It's Sunday, which means Anna has a day off today.
This is good, because after
helping herself to some free flowers last night, she's... shall we say... disinclined to get up.
Incapable of it, one might say.
She's also running quite the fever, and it's rather lucky all things considered that people in comas are not, on the whole, given to
And, of course, him taking off her jeans is another kind of success, one to which she will happily accede--
--seeing as how she gets to go for his next.
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"I haven't decided if you've been good enough yet."
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Anna smirks.
"Let me know when you figure it out," she says, wrapping an arm snugly around his waist and applying the gentlest of nibbles to the corner of his jaw.
Yes, she knows his weak spots.
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"You're off to a pretty good start."
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She chuckles, nuzzling the side of his neck for a moment before returning to her explorations of his endlessly fascinating jawline.
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Anna hasn't heard one of Clark's delightful little happy-noises in some time, after all.
She misses them dearly.
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Clark obliges with a few more, although they're all genuinely made.
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Is Anna being enough of a good girl yet, Clark?
Inquiring minds want to know.
So do Anna's hands, sneaky little things that they are, going for the pants again like that. For shame.
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"Patience is a virtue. Didn't anyone ever teach you that?"
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She leans down to kiss him, smiling.
"I never paid much attention."
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On the other hand, Clark now has a woman straddling his lap wearing nothing but her underwear, dead set (no pun intended) on getting into his pants.
How long can he reasonably resist?
Especially when by now she knows every little trick for getting him to capitulate?
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Anna will just grin back, nibble his lip fondly, and then start working her way back to that famous spot on his jaw again. Perhaps she can get him to make a few more of those little noises she likes so much.
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