Long promised [RP for Cait and Robin]

[ifwebefriends]

The quiet of the apartment that Cait and Abby share is broken by the ringing of Cait's mobile phone. On his end of the line, Robin grimaces as the phone rings, and rings again, the sound coming through faint to him even with the volume turned up as loud as possible. The phone has a bit of competing to do with the other sounds around him, of course

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[a_chaitlin]

Cait, in turn, cannot hide the light hint of pink that creeps over her non-toweled skin in response to -- not Robin staring, no. Surely she isn't blushing under a man's eyes at her age, no matter how amazingly blue those eyes might be. It must be the wind, blowing more sharply the higher they go.

"Why thank you ever so, dear heart. You're looking rather smashing yourself." When outflanked, go on the offensive ... is that one of Sun Tzu's or Musashi's? Never mind. She doubts there exists an aphorism on strategy that Robin can't monkey-wrench, anyway.

A sudden thought triggers an equally sudden fit of giggles. In response to Robin's inquiring look, Cait at last gets out, "Sh-shame about the glamours in some ways. I mean, here we have Kate Stanton, promising novelist, swept off her balcony and into a hot-air balloon wearing nothing but a towel! And by no less than Robbie Fellowes, music mogul of considerable reputation!"

She stifles a fresh round of chuckles against her folded fingers. "The entire publicity department of my publishing house would faint with glee over the press. Or just faint."

[ifwebefriends]

Robin laughs at the image her words conjure, being who and what he is and loving spectacle for its own sake. "It would be the talk of, well, of literary circles at any rate. I'm afraid nobody in popular entertainment would so much as blink. You only have to compete with the social lives of folk like, oh, Nicholas Sparks-- I've got to try and make waves against the likes of Angelina Jolie and my very dear Miss Spears." The Puck is smiling as if something privately amuses him, but then, he is often smiling like that.

Thoughtfully, Robin adds, "If it publicity you'd like, I'm sure I can arrange something suitably dramatic that won't tax Bernard's abilities to keep me from getting arrested. You have but to say the word, my lovely."

He leans forward, arms still crossed, concern-or-at-least-the-semblance-of-it flickering across his feature. "Are you cold? I am as you know a source of considerable hot air, even if I am not personally propelling our balloon at the moment."

[a_chaitlin]

Something suitably dramatic. Imagining what that phrase could mean in Robin-terms entrances and appalls Cait by turns. When she applies those imaginings to her career ... oh. My. "I'll keep that in mind, pet. For right now I'm ready to just enjoy the day."

And she is. She's spent weeks watching so many who are dear to her hurt, feeling powerless to do much to help them. Surely no one would begrudge her a little time to herself, time to savor a fun new experience, a new perspective on the sights and sounds of the city she lives in, and the warm company of an old friend.

Robin's question catches her in the middle of delightedly watching Central Park draw nearer. "Well, I didn't exactly have a chance to grab a jacket, m'dear," she says absently. Her eyes widen as she hears her own words, and she hastily tacks on, "But I'm sure I'll be fine."

Of course just then the wind chooses to gust, plucking at the hem of her towel and making her shiver and wrap her arms around herself before she can curb the impulse.

[ifwebefriends]

Robin notes the shiver, and gives Cait a deeply reproachful look.

"You mustn't lie to me, dearheart," he says somberly. "For one, you're not very good at it. Bad trait in a writer, you know. Tsk."

With that, he promptly slings an arm around her shoulder and tugs her gently closer. "You're just going to have to huddle with me for warmth, seeing as I neglected to bring a jacket," he says with sweet sincerity, accompanying with a flutter of his lashes down at Cait.

[a_chaitlin]

"Oh I have to, have I?" Cait mutters, both chagrined at being caught out (again) and wondering if perhaps a certain sylph of the West Wind contributed to that timely blast of air. Zee being Zee, however, she's more likely to read Robin the riot act for consorting with a "stinky púca" than assist him in any seduction attempts.

Not that this qualifies as a seduction attempt just yet ... does it? She looks up at the Puck through her long, dark lashes. The hint of wickedness gleaming through the azure of his eyes can't really be used as a guide, ever-present as it is. Be serious, girl. When is the man not on the make, really?

He is warm, though.

Cait sighs, recognizing her body's minor mutiny as she reflexively snuggles a little closer under Robin's arm. Her arms unfold from her chest, and if one of them takes the opportunity to inch its way around her abductor's lean waist, she's not about to argue. Enjoying the day, right?

She certainly can't deny that cuddling with Robin Goodfellow in the gondola of a hot-air balloon is very enjoyable. Her púca-eyes sparkle as she looks up at him again. "Thank you, pet," she murmurs, sugar and mischief dripping from her own tone. "You're always so considerate."