MCA -2, AKA The New Reno-and-Rikku-Land, Monday Morning

[the_merriest]

Rikku had totally thought it was like gonna take her a few more days to wrap things up. Because Gippal had been fighting with Eigaar and the airship had been making all kinds of clunky noises and Pops was being stubborn and, like, all the Al Bhed had chosen the exact same moment to go crazy, and it was right when Reno needed to be at the Newbie

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[raspberryturk]

"Nope," came a lazy sort of drawl from the sofa. "Second you leave that door unguarded, I'm gonna make a freakin' beeline, yoto."

So what if she'd been talking to the weasel? Reno was right there, and like hell he was going to peacefully sleep through the apartment being broken into.

"Hey, babe. You want a hand with the heavy shit, or should I grab Stupid, there?"

[the_merriest]

Rikku leaned over the edge of the couch so she could kiss just the tip of Reno's nose. "I'll manage," she laughed. "Though I think you could build an airship out of all the junk I brought."

'Junk' meaning broken machina, scrounged up from the bottom of the ocean. Old technology, far more advanced than anything Spirans knew how to use, rusting and incapacitated, but so full of promise.

"I was gonna try not to wake you," she added. "Guess chirping at the weasel kinda screws that up. Hey, why are you on the couch, anyway?"

Did they not have a bed yet? She could sleep on the floor. She'd slept on worse, really.

[raspberryturk]

"Weaselface fell asleep on my chest," Reno chuckled. "And once that happened, there was no hope, you know? It's bad luck to move a sleeping weasel, yo."

No. No, it probably wasn't. Hell, most of the time, Mako just slept right through being moved around.

"How was the trip?"

With all of the machina, and all.

[the_merriest]

"Orrrrrrrr maybe you just zonked out with him," Rikku teased. "Once Mako's out, how can you resist? He starts snoring and bam."

That was Petey's best quality. On nights when she was convinced she'd never get to sleep, he'd hop up, stretch up next to her, and nap like he got paid to do it. Usually did the trick.

She balanced herself on the arm of the sofa. "Not so bad," she said. "Somehow straight-shots to Fandom always seem to work better than the layover hell we usually go through. Although one customs lady at Portalocity didn't want to let me bring all of the baggage, and I had to get in her face about it. I mean the ticket doesn't say there's a limit to bags. Not anywhere that I checked. If I can carry 'em, they're my problem, right??"

There were ... rather a lot of bags in the hallway. Yes, they were unguarded. But seriously. Who'd steal a bunch of broken machina, anyway?