Somewhere Between Stops Four and Eighteen on Bus Route 9216
Jareth looked so cute as he brooded on the bus. All angst-filled and explosive. Abney smiled and kissed his cheek. He didn't respond, but he didn't pull away either.
"Wait... can you cook bananas?" Abney asked suddenly, her head cocked, grabbing Jareth's sleeve.
He turned to her, his face expressionless. "You can cook anything, Abby."
She watched him stiffen at the sound of the loud rap music blaring from the over-sized 1990s era headphones of the man two seats behind them, and the screech of a small child struggling out of its pregnant mother's arms.
"Yeah, but - I mean - will it taste good? A hot banana?"
Abney looked around, hyper as she often was in a public place. Jareth hid his shyness beneath a cold visage, with silence. He reminded her of a vampire forced to travel abroad at high noon. Abney hid her terror of strangers beneath jokes and clothes that screamed confidence.
Today, aboard a bus, she looked like an escaping model from some retro clothing catalog: she wore a pair of neo-Victorian black lace up stiletto-heeled boots over artfully faded gray skinny jeans, with a black silk scarf wound through her belt loops and dangling absently from her waist. A tight crinkled pink silk jacket was fastened up to its high neck and Abney's black hair was wound into a tight braid down her back. She would stand out in any crowd even in the most casual outfit, but with her dark sunglasses and flawless posture, everyone around her stared, wondering if they were supposed to know who she was.
"Jare," she pouted, "You're not paying attention to me. I need attention or I get all mopey and start pining away."
He nearly smiled at that.
"I'm serious," she continued holding his hand between both of hers. "I've never had a hot banana. I don't think. And I want to know if they taste good. Like, I wouldn't want to boil a banana, but fried up with... I don't know... something? With home made whipped cream on the side, sprinkled with a little nutmeg?"
"We can try it later, if you like." he responded noncommittally.
"You don't eat whipped cream." Abney pointed out, crossing her arms in front of her and pretending to glare at him.
"I've been known to make exceptions," he replied quietly, a small smirk appearing at the side of his mouth.
Abney's eyes widened a little and then she smiled, inhaling slowly. She leaned across the space between them to kiss Jareth's ear and whispered, "Can we try it later?"
"If you like," Jareth said quietly, but this time there was the sound of a smile in his voice, and he wrapped an arm around her, tucking her up against him and kissing the top of her head.
"I like." she murmured.
"I hate people," he said, eying the back of the bus driver's head.
Abney ran a hand up his thigh. "You don't hate me."
"You're not people," he responded, pushing her sunglasses up so he could see her eyes.
"You caught me!" she gasped, "How long have you known I'm an alien from a planet called Orbital Mass 92468? I thought I'd done so well concealing it... Now my plans of global conquest are utterly ruined..."
Jareth tickled her side with the hand of the arm which was around her. She giggled. He said, "You can still conquer me."
She smiled devilishly. "Who says I haven't already?"
He kissed her again and she smiled happily.
"No, really," she said, "Alien."
"Are there probes involved?" he asked.
"If you like," she responded noncommittally, laughter in her eyes.
"Wait... can you cook bananas?" Abney asked suddenly, her head cocked, grabbing Jareth's sleeve.
He turned to her, his face expressionless. "You can cook anything, Abby."
She watched him stiffen at the sound of the loud rap music blaring from the over-sized 1990s era headphones of the man two seats behind them, and the screech of a small child struggling out of its pregnant mother's arms.
"Yeah, but - I mean - will it taste good? A hot banana?"
Abney looked around, hyper as she often was in a public place. Jareth hid his shyness beneath a cold visage, with silence. He reminded her of a vampire forced to travel abroad at high noon. Abney hid her terror of strangers beneath jokes and clothes that screamed confidence.
Today, aboard a bus, she looked like an escaping model from some retro clothing catalog: she wore a pair of neo-Victorian black lace up stiletto-heeled boots over artfully faded gray skinny jeans, with a black silk scarf wound through her belt loops and dangling absently from her waist. A tight crinkled pink silk jacket was fastened up to its high neck and Abney's black hair was wound into a tight braid down her back. She would stand out in any crowd even in the most casual outfit, but with her dark sunglasses and flawless posture, everyone around her stared, wondering if they were supposed to know who she was.
"Jare," she pouted, "You're not paying attention to me. I need attention or I get all mopey and start pining away."
He nearly smiled at that.
"I'm serious," she continued holding his hand between both of hers. "I've never had a hot banana. I don't think. And I want to know if they taste good. Like, I wouldn't want to boil a banana, but fried up with... I don't know... something? With home made whipped cream on the side, sprinkled with a little nutmeg?"
"We can try it later, if you like." he responded noncommittally.
"You don't eat whipped cream." Abney pointed out, crossing her arms in front of her and pretending to glare at him.
"I've been known to make exceptions," he replied quietly, a small smirk appearing at the side of his mouth.
Abney's eyes widened a little and then she smiled, inhaling slowly. She leaned across the space between them to kiss Jareth's ear and whispered, "Can we try it later?"
"If you like," Jareth said quietly, but this time there was the sound of a smile in his voice, and he wrapped an arm around her, tucking her up against him and kissing the top of her head.
"I like." she murmured.
"I hate people," he said, eying the back of the bus driver's head.
Abney ran a hand up his thigh. "You don't hate me."
"You're not people," he responded, pushing her sunglasses up so he could see her eyes.
"You caught me!" she gasped, "How long have you known I'm an alien from a planet called Orbital Mass 92468? I thought I'd done so well concealing it... Now my plans of global conquest are utterly ruined..."
Jareth tickled her side with the hand of the arm which was around her. She giggled. He said, "You can still conquer me."
She smiled devilishly. "Who says I haven't already?"
He kissed her again and she smiled happily.
"No, really," she said, "Alien."
"Are there probes involved?" he asked.
"If you like," she responded noncommittally, laughter in her eyes.