"You cheapskate! How could you get me nothing? I got you a cleaning kit for your knives!"
"One you stole off that mafia guy we got a shipment from."
Lujayn's cleaning her nails, not even watching Darel as he tries to look pitiful at her. Anyone could tell him it's no use; she's pitiless. She would eat puppies for breakfast. Around them, the crew pretends they're not laughing at the little scene.
"But I still thought of you! Come on, think of me a little, too."
"Like you didn't give me that kit just because it sucked and you didn't want it. Don't lie."
Darel stops in his tracks, sulks for a few seconds, and starts again. "But I still thought of you. Captain, come on, tell her she's not being considerate of the feelings of the crew or something."
Khiaw's eyes are shining with restrained mirth. "Lujayn, you're not being considerate of the feelings of the crew."
She snorts, gives the begging man a long, narrow-eyed look. "Fine."
Oriana passes by, to pick up more dirty plates and bring them to the dishwasher. Lujayn catches her elbow, sweeps her off her feet, and plants a wet kiss right on her lips. She makes it showy; all tongue tracing lips, lots of rubbing; she adds a little throaty moan, for effect, and a small smacking sound when she breaks it.
She sits back, leaving Oriana sprawled on her back on the table, stunned, and Darel still gaping dumbly on the other side. She gives him a cold smirk.
"It counts as your midwinter present too. But I'm sure you'll make it last."
He nods quickly, jaw still hanging. He gets a slap over the head courtesy of
Blue for it, but he doesn't even seem to notice. Heh. The cheapest present of
all, and she bets it's the one he'll use the most.