"Thank you," Jupiter said.
She wove her hand into Caine's, enjoying the residual warmth from the towels they'd been given. Everything back at the restaurant had been neat and clean and fancy, a far cry from the Bolotnikov table where you were just as likely to end up with food in your hair as in your mouth. She swung their arms, humming as she remembered Vladie upending a whole bowl of peas over Nino's head. That hadn't ended well.
"Dollar for your thoughts?" Caine murmured.
"Penny."
"… A dollar is worth more."
Jupiter laughed. She skipped ahead, catching Caine's other hand and turning so that they were connected by their outstretched arms. She wobbled slightly—moving backwards in heels was no joke—but she had a pretty awesome splice helping to balance her.
"Even a dollar isn't worth much compared to that meal," she teased. "Where exactly did you get the money for that anyway? You could have at least let me see the check!"
Caine shrugged. The light blush dusting his cheeks was noticeable even under the stars.
"Stinger," he said.
"And where did Stinger get that kind of cash?"
"…."
"Never mind." Jupiter held up a hand. "The less I know the better, huh? You realize that I'm paying him back though, right? What's the point of being a super rich space queen if you can't indulge in tiny, over-priced dishes every once in a while … huh."
"Your Majesty? What's wrong? " Caine stopped their momentum, immediately cradling her cheek as a guilty expression crossed Jupiter's face. She glanced up at him sheepishly.
"Uh… that offer still on the table?"
"Offer?"
Laughing nervously, Jupiter pulled a couple bills from her clutch. "Not that the meal wasn't great—because it was, foie gras rocks—but while mouthwatering, yeah, it was also… sorta… small. Growing space queen here. Well, growing out anyways. How awful would I be if I asked for a midnight snack?"
"Snack?"
Now that he'd confirmed that she was neither injured nor upset, Caine seemed incapable of anything other than staring at Jupiter, repeating her own words back to her. (Parrot genes in the mix somewhere? Quite possibly). He got like this sometimes, particularly after dates. Or when Jupiter came home from work. Or woke up in the morning. Or basically existed. The point was her makeup and cocktail dress did little to help his situation, while the soft lighting of the street lamps gave their night an ethereal, inevitable feel. Jupiter took the hand still cradling her cheek and gently brought it to her lips.
"What's even better than buying thoughts," she whispered. "Is milkshakes. Ever had a milkshake, Caine? Thick. Syrupy. An iced glass and one straw between us. How'd you like to share that with me? Stay out all night… watch the sun rise… you might have to find a way to keep me warm in this chill though…"
During this Jupiter had sauntered forward, edging closer as Caine's eyes blew wider. She pressed herself between his legs, swung her arms up around his neck, shifted her hips just an inch to the left, and—
—froze at the massive rumble she felt along Caine's stomach.
"Your Majesty." He shut his eyes in shame.
"Oh shit," Jupiter laughed and buried her face in the crook of his neck. "Right. Of course. Growing space queen. Growing ex-legion too. We didn't think this through, did we?" She shook there a moment until she felt him relaxing beneath her touch. Caine hadn't quite gotten the handle of smiling with his mouth yet, but Jupiter thought she felt a smile in the way his fingers traversed her hair.
"A midnight snack sounds… good," he admitted.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Caine?"
"Mm?"
"Romance be damned. We're getting two milkshakes."