Disclaimer: Don't own it. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fic. That said, on with the crack!
In all actuality, neither one of them knew how they had landed in their current position. Though they had to agree that - whatever the current position might be - they were both reasonably satisfied with the outcome.
That was, until it was over.
"So... What now?" Lyle remained on the bed, elbows resting on his knees, which were dutifully hidden by his sister's oversized comforter. He liked the feel of the material against his skin, even if the floral print clashed horribly with his features. He reminded himself that he'd have to wash her sheets before she came home.
A few feet away, and currently preoccupied with his pants (the zipper of which seemed to be quite stubbornly jammed), Peter stood slightly hunched over, giving a small shrug.
"Well, nothing. We just go back to the way things were. My brother would probably kill me if he ever found out, and frankly I don't think your father would be too thrilled about it, either."
The older man turned to the door, hoping to make his exit smoothly and without causing too much drama. As he walked, he noticed a slight tugging at his ankle, and looking down recognized the Bennet's prized Pomeranian - Mr. Muggles, was it?
Not only was Peter surprised to discover that the telepathy he had leeched off of that Parkman fellow worked on animals as well as humans, what came to him as more of a shock was what he heard going through the small dog's head.
'Oh, no. I'm not done with the two of you, yet.'