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[originallutece]

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[originallutece]

The rules are whatever I make them. You can ask anyone.

[. . .]

Except Bigby.

[enarms]

[ John lets out a laugh at that one. okay then, Ros. ]

Somebody who doesn't agree?

[originallutece]

Someone who forcibly ignores me. And then gloats about it afterwards, like an absolute bastard, just cos he's strong and tall and all that.

[Not that she minds. Not that she really dislikes Bigby and his rule-breaking, if in no small part because it ends up being pleasurable for the two of them. But thank god, she's not actually saying that just yet.]

[enarms]

Rosalind Lutece, suffering strong, tall, and all that fools? I can scarcely believe it.

[ poke. that. bear. ]

1/2

[originallutece]

[There is an indignant pause. Finally:]

Shut up.

2/3

[originallutece]

He's interesting. And I know enough about myself to know I have a type. He just happens to fit within that type, insufferable personality aside. And he's-- you know-- appealing in that sort of rough way, and there's something appealing about that kind of roughness--

[originallutece]

None of which is your business!

[ros nobody is making you talk about it]

[enarms]

[ literally nobody is making you talk about it, but wow. John stands, leaning against a set of shelves, and takes it all in. who knew the slightest little prod would spill this many beans.

John isn't, however, above making the most of the situation by asking questions. this is the lesser of many evils, really. ]

You together then?

[originallutece]

[Good thing you don't remember this kind of shit when you're high as a kite, this'll be a fun topic for him to bring up later.]

God, no. No, we just-- you know-- fuck.

Frequently.

[A pause. She may be contemplating this for a few seconds, but then:]

I've already got my beloved.

[But she doesn't want to think about Robert, actually, and so:]

No relationships . . . but sex is fine. Sex is fine.

1/?

[enarms]

[ oh. oh, my God. okay.

okay.

alright.

okay. ]

[enarms]

[ okay. ]

[enarms]

[ alright. ]

[enarms]

[ oooookkkkkk ay. ]

and we're done

[enarms]

[ thank heavens for drugs and please God let Rosalind not remember this conversation later. ]

Okay.

[ what can I change the topic to, I have heard too much. ]

Good. Fine.

[ nothing, apparently. okay. ]

[originallutece]

It is good, thanks. Are you embarrassed? It's just sex, John, for god's sake. Or did you think I was somehow incapable of it?

[enarms]

No— I'm not... questioning your capabilities. I'm just - surprised.

[ surprised. surprise, Rosalind, it doesn't take that much after all. ]

[originallutece]

My god, I might kill you if I acted like Sherlock and-- what was it, showed up in only a sheet? Good grief. What a pity.

[A few seconds pass, and then, belatedly:]

Why are you surprised?

[enarms]

[ half-laughing, half indignant, ]

I'd be fine, I'm just—

[ but Rosalind's moving on, and - ]

Just wasn't expecting... all the details, I suppose.

[ and if he's honest, the idea of beloved and sex being two separate entities sits strangely. one without the other, fine, but sex elsewhere when you're involved? that's surprising. ]

[originallutece]

[She makes a soft noise, a hmm of quiet disagreement.]

I did not. I didn't even tell you what we did at the gala. That would be details, and hideous ones at that.

[Someday she's going to remember this conversation and want to die.]

All I said was that I fuck a man-- or men, sometimes, or not men at all-- and I love another, that's barely anything at all. Honestly, John, learn to tell when you're being told something scandalous.

[enarms]

[ it keeps happening. it keeps! happening. but that's okay. the information goes filed away and shut down, none of his business really but known now, and John just - ]

Mmm.

[ okay. okay, he'll learn. but for now, please, let's change the subject. he doesn't want the retribution he's due from this. ]

I'll keep that in mind for next time. Are you tired yet?

[originallutece]

[Fortunately (or unfortunately, maybe, depending on who you're asking) Rosalind is fairly easily redirected. Are you tired yet, and her thoughts go from Robert and Bigby to indignance and exhaustion. And something else, something darker, but she isn't going to think about that. That's half the reason she's drugged up right now, because she doesn't want to think about that.]

No.

[Perhaps a bit, and she yawns as she says it.]

I want you to visit me soon.

[enarms]

[ that's a yes, and John's soft smirk does its best to stay on his face and out of his voice. ]

Okay. Soon.

[ and he will, he thinks. as soon as it's safe to leave here, as soon as it doesn't matter whether or not he comes back, he will. ]

But only if you rest. If I get there and you're cranky, I'm going home.

[originallutece]

I'm in my thirties, John, I'm not a ten year old. I don't get cranky.

[enarms]

No? I do.

Get some sleep, Rosalind. I'll come by soon.

[originallutece]

[She absolutely has a retort to that, but it's more a mumble than proper words. Something defiant, anyway, something that would be absolutely devastating, but John will just have to imagine it, because then the line goes dead.

She's out for hours, and it's twilight once she rouses again. Vaguely she has a thought that she must have hung up on John, and she'll apologize later, but honestly, the whole conversation is a blur. She remembers she was a little glib, laughing freely, but oh, well. There are worse things that could have happened.]