Sorry it's been so long. I had a spot of writer's block. Please, please review.
Susan was trying to figure out exactly how being Death's granddaughter had led to her relationship with Teatime. Or rather how being Death's granddaughter had warped her enough to make embarking on a relationship with a crazed and unstable assassin seem like an attractive idea. She was fairly certain that the two conditions had to be mutual, as she seemed to be the only person suffering from both.
I mean no one normal would think that a man for whom physics is just a word would be a decent prospect. No one normal would find that poker-sparring makes for an interesting and exciting love life. No one normal would consider a man they MURDERED as a suitor. No one normal would consider anyone who tried to inhume them, either.
'You're thinking again, aren't you Susan?' The tone was accusatory.
'What else do you suggest I do?'
Teatime shrugged. 'Think of something else. That doesn't make you frown so. And, maybe, makes me smile. You know I've never met anyone who didn't prefer me smiling.' He was staring at her.
'Oh, but I'm thinking of you, TEAtime.'
'Really?' His knife was suddenly tracing interesting patterns on her neck, just too gently to draw blood. 'Then I suggest you get my name right. I'm sure I don't know what could be causing this peculiar mental block you seem to have. Teh-Ah Tim-eh, Susan. It's not difficult. What kind of woman can't even get her lover's name right.'
Susan had to stop her jaw from dropping. 'What did you just say?'
'You heard, and I do so hate repeating myself.'
'We are not lovers.'
'What else would you call two unrelated people who live together and enjoy frequent poker based activity?'
'Residential enemies.'
Teatime looked thoughtful. 'Well, maybe we're that too. Anyway being residential enemies keeps our relationship exciting and if it weren't diverting I don't know what might happen.'
Susan just sighed.
'Oh. You're looking exasperated. Should I fetch the fireside equipment?' Teatime grinned.