The Luckiest Girl In The World

"Keep it up and I'll slipping olives into things," Kathy threatened, her hands on her hips and tapping her foot. "And won't share dessert with you."

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"No, you wouldn't," Dante said.

He pulled up a chair and sank down on it, sprawling casually. "'Cause that would be murder."

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"The olives, or the not feeding us dessert?" Anders asked. "I'm not sure which would be worse."

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Kathy opened the door to the fridge again to show off the mousse cake--look, she was kinda proud of that, it was pretty and looked delicious.

"I'm guessing dessert," she told them. "Strawberries and chocolate. And all for me and none for you if you two aren't nicer to me."

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"You're the one who's being evil as fuck," Dante said, through a mouthful of bun. "Threatening us with olives and no dessert."

He had a better angle on her legs from here. Nice.

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"She always was trouble," Anders chimed in, shaking his head in mock dismay. "I'm not sure what we'll have to do with her if she keeps making threats like that. What kind of monster would deny two handsome men a strawberry-chocolate cake?"

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"The kind who knows both of you very well," Kathy declared, closing the fridge door and whirling back towards the table. Her skirt flared a bit as she did and something caught the reflected light from the fridge for a second before it went out. "You two done making your pizzas? They need a little time to cook and I want them to be done before you finish locusting your way through my buns."

She tried to sound severe, but the twinkle in her eyes and the deep dimples in her cheeks were conspiring against the act.

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"I'm good," Dante said, polishing off the last chunk of bun he had on him. "I mean, my feelings are hurt, but my pizza's good."

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Anders sprinkled a little more cheese on his pizza -- no such thing as 'too much' -- and gestured to Kathy. "All yours," he said. "I'll go back to eating your buns while it bakes."

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Kathy put Dante's pizza into the oven while Anders finished adorning his, and set the timer for ten minutes.

"They take about ten minutes to cook," she said, adding the last few toppings to hers, too, "so it'll be about half an hour before mine's done. Should we, uhh, watch something while we wait?"

She was a little nervous about suggesting anything more risque than that. There was too much on the line to accidentally push too hard or too fast.

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"What'd you have in mind?" Dante asked, stretching his feet out until they wound up on the chair on the other side.

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"I'm fine with watching something," Anders added. "Or just talking. I'm not bored of either of you yet."

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"I'm not bored of either of you, either," Kathy said with a smile. She dragged another chair over towards Dante and waved Anders over to take it. "But then, I wasn't trapped in a car and talking through three thousand miles of farm country, either."

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"Aw, the farm country wasn't so bad," Dante said, snickering. "Anders composed a song."

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"Thirty-seven verses," Anders deadpanned. "Would you like to hear it?"

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"Oh look I have that really important thing I have to do right now," Kathy said, checking her bare wrist. "Maybe another time?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Unless it was an ode to my perfection? In which case, thirty-seven verses is an acceptable start."

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"Hey, it wasn't bad," Dante said, tilting his head and finding - to his disappointment - that the buns were gone. "And by the time I got sick of it, it was usually time to screw our brains out."

... he was an absolute impossible pain when he didn't know what he wanted.

When he wasn't quite as fussed anymore, the elephants in the room could go get bent.

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"And having a lot of sex made him too happy to complain about the singing, and me too happy to complain about stopping at every pizza place we passed," Anders added. (If Dante was shameless, he would be too.) "Ten out of ten, would recommend."

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"Clearly, I need to start going on more roadtrips," Kathy said with a laugh, leaning against the table. "My last two weeks were nothing like that. However, if you need a recap of the main plotlines of multiple TV shows or the current rankings for various cooking shows, I'm your girl."

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"How about we catch you up on ours and you can catch us up on yours?"

Yeah, Dante knew he was walking on dangerous ground when he wasn't completely sure he could do this yet.

But he couldn't help himself. He had a fairly limited amount of different speed sections.

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"Or we could go to the couch and see whether we remember how to all mess around together," Anders suggested, since some part of him always wanted to go right up to the elephant in the room and say hi.

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Kathy kind of jumped at that...which pressed her against the table harder than she'd intended and she squealed. Stupid, decorative--ahem, anyway.

"I mean, I wouldn't complain?" she offered, easing away from the table a little so as to not do that again.

...She could figure out the mechanics of sitting when she got there.

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Dante let out a soft laugh, sliding out of his seat. "You okay?" he asked, taking a few steps closer.

Very deliberate steps.

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"What's under your skirt?" Anders asked, looking about as concerned as he could look while he was also watching Dante move that way.

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