she's the kinda song you could play over and over
Mild isn't bad Jack; if anything it's mature. Of course Flora is still far too young and wild herself to want to see the captain on his best behaviour at all hours of every single day. While the Doubletake is more than happy to be oogled and mentally cast in varying erotic scenes in the minds of those around her, there's something undeniably (and problematically) hot in knowing that Jack's possessive hands around her waist could turn into fists at any moment.
Grinning at him as if she was merely pleased to catch his eye in the mirrors, if the queen's mind begins to wander into what it might be like to bait someone into getting a bit handsy with her, really Jack will only have himself to blame for it.
"Hey!" Feigning outrage, Flora waggles her empty champagne flute at one of the assistants lurking nearby before giving Jack an amused look. "What's that supposed to mean?" She wants to know, before the tailor glances up and gives them both an easy smile. "We will make sure it fits." The tailor says modestly, though as Jack's fingers go rifling through his thoughts, the captain will feel the lurid pulse of excitement in anticipation of having Flora at his disposal once more. As if sensing this, the queen gives Jack the mental equivalent of a shove. Whatever he's thinking I don't care. He's good at his job. She thinks; if the tailor wanted her to show up naked and freshly waxed for her appointment, she'd do so with a smile given the quality of his work. Besides, given that she couldn't read his thoughts, he seemed entirely harmless to her anyhow.
Reaching out a hand for her champagne, Flora's thougths grow thorny and barbed as Jack mentions the war, though having just seen her twin so recently and with plans3 levels to go to bring him back to her side permanently, she was able to smooth them down quite quickly. "Does that make you a king, for having slayed it then?"
Grinning at him as if she was merely pleased to catch his eye in the mirrors, if the queen's mind begins to wander into what it might be like to bait someone into getting a bit handsy with her, really Jack will only have himself to blame for it.
"Hey!" Feigning outrage, Flora waggles her empty champagne flute at one of the assistants lurking nearby before giving Jack an amused look. "What's that supposed to mean?" She wants to know, before the tailor glances up and gives them both an easy smile. "We will make sure it fits." The tailor says modestly, though as Jack's fingers go rifling through his thoughts, the captain will feel the lurid pulse of excitement in anticipation of having Flora at his disposal once more. As if sensing this, the queen gives Jack the mental equivalent of a shove. Whatever he's thinking I don't care. He's good at his job. She thinks; if the tailor wanted her to show up naked and freshly waxed for her appointment, she'd do so with a smile given the quality of his work. Besides, given that she couldn't read his thoughts, he seemed entirely harmless to her anyhow.
Reaching out a hand for her champagne, Flora's thougths grow thorny and barbed as Jack mentions the war, though having just seen her twin so recently and with plans
