momslilassassin | Ender's Swingin' Bachelor Pad, Naboo [Wednesday, Fandom time]

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Ender's Swingin' Bachelor Pad, Naboo [Wednesday, Fandom time]

The nice thing about how time worked on Naboo was that even a few days away from Fandom meant that Ender and Ben had gotten almost a week to themselves to unwind.

Now the fridge was restocked, the rooms were prepared and the droid Ben had made was bustling industriously around getting rid of dust bunnies.

Ben and Ender were ready for their Fandom (and other universes!) invasion.

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Warren took a moment to scope out his current drink situation, shrugged, and downed the rest of his first one.

"You're right," he said, feigning surprise as he set his empty glass back down on the table. "I do. I'll have what you just had."

Warren was now taking his life into his own hands.

"You won't regret it!" Ben declared, even though he had absolutely no evidence to back that up.

Warren was going to believe Ben! Because Ben was a good friend who wouldn't let him do something stupid like drink explosives!

Right?

"And I'll get you another one, too!"

This is how you knew Warren was your friend, Ben. See?

"Yay!"

And this was why Ben made poor choices when he drank.

"Warren likes the way I cook!"

No, Karla. Warren loved you. And was too much of a softy to tell you the god's honest truth about your culinary disasters.

Edited 2012-07-05 23:51 (UTC)

Wait. Were lap dances a thing they weren't supposed to get because they were together? When did that become a rule? Who passed it? Karla had not been informed!

IT DIDN'T COUNT AS A RULE IF SHE HAD NOT BEEN INFORMED!

"So what you're saying is that you found a new way to make sure you have plenty of room to stretch your wings?" Karla surmised. "While proving you're a badass? In space?"

This was Karla's 'believing you' face. Honest.

WELL, WARREN WAS ENFORCING THAT RULE ON HIMSELF, ANYHOW.

"And getting actually drunk," Warren added, smirking a little as he ran his fingers through her hair again. "Getting drunk is easier to do, apparently, when you're drinking those things."

Super-alcoholic drinks that kept his healing factor busy rebuilding his insides!

...WHY?

"And getting a hangover is also easier to do," Karla grumbled into his chest. "Because the alcohol is harder to metabolize when neither my body nor my Black Widow systems recognize it."

Because he was a hopeless romantic, Karla. That's why.

"I think my body just treated it like any foreign substance," Warren noted, "and tried to break it down as efficiently as it could."

Rub it in some more, Warren.

"I'd, um, offer to help with that, but a blood transfusion for the sake of a hangover might be a little extreme."

One of these days, Ender was going to have to have a chat with Warren about this blatantly self-destructive behavior.

"Warren has a healing factor," he said.

See, but if you went together, Karla would be willing to share them with you!

Again, she raised her head to pout at him. "If you could feel the way my head was throbbing, you wouldn't think so," she informed him. "I might die, you know."

Yup. Die. It could happen.

Karla didn't see how those two items went together.

"Yeah, and wings, too."

"The wings are irrelevant," Ender said lightly. "The mutation that contributes to Warren's ability to stomach your food is, however, not."

Edited 2012-07-06 01:50 (UTC)

"So you'd like me to open a vein and bleed on you?" Warren's eyebrow, Karla. See how raised Warren's eyebrow was, here? That was the eyebrow that suggested that you were being silly. "Could be messy."

"Hey!" Karla protested. "That's not true! He stomachs it because it's good!"

On the issue of Karla's food, Ender had long since surpassed 'being nice', as it had become clear that approach only led to worse calamities. Which is why he sighed, and said, "I've had better food in Battle School, Karla, please, don't cook, you can't grasp the chemistry."

"Would be worth it," Karla muttered. See how pouty her lip was, Warren? That lip suggested she was clinging to her silliness because she could.

...Besides, you ignored her attempt to draw you into silliness before, with your refusal to get even a little jealous and pet her ego.

"I have a headache."

"And you know I'd have to cut you open, too, for it to do any good?"

Just making sure they were clear on this. Mutant blood did a lot of things, but it did not transfuse itself.

"Oh, you mean like the preservatives and stuff?" Karla asked. "No, Ender, I don't mess around with any of that junk. Fresh ingredients all the time--or whatever I can find in a common room."

"Only my head," Karla argued. "And it would be worth it, because sawing my skull open can't be any worse that having it explode out one temple as whatever unnatural, alien being that took up residence inside of it comes bursting out in a shower of blood and gray matter."

Karla was so eloquent when she wished to be. And, notice, even hungover, she didn't mention bone shards.

"No, I mean the actual chemistry of cooking," Ender said.

This was a losing battle. It was quite possibly his only battle. He was quite dedicated to trying to win it anyway, even if it might take him whatever percentage of his life Karla would be a part of.

"'Whatever you can find in a common room' often tends to amount to disaster."

Warren and his Panem traumas were very thankful for that, Karla.

Very, very thankful.

"... Okay, then! Time for a shower!" And up he was standing, lifting Karla right along with him. "It'll do you some good. Probably more than me giving you some sort of cheap home lobotomy ever could."

It would, Ender. It so would.

"Oh, you're right," Karla said, thoughtfully. "There are probably a lot of preservatives and chemicals in that stuff. I mean, it was made to withstand a bunch of negligent teens. I should probably cook only with stuff I purchase myself."

It would be the greatest battle of his life!

... until the Siege of Collin's Name, anyway.

Ender rubbed at his face. "You should probably not cook," he said. "Period."

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Ender's Swingin' Bachelor Pad, Naboo [Wednesday, Fandom time]

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