#they are brothers to me but augh…kissies…

[akaikami-cherryblossom]

I think that Sakuya should be allowed to kiss Masumi no matter their relationship because yes

[writtenfan]

Never Again Will We Have A Double Date Night.

I mean it Lucifer!

SPNLucifer x Reader Imagine

Yeah...Date night didn’t go well. Next day...well. Towards the end of it, he’s had enough and reeealy just wants some quality time with you. Guess how that ends?

Warning: Some, angst, yelling, cuteness, some suggestive themes/imagery and swearing. <3

                             “Take a bubble bath with me.”

He tenses up his shoulders and lets them drop, swinging his head back in your direction with a pout.

You glance over to him; he has a serious dirty blond bed head. His hair sticks all over the place like static, he wore a rumpled up white shirt and black boxers and short dirty white socks. His eyes having dark circle along with the already present bags under his eyes. He had worn this all day.

After having a complete lazy-stay at home day sparked after the previous incident you two had with his brother Gabriel and Rowena at Red Lobster. Which made you extremely mad and unable...no unwilling, to talk to him.

After staring at you, without hearing a response, he childishly hits his thighs with closed fists while moving his head around like a spoiled child and stamping his feet on the carpeted floor.

“Take a bubble bath wiiiiiith meeeee!” He shouts

He turns back to you with a pouty lip and big eyes.

You say his name sternly, looking straight in front of you, trying not to give him the reaction he so desperately wanted and knew he could manipulate you into getting.

You had just taken a shower. He knows this.

“(Y/N)~.” He calls out to you in a sad high-pitched voice.

You hear him scooting himself rather clumsily across the couch until he bumps his hip into yours.

You don’t look away from the TV but the corner of your mouth twitches. He saw that and you could tell by his giddy chuckle. Damn it.

He bumps into you again, and again, and again until suddenly you're engulfed by his arms and his weight as he leans on you without mercy.

You start annoyed laughing as your smooshed onto your side and he starts making this low pitch wining sound into your arm.

The vibration tickles.

“Stop you big baby! I just took a shower!” You shout as you push against him only for him to act limp and slump onto you even harder. He takes his mouth off your arm and rubs the side of his oily forehead against your skin.

“I don’t caaaaare. I'm grungy, I’m lonely and I want bubble bath with my baaaaby!...”

You slap your hand against his cheek and hold it there, feeling his growing stubble poke you as your smooshing his face in.

You feel him making a kissy faces and after a few of those, he snaps his head to your palm and starts licking it.

“EWWW!” You try and pull back, but he grabs your wrist and starts licking, even more, travelling up to your elbow.

You press his head against the back of the couch with your other hand after prying it from under you and he starts laughing.

“Now you must take a bath and good thing because I was just headed that way. Wanna join? I got enough lavender bubbles soap for two~”

This child.

You try rolling yourself off the couch, but he catches you by the waist and just lets you dangle halfway onto the floor.

The blood rushes to your head as your hands brush against the carpet in defeat.

“Now.” He squeezes your waist. “I’ll let you go if you agree...” he rests his chin on your tailbone. “...To take a bath with me.”

He waits patiently as he squeezes you to the rhythm of a song playing in his head.

You say nothing and angrily dangle.

“Fine,” he grunts with a playful whine.

.....

....

....

.....

.....

You keep dangling for a few minutes, the sound of the tv playing in the background and the blood making you feel like your head was going to pop.

He starts squeezing you again, and it gets faster and faster until he lets out a loud sigh.

“Thats it.” He slaps your rear and you jolt, letting out an angry “Hey-” but you get cut off.

“I tried being patient...”He chuckles with an annoyed tone.

“... not my strong suit. I’m done! No more being angry at me time!!”

He slides himself off the couch still holding onto you, a bit tighter now, and...Oh, damn it.

You instinctively hook your legs around his neck as he wraps his arms around your lower waist and dangles you upside down in midair.

Your face. Well, your face...all your seeing is black boxers, and you are greeted by the manly...the manly scent that reeeealy needed that bubble bath but....kinda didn’t.

A win hate smell.

“AUgH OH G-YOUR FATHER.... Seriously Lucifer?!” You scrunch up your face and push yourself back by placing your hands on his thighs as you try to crane your head to look straight down at his shuffling white socks, instead of being repeatedly jabbed in the face by-

“-Augh Lucciiifer I’m sorry I haven't talked to you all day, besides asking if we still had frosted flakes in the cabinet this morning! And I’m sorry that I acted so mean to you when we came home last night because Rowena decided to be a bitch to you and instead of being on your side, I got angry with you too and let Gabriel eat my fries as I got ganged up on!”

He mocks back, then proceeds to pretend to bite your calf, letting his teeth graze your skin making gnawing sounds as he continues to walk towards the bathroom.

“You didn’t tell me you KILLED AND TORTURED HER MULTIPLE TIMES LUCIFER! Why didn’t you warn me beforehand?!” You shouted back, angrily staring at his hairy legs and repeatedly slapping your hands against them.

“The whole dinner she was trying to act calm, be the bigger person for Gabriel and I, but NOooooooo all you did was try and get under her skin! The constant torture puns, the nitpicking into their relationship! The loud and graphic detail of how you felt like decapitating that poor woman's head off sitting 3 tables away from us for looking at us funny and making her call the manager and guess what it worked, you got under her skin and that’s why you got yelled at Lucifer!” You shouted back patting his legs with your hands.

“ALRIGHT, DETOUR!!” he shouts.

As he takes a sharp left in front of the bathroom and back to the bed that you two usually shared, but where Lucifer was absent last night. As he slept on the couch.

He takes his hands and grabs your ankles, prying you off his neck and then throws you onto the bed. The wind is knocked out of you for a second. So, you just stare at the ceiling and cross your arms.

He stands over you, looking down at your face.

“I’m sorry alright?! I've said that...two or three times?” he starts counting on his fingers looking surprised at each finger he raised, then shakes his fingers at you.

“Yeah THREE WHOLE TIMES! Hey, sorry I still have a grudge from a witch who's backstabbed me more times than I can count!”

You scrunch your eyes and look up him. He stares back. A few minutes pass and he sighs.

“FINE.” He storms out the door. You continue laying on your back and you hear him storm back in. He starts fumbling with his shirt.

“Look, if I show you the girls will you forgive me?! Come onnnn look at me. Just look at alll this~”

He pops his shirt open and does a little dance and you slam your hand over your mouth as you almost crack a smile.

But you continue staring at his chest and your eyes begin to wander downward. His eyebrows wiggle as he stops moving and stands over you.

“You like right? Feel the anger just...” he motions a wave rolling with his hands. “Waaaashing awaaaay...all that frustration just...WOoooosh.

“Just behold the stunningly gorgeous vessel of Lucifer!!” He starts laughing.

You slam your hands on your eyes and groan.

“Hey! Hey...hey...I’m not done yet. Look, lookie here...what's this?....oohh, whats this??!”

You hear the sound of fabric and then something hitting the floor.

“Ah, Christ.”

[gumnut-logic]

The Morning After

This is the wip sequel to Two drunk men, a tree and a cat. It has been previously posted here in bits as I was using it to write for fifteen minutes each day at lunch. I stopped at some point because to be honest, fifteen minutes is okay to start and continue a fic, but concentration is needed to finish a fic and tie up all loose ends. So it has been sitting on my iPad neglected for a few months.

I don’t have time this morning to proof it, so it is as it was when I rush wrote it and it is still not finished, but @melmac78 was looking for a laugh and honestly, I’m thin on the ground for them, so here be another offering for what it is. It will finish it at some point, polish and archive, but for now it is still rough. 

Anyways, I hope it is vaguely enjoyable ::hugs::

-o-o-o-

He was comfy.

That was the only word for it.

Unfortunately, comfort was apparently inversely proportional to consciousness, because as he slowly woke, the degree of pain in his head increased.

Ergh.

Ow.

He didn’t even have to open his eyes to know the world was spinning around him. Around and around and around and, oh god.

His arms were wrapped around something...someone...warm and for a moment, focussing on that warmth kept the ugh at bay.

Hmm, Kay?

But then he got a whiff of something rank and his stomach rolled again.

The pillow was soft.

In bed. He was in bed.

His brain was not working properly.

Concussion? He’d had a few of those in his career and this felt ever so familiar.

A frown.

No.

Not concussion.

Late night. Party. Getting married. Despite himself, he smiled and snuggled into Kay’s warmth.

Huh?

That smell again. Urgh.

“K..ergh.”

“Vir...gl?”

Huh?

No, waking up was bad. Not want to wake up. He snuggled again, rubbing his cheek up against her hair.

“Virgil, whatcha doin’?” A brother. There was a brother in the room.

“Ergmmm...go ‘way.” He held her tighter. A vague thought, and he kissed her, hoping kissy-kissy would scare whichever brother it was away and let them sleep.

“Can’t.”

“Go ‘way! ‘Sleep.”

“You’re hugging my feet.”

It took a moment for the dots to connect, for the realisation that ‘Kay’ was much thinner than usual, that her hair smelt like old socks.

Connecting now...

Virgil’s eyes flew open and came face to face with Scott’s long hairy legs, wrapped in his own bare arms.

Virgil had day old socks shoved up against his nose.

“Sh-“

Scrambling backwards sent the world spinning, the bed missing and the floor hard.

“Oh god.”

Scott’s laugh was coarse and ended in a groan.

Served him right.

Virgil rolled over on the carpet and despite himself, echoed his brother’s groan. “What the hell happened?”

“Party, dude.”

Gordon.

What the hell was Gordon doing in his room?

“What...doing?”

“You’re definitely up there on the intellectual scale this morning, Virg.”

“Shut up.”

Opening his eyes produced a ceiling and two light fixtures...no one...uh, two...oh, god, urgh.

“Lookin’ a little green there, bro.”

“G-t lost.”

“No, no, I can’t. Thunderbird Five has assigned me ‘make sure they don’t die’ duty.”

“Where is John?”

“Getting breakfast.”

Ergh, food. “Why?” Room service. There was room service.

“Apparently, the ultimate bagel shop is just around the corner. You’re not allowed to die while he’s gone.”

Virgil finally worked out how to turn his head and came face to face with a pair of feet. Sandals. And sand? “You have sand.”

“Huh? Oh, forgot to rinse them last time. A little exfoliation won’t hurt.”

A blink and Virgil just groaned at him.

“So you staying down there all day? I hear Scott wants you to kiss his feet again.”

“Shut up.”

“Didn’t work the first time, not workin’ the second.” A pause. There were legs attached to those sandalled feet weren’t there? “C’mon, Virg, you need a hand up?”

“How’re you so...chirpy?”

He could feel the answering grin without seeing it. “Because I am Gordo the Magnificent, ruler of all things alcoholic.”

“Stick it.”

“Such insolence from the audience. Perhaps, I won’t help you up.”

“Fine. I’m great where I am.”

There was silence for a moment and Virgil used it to close his eyes again. Ah, blessed darkness.

A sigh. “Nah, c’mon, Virg, we gotta get you onto the bed.”

“Don’t wanna move.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said last time and that’s how you ended up kissing Scott’s feet.”

“Huh?”

“And there’s the intellectual brother I know.”

“Go ‘way.”

“Nope.” And there were hands on his shoulders and they were pulling him up and the world was tipping and oh my god, the spinning...ergh.

A pillow hit his face and he sunk into it. He screwed his eyes shut in an attempt to keep his stomach where is was supposed to be.

“So, today is the after party.”

Oh, so Gordon was still going. “G’way.”

“Uh-uh. That’s not going to work either. You told me you wanted to visit the Gallery, so we’re visiting the Gallery.”

The Gallery.

Virgil had a rule. If he visited a city on vacation, he made a point to stop at the art gallery. His list of visited sites was now longer than his arm. He’d become quite a connoisseur of all things artistic and if he was so inclined, he had the cash to invest.

Not that he ever did. Honestly, it was more about inspiration and admiration. He did have two or three favourites stashed back on the Island, but mostly he just gazed at them.

But today...gazing hurt.

“Rainch’k.” The pillow was so soft. He let himself drift.

“You’ll regret it.” It was sung. Gordon couldn’t sing. Ugh.

“Leave me along, Gordon, please.”

“No, you made me promise.”

Augh. “‘M on vacation.”

“Scott!”

On the other side of the room, his eldest brother yelped and shot out of bed and landed on the floor. A second of silence.

“Gordon! What the hell?!”

“Time to get up!”

“Gordon, leave him alone!” Some how Virgil found himself upright on the edge of the bed. It took a moment for his head to catch up and when it did, it slammed into him. Why did he do this? This was why he didn’t do this, because this happened. Oh, his head just, oh. He shoved the palms of his hands into his eye sockets attempting to push the pain out his ears.

TBC

 “Upsy daisy, up and at ‘em. The early bird gets the worm.”

“The annoying brother gets hit.”

“Now, now, Scott, that is not how a responsible eldest brother behaves.”

“Gordon, if you don’t leave the room, I’m going to responsible your head into the nearest toilet bowl and flush it until your degree in marine biology slides out your ears.”

The picture that evoked in Virgil’s head was quite detailed. “Can I help?” He didn’t bother to pull the hands from his eyes. Who needed eyes to see with anyway?

“Well, that’s gratitude for you. Here I am, preventing your deaths from accidentally inhaling a regurgitated last night’s meal-“

“I’m preventing your death by counting to ten and I’m about to run out of numbers.” Scott was actually growling.

“Okay, okay, let your deaths be on you.” The sound of sandalled steps in the direction of the door and a loud thud.

Thud?

“Gordon?” Scott called his brother’s name just as Virgil dropped his hands from his face. The room was blurry for a moment and he only caught Scott staggering across the room after he had already started moving. There was a sense of urgency all of a sudden and it pushed a groggy Virgil to his feet. Two steps and he stubbed his big toe on the leg of the bed.

“Shit. Goddamnit.”

“Language.” But it was distracted. “Gordon?”

There was no answer and as Virgil peered around his eldest brother, alarm bells started ringing in his head.

Gordon was flat on his back, out cold on the floor.

What the hell?

-o-o-o-

TBC

 Virgil stumbled over to his brother as fast as he could limping. Scott was already assessing Gordon for injury.

An egg shaped lump was forming in the middle of the aquanaut’s forehead.

As Virgil’s knees hit the floor, Gordon’s eyelids fluttered. “Wha-?”

“Gordon? You with me?” Scott’s voice was remarkably cool considering the situation.

Their little brother closed his eyes again and just groaned, rolling himself into a ball.

“Hey, hey, keep still.”

“G’way.”

“Gordon-“

“I’m fine. Juss hit m’head.”

“How?” It was out of Virgil’s mouth before he could filter it.

Scott eyed him and for a moment Virgil saw double. Shit, He was never drinking that much again.

“St’pid door.”

A blink and Virgil looked up at the closed door to their room. The dots danced in his head before slamming home. “You walked into the door?!” Ow, too loud. He shaved a hand onto his forehead and tried to keep his brain inside his skull.

“Stupid door.” Gordon rolled over and sat up.

“You’re drunk.” It was a sign of how hungover his eldest brother was in how he said that statement with so much awe.

“N’t drunk. Hit m’head.”

“Because you’re drunk.” The whole concept of happy chirpy go lucky Gordon who had been torturing them both since the moment consciousness had returned appeared to revitalise his eldest brother. A huge grin spread across his face and he even let out a laugh.

Seeing that Gordon was still in mostly one piece and functioning at least at a basic capacity, Virgil wobbled to his feet and made a beeline back to his bed, only tripping over his own feet once. His pillow was so soft, so warm, augh....he let his eyes drift shut.

A vague register of a scuffle on the floor. A click of the latch and a creak of the door opening.

Scott gasped. “John?”

What now? Groaning Virgil rolled over and found his next youngest brother standing in the doorway staring down at Gordon on the floor. Scott shot to his feet.

John’s hair was all askew and his arms bore several bleeding scratches. One hand held a bag of bagels, the other a makeshift bandage around it. His shirt was torn and there was a twig sticking out of his pocket.

Virgil didn’t have the energy to ask. Scott did anyway.

“What the hell happened to you?”

-o-o-o-

TBC

 John was hungry.

Sitting on his bed with only his tablet for company might have been a preferred existence at any other time, but today it wasn’t enough. Perhaps it was because technically he wasn’t alone with said tablet. Technically, he had two brothers in the room with him, but neither were particularly good company.

Amusing perhaps as Virgil was currently snuggled up to Scott’s feet, hugging them like his life depended on it. He wondered if Kayo had to wrestle the unconscious bear at night, but then realised that was information he didn’t really need.

The other factor affecting his state of aloneness was the noise.

Both Scott and Virgil were snoring like passing freight trains. Virgil was slightly worse than his eldest brother, but honestly, John would probably need some audio measuring equipment to truly tell the difference.

But all this was currently beside the point. The point now was that he was hungry. It was breakfast time and ever since Virgil had announced that this would be where they were staying for the bachelor event, John had jumped at the opportunity to breakfast at Billy’s Bagels, just around the corner from the hotel.

The online recommendation for bagel lovers had this establishment at the top of the list. This was the place, the epitome of bagel baking and he had been wanting to sample their menu for quite some time.

This was the perfect opportunity.

Except he had to keep an eye on his drunk brothers.

He had to make sure they weren’t ill in their sleep. Make sure they were safe. Because both of those factors had been removed from their own capabilities at about drink number four last night.

John had one or two drinks, but John felt he needed to be the responsible one and he was. It wasn’t often such a tactic was needed, but today it was.

But he was hungry.

Maybe Gordon could help him out.

The two youngest brothers were stashed next door. Alan was as sozzled as his eldest brothers, but Gordon seemed to be able to handle his drink so Gordon had been assigned Alan and John had tackled Scott and Virgil.

Maybe he could dash out to the store and come back.

Quietly slipping out of the room, he tapped softly on the next door. “Gordon?”

The door was shoved open so abruptly, John nearly fell through it.

“Hey, John.”

The sound of a computer shooting game screamed into the hallway. “What are you doing?”

“Killing zombies. Wanna join?” Gordon was staring up at him, a grin on his face, his hair sticking up at all angles. His face was flushed and his eyes bright.

“No. Could you keep an eye on Scott and Virgil for a few minutes, I’d like to go grab some breakfast.”

Gordon blinked. “Why not call room service? They make great pancakes.” To emphasise his point, he reached around the door and grabbed a syrup soaked piece of such a pancake and shoved it in his mouth.

John refused to react, much less comment. “I want to visit the bagel store around the corner. Could you keep an eye on the guys?”

“Sure! Alan, you’re on your own.”

The comment from beyond the door was not repeatable.

John frowned. “Is Alan okay?”

“Heh, he’s fine. I just left him at the boss battle fighting for his life.” There was a loud crash and a spray of profanity from the flickering darkness. “Well, he was, perhaps not now.”

“Gordon, you suck!”

His brother grinned and slipped out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

John was frowning, but doing his best to ignore it all. “They’re both asleep. Try not to wake them up.”

“FAB.” Gordon grinned at him again and wandered back towards the other room and slipped in quietly.

Hmm.

But Billy’s Bagels! Confirming his phone was in his pocket, John made a beeline for the elevator.

-o-o-o-

TBC

 The bagel shop was a bagel lover’s dream. They had cream cheese, they had blueberry, they had one concoction that included smoked salmon, capers and blue veined cheese that sat atop a savoury milkshake.

They had hot cinnamon, sugar encrusted, chop chip, caramel glazed burritos.

It was heaven.

John grabbed a takeout breakfast, a dozen still-warm, multi-flavoured varieties and one of those savoury milkshakes.

It was too outlandish to ignore.

So half an hour longer than he had expected to be, found John Tracy tramping back to the hotel room totally satisfied with his purchases. He had even made a bulk order for Tracy Island to be delivered in the coming weeks.

The milkshake was interesting. he found himself completely fascinated by the fact that it had tiny pieces of salmon floating in it, yet it was still quite tasty. Being of the enquiring type, he eventually pulled off the cup lid and poked at the concoction inside.

Distracted, he did not see the cat.

His foot came down on something soft and not made of pavement. There was a godawful screech and that something sunk its claws into his leg.

Ever graceful in non-gravity influenced situations, John was anything but in this situation.

A yelp, a stagger, an overbalancing squawk and John Tracy hit the pavement in a heap.

The claws in his leg immediately became claws in his arm, his chest, a swipe across his face and caught in his hair, a cat screamed in his ear.

Desperate to protect his face, his arms came up and what little was left of his milkshake ended up on said face.

The resultant expletives were appropriately exotic.

Something was licking his ear.

He sat up and the cat climbed into his lap.

What the-?

“What do you think you are doing?”

The cat ignored him at first. Much more interested in licking salmon off his kneecap, but when John reached for the cat to move it, a pair of startling blue eyes peered up and deployed their entire arsenal of cuteness upon him.

Now, John knew he came across a little cold sometimes, a little on the harder side of the emotional equation, but if he was honest with himself, much of it was a facade.

Particularly where it came to cats.

But then again, considering that this was likely the cat that had tangled with his brothers last night...yes, there was that same tree, not two metres away...he should be suspect.

But, yes, this cat was cute.

TBC

 Cute indeed.

Until a pigeon landed nearby.

The cat went from cute furball to feral killer in a split second. Silent and deadly it leapt at the bird.

And missed.

The pigeon being of metropolitan origin, took it in its stride, landing once again nearby. Apparently there was something equally attractive to birds as to cats in that milkshake splattered all over the sidewalk.

Or it may have been the bagel that had fallen out of the bag.

One of his precious, precious bagels.

“Scat!”

The cat jumped.

The pigeon didn’t. It eyed him.

John had never had a staring contest with a pigeon before.

Apparently, neither had the cat. It pounced yet again.

The pigeon politely flapped out of its way.

The bagel was still on the ground. Part of John wanted to give it to the pigeon, but he knew bread wasn’t great for birds and that was a hell of a lot of bagel for one pigeon.

The cat pounced again.

This time the pigeon flapped into the tree and stared down at them haughtily.

John sighed and reached over to pick up the bagel.

He’d never been swooped by a pigeon before either.

Also, the laws of gravity should have denied said pigeon the ability to snatch the bagel from his fingers.

But then gravity had always been his enemy.

Ultimately, the bagel went flying, the the cat leapt again and John ended up back on his butt on the pavement.

Ow.

This was ridiculous.

The cat obviously agreed and let it all out with a mad scrabbling of claws on bark, leapt into the tree and chased the pigeon along a branch.

The pigeon, of course, simply lifted off, hovered just long enough above John to deposit guano on his shirt, before calmly flying off.

Well, at least it didn’t get the bagel.

The cat meowed down at him several metres up.

Hadn’t this situation happened before?

TBC?

 “What the hell happened to you?”

John stared at his brother and sighed. “There was a cat stuck in a tree.”

Scott blinked slowly, obviously still feeling the night before. He opened his mouth and then shut it again before holding up a hand. “You know what, I don’t want to hear it.” He eyed his brother. “Unless you are bleeding to death and haven’t told me.” Those eyes roamed up and down John’s height.

“No, I’m not bleeding to death.” Another sigh and he took the few more steps needed to get into the room and shut the door behind him.

Virgil registered only one thing. “Wh-t is that smell?!” Ugh, it wasn’t ding his stomach any favours at all.

John wandered into the kitchenette and dumped his bagels. Virgil eyed him as he walked past. “You smell like fish!” Oh, shit. His stomach rolled over. Not gonna, oh god, not gonna. He held his breath until the urge waned. “Keep away from me.”

Scott dragged Gordon off the floor and threw him at the couch. “Sit down and let us know if you have a concussion.”

Gordon groaned, but he did what his brother told him, rolling onto the couch with a grunt and closing his eyes.

The eldest brother eyed him again and Virgil groaned, forcing himself to sit up. “You take John, I’ll take Gordon. Try not to puke.” Staggering to his feet, Virgil wobbled his way over to his fish brother and planted himself beside him. “Gordon, you’re an idiot.”

A groan. “And you’re related, sucked in.”

He had to snort at that. A smile even curved his lips as his hand landed on his brother’s arm. “So proud, bro.”

“Shut up, Virgil.”

“You fell out of a tree?!” It was loud. It came from the kitchenette, and Virgil was glad he chose Gordon this time.

“John is so in the shit.”

“No more than you.”

“Heh, I’m used to it.”

Again the smile crept up on him. Was fondness a symptom of alcohol poisoning? He let his head drop against the back of the couch.

“You okay, Virg?”

“Been better.”

“Happy bachelor’s party, bro.”

“Thanks for coming.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Gordon’s hand landed on his. Okay, now they were getting soppy.

Fortunately, John chose that moment to wobble back into the room. He dumped himself on the edge of Virgil’s bed.

“You okay?” The man had hastily applied bandaids all over him.

“Been better.”

A blink. “Scott recovered yet?”

“No, he was still reciting Dad’s fourth amendment when I left.”

Great, that meant there would likely be more as soon as the eldest finished up in the kitchenette.

“Who won?”

John blinked. “Ah, the pigeon?”

“There was a pigeon?”

“Uh, huh.” John frowned. “Uh, where’s Alan?”

TBC?