"Again?" Tossing her bag and jacket onto the table, she puts her hands on her hips and looks at him on the couch. "You're kidding me, right?"
Completely engrossed in the gunfire battle playing out on the television screen, he waves a welcoming hand in her direction without giving her the faintest hint of a glance. "Do you need assistance with anything, Swan?"
"Haven't you seen this episode?" God, she sounds like the mother of a teenaged boy that she is, but come on. Her pirate lover is still on the couch where she left him over two hours ago, watching a ten year old sci-fi show with the kind of enthusiasm he usually reserves for his nightly ritual of removing her clothes. It's hard not to feel a little put out.
"I only saw the denouement towards the end last time, love." His gaze is still fixed on the television, but at least he's answering her. "I missed the setting up of the double-cross, but it all makes perfect sense to me now."
She laughs. She can't help it, because he's just so ridiculous and yet so perfect. "Maybe we should get you a job as a television critic," she murmurs as she moves towards the couch. "You'd be the perfect mix of enthusiasm and sarcasm."
He mumbles something that sounds like whatever you wish, love, then looks up at her with mild outrage as she presses the off button on the television remote. "Bad form, Swan."
"All thirteen episodes of that show are available on DVD," she tells him as she tosses the remote onto the far end of the couch and stands between his knees. "I can order it for you online right now and you'll have it in your hot little hand in two days, and then you can watch them over and over again as much as you like."
He stares up at her for a long moment, then a slow smile curves his lips. He runs his hand and hook up the back of her thighs, tugging her down into his lap. "And what do you suggest I do with my hot little hand until then, Swan?"
They both know it's a rhetorical question, because she's already unbuttoning his shirt and his hand is already caressing her breast, but she answers it anyway, and if her voice is already shaking from the feel of his body stirring to life beneath hers, well, screw it. "I'm sure you'll think of something."
He does.