Room 408, Saturday Morning

[apocalipped]

The dance? Had been nice. Nice in that sort of, 'I am here, I am not being particularly social, but I have a lovely date and I'm going to enjoy this, damn it,' kind of way that Jono was so good at. But that much social interaction was tiring, to say the least, and so he was absolutely planning on spending his Saturday in bed. And it would be great, and to hell with anything in the world that thought that he was going to be getting up, at least until late afternoon.

It was possible that Jonothon was slightly delusional, yes.

[For wee ones, roomies, whatever!]

Comments

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

"Fine, fine," George grumbled, getting out of bed. "You know, you --"

Wait. Could she do the thinky thing? Did it go the other way if you tried really, really hard, or did that only work if you were telepathic or telekinetic or telewhichever the term was?

She closed her eyes and focused and thought really, really hard in Jono's direction.

//HEY. JONO? ARE YOU GETTING THIS? AM I DOING IT RIGHT? OR IS SHE GOING TO GET THIS, TOO?//

It was probably stupid. The one consolation was that if neither of them got it, then neither of them would know she was even trying it, and she'd feel less like a complete moron.

[furnaceface]

//Gordon Bennet!//

That would be a yes, George. Yes, Jono could hear your thoughts if you directed them his way. Especially if you went and screamed them at him at about ten thousand psionic decibels.

//Yes! I bloody well heard that! And possibly every other telepath on th'bloody island, at that rate!//

So, really, mileage might vary. Was Vedder a telepath, too?

[lepetitemortals.livejournal.com]

"Ow," Vedder announced, glaring at one, than the other, of them. "Who did that, and what did you do?"

Something like an icepick had slammed into her head, and then disappeared again. Shortest migraine ever. Knowing her parents, one of them was responsible.

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

"I didn't know!" George said. "I'm not all psychic! You can't just get talky if I can't talk back!"

Therefore, this totally wasn't her fault.

"Who the fuck is Gordon Bennet, anyway!?"

They were wonderful parents. No wonder Vedder was so well-adjusted.

[furnaceface]

//Nobody,// Jono groused, rubbing at the side of his head as if that was actually going to do him any good. //It's one of many fun and exciting words and phrases that can be put to use instead of th'word fook.//

Shut up. He's so fake Marvel cockney it hurts. He can say fook if he wants to.

[lepetitemortals.livejournal.com]

"Sometimes I think you're extra-British on purpose," Vedder said. "Just so people will be sodding impressed. Why can't I have grown up in England? The accents are better."

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

"Because I'm assigned to the Seattle division of External Influences," George said, "and England has crappy food."

Sorry, Jono. She couldn't insult the weather. She lived in Seattle. It seemed the first thing she could grab.

She was going to try focusing very carefully again, and enunciating. The thinking equivalent of enunciating.

//Regina. Is. My. Sister's. Name.//

Which he might remember, but it deserved a mention, anyway.

[furnaceface]

Jono did remember, vaguely, but he appreciated that George was willing to clarify, that way.

Especially with her volume turned down, like that. That part was much more appreciated.

He nodded a little, and then shrugged.

//I can't deny that,// he said, finally. //Not that it has any effect on me, really.//

Whether he was talking about the food, or the being extra-British on purpose, the world would never know.