Hot n Cold Morning

[Circe]

Circe had no doubt of her actions and was glad that her new roomie agreed with her. Left ear and eye quirked at his comment about grapes. Say what you will about John, but to other Lost he probably had the best poker face ever.

The elf laughed at his approval, "That's why I don't do it. Makes ya stupid enough ta get bitch slapped by the Wyrd. I mean, shootin' em worked for Harrison Ford." She laughs harder, "sayin' that example convinces lots of said idiots ta see my way, funny enough."

Circe finished off her Poptart. Now she had to figure out what she'd ask for from him. "Ya know," she picked up a few grapes and rolled them between her fingers, "I could make some double entendre about yer hands and workin' me," she popped a grape into her mouth, "But nah. Chores. Workin' on my car maybe. Or just askin' nice like for the teaching. Like I said," another grape, "I got no prob teaching. Actual boomsticks I need coin for. Buuuut," last grape, "Ya can wait on the car option. Can't exactly do much without a garage," there was a slight flush and shifty look as she said that. It was an embarrassing moment of hubris that cost her a lot of money.

[Circe]

Circe was fully aware of what affect her figure had on mortals. Though her favorite rabbit Rogue had probably built up immunity to her antics, she did understand it worked well on the Lost too. But the last two guy lings she'd tried it on had both been uninterested. Circe was not in the mood to go all out as it hadn't seemed to be working earlier.

As for sharing the chores, that seemed like common sense for roomies. "Whelp, chores is basic stuff," more grapes were consumed, "cleanin', fixing shit that's broke," she giggled, "can't no say yard work cause proper lawn." She found the poor status of the outside greens amusing.

"I ain't askin' ya ta help with my work. But I guess I could ask ya to do my laundry as another option," if she'd had more time to think she'd probably have teased him about that chore, "But I am open to negotiation. What do ya wanna offer as barter for me to, hmmm," there were a variety of ways to phrase it. She sipped coffee happily. Circe decided to be gentler thanks to the coffee. Instead of teasing the elf gave the faceless man a happy smile, "lets call giving ya tutelage." No double entendre. For now.

[Circe]

"Good John," Circe had more coffee, "I tinker too, but that I already told you," she was amused. "It'd certainly feel way better for me having yer hands working on," a happy hum as she sipped her coffee, "my doodads then lettin' some normie come along and maybe stumble on my private junk."


She blinked as a thought occurred to her, "Oh, and I got a tool table setup. I'll show it ta ya later if ya need ta use it. Or if ya buy stuff and wanna tinker." No point in having John do a poor job of fixing her house when she could loan him the tools to do it.


His other offer was intriguing. Red eyes became curious as she placed left elbow on the table, palm up in the air so her chin could rest on it. "Hmmm," it would be good to have help. "Interesting. I do find gates a great way to ditch shit before the cops find it," she looked off to the side with a scowl, "I can usually retrieve it later but ya know," shoulders shrugged, "the paths in the Park are crazy and some of the hobs are annoying. Still easier ta bribe then cops."


His Kith was familiar to Circe. Masters of disguise or something like that. "It could work. Low profile. Ya'd be good for hand offs. I don't, uh," she got this confused look on her face, "mostly I don't handle big junk. But ya'd hafta meet with some of my associates and, well," the elf looked thoughtful. Leon and some of the others would want to know whom she was doing business with.


Then her face brigthened up with a radiant smile, like a kid on Christmas morning. She had an idea.


"Ah! I got a question for ya John," Circe put on the charm, "How do ya feel about wearing suits?"

[Circe]

Circe giggled at the part of lubricant, "Works good on jammed doors. Or people needin' to squeeze through," though she was amused not only by the innuendo but also a interesting incident back in San Francisco.

Circe laughed hard at the suggestion of junk in her trunk. The Fairest actually banged her fist against the table several times while laughing. Both for the innuendo but also the mental image of trying that with the big junk. "Yes, well this kinda junk I'd rather have in my car's trunk. Lead poisoning is dangerous." She got more serious, "And define big junk as things being rifle sized," and she laughed again, "which wouldn't fit in either of my trunks."

Her laughter stopped as she froze. Then hung her head, "Ha ha, I have such a tiny adorable car." Then her head was back up with a smile. She was quite confident that flirting with John would not have the same result as her last two attempts. "Good ta hear John. I don't think my suits will fit yer figure. Be too baggy up top for ya. And," she then winked at him, "ya do know that saying about a sharp dressed man, right?"

[Circe]

"It does help," she was laughing as she thought back to her own lubricant story. And decided to share, "Sometimes ya need more. Like rope, a foam noodle, and a couple of tamping sticks ta do the job," she was laughing really hard now, "Broke the first stick!"


"Yes we are John," manic smile indeed, "And I really think a suit would suit ya." Circe froze and then face palmed, "Fanculo that was a weak pun. I may need more coffee." Circe rose to get another cup. As she passed John she inquired, "Ya want more?"