[oom] Indy's Room

[justcallmefee]

Fiona stretches, arms reaching over her head, toes pointed, her spine arching with contentment.  Her skin still tingles and every muscle in her body is filled with the sweet ache of exertion.  The stretch ends, leaving her boneless and replete

Comments

[henry_jones_jr]

There have been conclusions to several notable adventures where Indy has looked less worn out than he does right now. Flirting with death in order to win a prized artifact is one thing, an afternoon in bed with Fiona Glenanne is quite another. Apparently.

A thin trail of smoke snakes up towards the ceiling fan. Hair plastered to his forehead, eyes almost closed, he tilts his head back and takes a first drag. It's long and savoring, and severely delays his response.

"I deserve it," is his eventual comeback. "You want one?"

When he turns his face down to her, there's a weary but very satisfied smile still in place. The cigarette is not to blame for that.

[justcallmefee]

She gives him a crooked grin and shakes her head. "Only when I'm drinking."

[henry_jones_jr]

"The state you were in last night," Indy chuckles, "there's gotta be some residual still kicking around."

He rests back onto the headboard again and takes another languorous pull.

"It isn't a cliché in my time, by the way."

[justcallmefee]

"Oh right. It's just what everyone did." Her fingers idly stroke over his skin.

Her brow furrows a bit. "[Where did you learn to speak Gaelic?]"