FLIGHTSUIT II – ROLEPLAY

It was late when Angela got home, thanks to the dual curses of living outside of town and stores stocked solely by scavengers. It had taken far longer than a girl would think to scrounge up two measly cups of flour and three eggs. But they were on Dingo's list, so she'd stayed at it until she found them. She couldn't imagine what he needed them for – pretty much the only thing he made with eggs and flour was the cake he'd made for her birthday the last two years, but they'd celebrated two days ago so it couldn't be that. Maybe he had a craving for pancakes again?

The parts they'd needed for the Jeep and ATV had been easier to find, thankfully. Still, she'd had to remind herself several times that she'd volunteered to do the shopping while Dingo stayed behind to give the house a thorough cleaning.

"Dingo?" she called quietly. There was no answer, but she'd seen a light over in the garage, so he was probably there.

She headed into the kitchen and smiled when she saw the plate he'd left out for her. She shelved their meager groceries and scarfed down her meal in only a few minutes – since there was no one watching and she hadn't eaten in hours. Dingo had taken care of his dishes and whatever he'd used to cook so she washed her plate and fork and put them away before heading into the bedroom to change into her pajamas.

It was funny the things that she'd had to get used to living in the physical world. She'd never had to sleep on DEVA, so she'd never owned pajamas before. Not that what she wore to bed now could strictly be classified as pajamas, considering it was actually just one of Dingo's old shirt. It was ridiculously large on her small frame, but the way Dingo's eyes darkened every time he saw her in it made her warm inside.

Dingo had certainly had a busy day, she realized as she made her way to the bedroom. The trailer and its various additions were spotless. There were a few new odds and ends decorating the walls too, so he must have finally straightened the junk they'd stored in her old room. She was pretty sure that piece beside their doorframe was part of her old Arhan.

And speaking of things that used to be hers . . . was that her DEVA issue flightsuit laid out on the bed? She wandered over to finger the slick material. She hadn't seen this since her last birthday when she'd tried to use it to seduce Dingo. It'd worked, sort of. Or, she'd gotten what she wanted, at least, but the flightsuit hadn't really been necessary. Turned out Dingo liked her in anything she wore.

Which begged the question: what was it doing in their bedroom?

A throat cleared softly behind her and she whirled to find Dingo leaning casually on the doorframe. She arched a brow in question. He smiled and loped forward.

"So, I know we're a little past round two, but I was cleaning out your old room and I found this and I thought . . . maybe you'd put it on for me?" He lifted his brows hopefully.

Angela looked from him to her flight suit and shrugged. "Sure. Why not?" Huh, guess he had liked the flightsuit after all.

Dingo just grinned.

She shook her head and turned to pull her shirt over her head, but then paused with her hands on the hem to look back over her shoulder at him. "Are you staying for this part?" she asked.

Now it was his turn to wing one brow upward inquisitively. "Should I not?"

She shrugged again. "I don't mind. But it might be more fun if you don't." A world of possibilities ran through her mind in that instant. They'd never really bothered with costumes or props or games, but it could be kind of fun. Guys were into that kind of thing, right?

"Yeah?" he asked, tone taking on a hint of pleased curiosity.

"It might be," she repeated. And then she winked.

Dingo vacated the doorway in favor of the living room. "I'll be on the couch when you're ready," he called back to her.

She took her time getting changed, both to build the anticipation and because she wasn't sure how far, exactly, he was planning to take this. In the end she decided it was probably best just to ask him straight out.

"So, is this just costume fetish, or were you thinking of something more involved?" she asked, sashaying toward him with swaying hips before straddling him. He swallowed as her breasts bounced in front of his face.

"Uh, involved?" he blinked at her like she'd spoken in a foreign language and then swallowed hard. "You mean, like, Security Officer Balzac and fugitive Kajiwara? That kind of involved?"

She flipped her hair back over her shoulders. "If you want."

His eyes traced down her form. "I, uh, sure. Whatever. I hadn't really thought that far ahead."

That was so like Dingo. He'd probably stuck the thing out on a whim.

"Okay, then." She reached behind her, twisting her hair and securing it to the back of her head.

"What are you doing?" he asked, eyes following her movements.

"You can't expect me to detain the prisoner with my hair hanging around everywhere. That would be reckless." She leaned in close to breath against the warm skin of his neck. "Too much leverage."

"Oh, right."

She paused, pulling back to study him. He wasn't as gung ho about this as she had expected. Maybe he really hadn't had any ulterior motives in pulling out the suit. She braced one hand lightly against his chest, drawing his attention up to her face. "Dingo, if you're not into this, we don't have to."

He shook his head. "No. It's not that. It's just – are you bored?"

She blinked at him. "What?"

"Bored. With us. Or, well, our sex life. Are you bored?"

"Are you?"

"No, of course not," he denied firmly. "Why would you ask?"

She tugged at the white spandex hugging her torso. "You're the one who pulled out the flight suit."

He looked back toward the kitchen table and then met her eyes again. "Well, yeah. Because, I don't know, I was trying to be . . . nostalgic. Romantic? Maybe. Because you were wearing it the day that . . ." he trailed off and looked away. And suddenly she got it.

"Oh, oh. Dingo, I'm sorry." She tried to pull back, to get off his lap, but his hands suddenly gripped her hips tightly, holding her in place.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asked.

Heat rose in her face. "I completely forgot. And you were trying to be sweet and romantic and I turned it into some raunchy game."

"Angela— hold still will you," he commanded as she squirmed. "I'm not upset. And it's not raunchy. There's nothing wrong with a little role-play. I just didn't want you to think that's what this was about. But if you want to it's fine. I'm fine."

She stared down at his chest.

"Angela?" he asked, hesitant now.

"Let go," she said softly.

Immediately he released her. She slid off his lap and held out her hand. He took it, eyeing her with a touch of trepidation. She led him toward the bedroom.

"Angela? What are we doing?"

She released her hair from its prison. "Celebrating our anniversary. In bed. Without the script."

"Are you sure? I meant what I said. I'm okay with a little—"

She cut him off with a kiss. When she pulled back she held his face close to hers with a hand at the base of his skull. "You are many things, Zarik Kajiwara, but you are never boring," she promised and kissed him again. This time when it ended she released him fully, pushing at his chest a little to get him to relinquish his hold on her waist. His eyes followed her, confused, and she winked at him as she sank down onto the bed. "So, why don't you help me out of this flight suit?" she invited. "It's a little too tight for my liking."

Catching on, he grinned as he stalked toward her. His head tilted to one side to study her as he stopped beside the bed. "Really? I think it's just tight enough."

She made a show of rolling her eyes. "Men," she scoffed.

His grin widened. "Aren't we just the worst?"

"Mm hmm," she hummed an agreement, reaching her arm up to beckon him down. He came willingly. "I kind of like it," she whispered against his lips.

He kissed her, wide hands sliding to support her back with strong, splayed fingers. Artist's hands, she'd often thought, and he certainly played her like a master instrumentalist. When she said he was never boring, it was the honest truth. She couldn't get enough of him – in their bed, in her life. His tongue stroked hers, firm and knowing, making her ache in all the right places and she gasped into his mouth. Yeah, definitely not boring. Still, now that the role play idea was stuck in her head . . .well, he had said he wouldn't mind. . .

When they came up for air she gasped, "Maybe role play for round two?"

He grinned down at her. "I'm holding you to that this time."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXA/N: Did you think I'd disappeared? Next couple are going to be Dingo POV, and then I think some split Dingo/Angela POV. Also, no judgement or opinion on roleplay in real life. I'm in my thirties and have only been kissed once in my life, so it's not something I spend much time thinking about. Thanks for -as