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mxcatmoonTitle: Misty Taste of Moonshine
Fandom: Miami Vice
Author: Cat Moon
Rating: M
Words: 2405
Characters/Pairing: Sonny/Rico, Candy James, Mothman
Summary: Picture, if you will, Sonny and Rico, naked and crouched on either side of a heart-shaped bed, guns pointed… Could be Sonny’s worst nightmare, or a dream come true. He’s inclined to think the former, but Rico is taking advantage of opportunity.
Country Roads, Take me home
To the Place I belong…
--John Denver
Sonny Crockett stopped dead in the doorway, one hand still on the light switch, finger twitching with the urge to shut it off again. Unfortunately, it was doubtful anything would ever be able to erase the image seared into his brain.
Not expecting the abrupt stop, Rico's forward motion continued until he ran into his partner's back.
Sonny ignored the collision, his attention elsewhere. There, in the middle of the motel room, loomed a huge, heart-shaped bed, draped in a red velvet spread. Around the outside, there was a layer of sheer pink curtains and another layer of pink beads.
Sonny blinked, but the vision didn't change. "What the he— You've got to be kidding me."
Let it not be said that Sonny and Rico weren't two very different people. Rico took one look at the décor and burst into laughter, doubling over with mirth.
"Yuck it up, pal, you're forgetting we have to sleep here," Sonny grumbled.
"I guess it's true what they say, West Virginia is for lovers."
"That's Virginia, not West Virginia."
The New Yorker shrugged. "All the same to me."
"This is a nightmare."
"You have nightmares like this?" Rico asked dubiously, prompting his partner to consider a rude response.
Sonny finally removed his finger from the light switch, dropping his bag onto the carpet. "I'm glad you think this is funny."
"C'mon man, gotta lighten up. Nothing we can do about it except make the best of it."
And that was the sad reality. For some reason unfathomable, every hotel and motel in this godforsaken town was booked up. If they'd taken Rico's Caddie instead of the Testarossa, sleeping in the car in the parking lot would have been an attractive option.
The rest of the room was decorated on the same theme: neon lips on one wall, and an abstract painting on the other that morphed from nothing discernible into a suggestively amorous scene as Sonny stared at it.
"Almost Heaven, West Virginia," sang John Denver in a twangy voice as the radio was flipped on.
"Like hell it is!" Sonny declared with a snort.
"The radio reminds me of my home far away," the city boy quipped, quickly changing the station with a grunt of disgust.
"I get a feeling that I should have been home yesterday," Sonny responded earnestly.
Rico fiddled with the knob, cycling through a few news stations and pausing on some eerie new-age instrumental piece that caused a prickle of goosebumps on Sonny's skin. It didn't help that things had been…weird between them lately. A crazy road trip was just the icing on the cake.
Rico finally found and settled on a station playing Barry White, which was probably more fitting with the ambiance, but didn't make Sonny feel any more comfortable. Quite the contrary, in fact.
"Never, never gonna give you up, I'm never ever gonna stop, not the way I feel about you, I just can't live without you," Rico sang, voice pitched low in an attempt at imitating Barry, which missed the mark entirely, but was… a thing in and of itself.
The goosebumps returned.
Sonny rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. The universe was conspiring to torture him, and he wished he knew how to break the karmic spell. "You got any aspirin in your bag?" he asked his partner, wondering if he could beg some at the front desk if not.
"Wow," Rico murmured, which was not an answer to his question.
Bracing himself for whatever was coming next, Sonny followed Rico's gaze. There, in the corner behind the bed, was a jacuzzi.
"Of course," Sonny said in surrender. Maybe this was a dream after all. If it wasn't in vivid living color, he would have been sure of it. And speaking of color…
The tub was red, too.
And then things got worse.
"When in Rome," Rico decided out loud and began taking off his clothes.
"I've had enough of this night; I'm going to bed and pray for morning," Sonny hastily sputtered, nearly throwing himself on the bed fully dressed. Realizing that would look odd, he slowed down and managed to strip down to his boxers, slipping beneath the sheets.
Praying wasn't working. Sonny punched his pillow yet again, but he'd been trying to beat it into submission for the past ten minutes, and it wasn't working. Sleep was not going to rescue him.
"You'd think they would've tried to make this bed comfortable instead of like a rock," he groused.
"You should come have a soak," Rico suggested. "It'll help you relax."
"Oh no, it won't," Sonny mumbled under his breath.
"What was that?"
Now, Sonny Crockett was known for bad decisions. In fact, whenever there was one to be made, you could count on him to make the wrong one. It was his claim to fame.
"Ah, what the hell," Sonny muttered, sitting up and tossing off the blankets. Eyeing the hot tub and its occupant apprehensively, he nonetheless approached and stepped into the bubbling heat. He sank down, suppressing a sigh and studiously not looking at his partially naked partner.
Er, pretending not to.
"Wait, what's that?" Sonny demanded, as he saw a glass in Rico's hand from the corner of his eye.
"It appears to be moonshine." Rico held the jug up in his other hand. "Someone must have forgotten it."
"And you were gonna hold out on me?!" Sonny asked indignantly. He snapped his fingers in a give-it-here gesture.
"There's only one glass," Rico told him.
By this point, Sonny had no issue with drinking out of the bottle. Still, Rico passed over the glass he'd been drinking from. Sonny decided not to think about the intimacy of them sharing the same glass. Taking a generous swallow, he gasped at the burn. "Who-wee, that's potent stuff!"
"Probably best to just sip it," Rico admonished, reaching over to take the glass out of Sonny's hand. Somehow that seemed to bring him closer in the already limited space.
Sonny grabbed the jug off the ledge of the tub, taking another swig. “What’s misty-tasting about moonshine, anyway?” He watched Rico’s wet shoulder rise and fall as he shrugged.
“Guess you’d feel misty if you drank enough of it.”
"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Sonny said loudly, already feeling the effects of the booze. "I'm in a dive motel room in West Virginia, with -- count 'em -- one heart-shaped bed, sitting half naked in a red, heart-shaped jacuzzi with my partner, drinking moonshine. Have I got that, uh, right?"
Rico laughed. It was a light sound, as if the weight of being a vice cop had been lifted from his spirit by the new surroundings and the booze. It was nice, and Sonny wanted to hear more of it.
"Put it that way, sounds like a bad porn movie, doesn't it?"
Maybe not so bad… Sonny prayed he hadn't said that out loud, but the moonshine was going to his head. It wasn't Rico, no, not even when Sonny reached out for the glass again, and his hand brushed against something that wasn't the glass, but was probably hard enough to cut some. That's when he realized only one of them was partially clothed.
They both froze.
Then, slowly, as if it was happening to someone else, Sonny watched his hand move down, under the bubbling water, wrapping around that hardness.
Rico sucked in a loud breath.
You're holding your partner's dick! What are you doing, you idiot?! As usual, his body ignored his brain, and when Rico shifted closer, Sonny found himself shimmying out of his boxers, leaning back, encouraging that hot, solid body to cover his.
On the radio, ABBA was surrendering, singing, I was defeated, you won the war."
Then Rico stopped moving, one hand in Sonny's hair and the other wrapped around both erections. "I don't wanna screw up what we got, so tell me if you—"
"Waterloo," Sonny whispered and hooked a hand around Rico's neck, pulling him closer and pressing their lips together.
And then he learned that Rico knew how to suck dick.
The brain raised a finger in inquiry; Sonny stepped on it, but heeded the warning his lungs were giving him. He grabbed Rico's hair to pause the proceedings, feeling an unpleasant guilt twist his stomach when his partner's expression indicated he was half expecting Sonny to end things.
"I'm just about to pass out from this heat," Sonny explained quickly. "Can we move this to a cooler venue?"
Smiling, Rico climbed from the tub and held out a hand. "Let's go make our own heat." It was a low growl of promise that had Sonny switching their positions and practically dragging Rico over to the bed, where they tumbled down into a tangle of limbs.
It was fast and frantic, but still the best Sonny had ever had. Which should probably have freaked him out, he realized distantly. Still, the dopamine flooding his system said that was absolutely not a problem.
They sucked on each other's tongues, hands moving faster as they strived for that one perfect moment Sonny could feel coming on like a freight train. Closer, closer… and then, finally and too soon, he was plunging over the precipice.
Sonny orgasmed to I Feel the Earth Move, by Carol King, with Rico just a heartbeat behind.
Floating on a cloud of endorphins, Sonny stretched languidly, reaching out to run his fingers over Rico's chest. Now that he could touch, he didn't want to stop.
"Okay?" Rico asked hesitantly.
Sonny chuckled. "Much more than just okay. In fact," he began, moving closer to the body next to him. He didn't get to finish his sentence, though, because at that moment they were both jolted out of their afterglow by a loud commotion outside the door… followed by a crash as the door caved inward and two bodies came tumbling through.
Reacting instinctively, both cops rolled over their respective sides of the bed, scrambling to grab guns off the nightstands and aiming them at two people who were untangling themselves from each other and scrambling to their feet.
"Miami Vice, freeze!" Sonny yelled, prompting an incredulous look from his partner.
The two intruders froze and stared at the two naked cops crouching beside the heart-shaped bed. One of them was a blond woman with too much eye makeup, dressed in a see-through purple babydoll nightie. The other was…
Apparently, Mothman.
"What the fuck is going on here?!" Sonny demanded, the extreme cuss indicating just how at the end of his rope he was.
The lady raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You're asking us that?"
"Don't change the subject," Rico barked.
She stabbed a finger into Mothman's shoulder. "He was trying to run out on me without paying!"
Now that the shock was wearing off and heart rates slowing back to normal, it was obvious 'Mothman' was a guy in an all-black bodysuit, a set of wings, and a face mask. And there was something naggingly familiar about the hooker…
"Candy?" Sonny murmured, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth.
It was too late, though, because Candy leaned forward to ostensibly get a better look at the two detectives ducked behind the bed. "Holy shit, Sonny and Rico?!" She pointed at them in triumph. "See? I knew it! I knew I was right!"
Sonny wondered what else was going to go wrong tonight, hoping he wasn't as red as the bedspread.
"Man, it's a small world, isn't it?!" Candy remarked, shaking her head.
"Too small," Sonny added.
Rico one-handedly pulled the top sheet from the bed to wrap around his naked body, earning a jealousy-annoyed look from Sonny, whose choice was either to: preserve his modesty by staying put, say screw it and strut around nude, or somehow find where his underwear had gotten to.
Rico, meanwhile, approached the duo by the door. "Don't move!" he warned them. He patted Mothman down for weapons, glanced at Candy, clearly deducing she wasn't concealed enough to have a hidden weapon, and kept his attention on the guy. "Let's see your ID," he ordered.
"Please," Mothman began to beg pathetically as he fumbled to remove his license and hand it to Rico. "You can't arrest me, I'll never do it again, I promise! Please, I'm married!" he added for good measure.
"Oh, I am not writing a report on this one!" Sonny declared, for reasons both related to the bizarre incident and to their own part in it. "Get the hell out of here!"
"Pay the lady!" Rico ordered Mothman, who, still clearly terrified at the potential for being carted off to jail (under the circumstances they couldn't blame him), started pulling bills out of his wallet.
Candy snatched the money up as Mothman began inching his way towards the exit.
"What are we supposed to do about our door?" Rico asked as he surveyed the broken remnants leaning askew. He threw a glance at his partner over his shoulder. "Or lack of."
Candy tossed a key at Rico, producing it from wherever it had been stashed. Sonny didn't want to guess. "Here, you can use mine; I don't need it, and I have the room till check-out tomorrow." She glared at Mothman's back as he scuttled out the door. "He's obviously not paying for a whole night."
MVMVMV
Candy's room was blessedly normal, and Sonny collapsed onto the white sheets of the regular full-sized bed, feeling the mattress bounce as Rico did the same next to him.
For a long time they just lay there silently, staring at the ceiling and processing. There was a lot to process.
"How do we explain that we were attacked by Mothman in our motel room?" Sonny wondered. It was rhetorical, of course; the answer was no one was ever going to find out.
Rico pondered the question anyway, finger tapping on his chin. "I always said he'd be more afraid of us than we are of him."
The absurdity of the situation settled now that things were finally quiet. The chuckles started slowly, gradually growing until they were both laughing out loud.
Hopefully, tomorrow, everything would go back to normal (or what passed for normal in their world), and they could forget this trip ever happened.
Well, parts of it. Other parts were forever.
--Fin--
Fandom: Miami Vice
Author: Cat Moon
Rating: M
Words: 2405
Characters/Pairing: Sonny/Rico, Candy James, Mothman
Summary: Picture, if you will, Sonny and Rico, naked and crouched on either side of a heart-shaped bed, guns pointed… Could be Sonny’s worst nightmare, or a dream come true. He’s inclined to think the former, but Rico is taking advantage of opportunity.
Notes: Inspiration… good lord. Well, it all started with a comment on one of my fics on AO3 that quoted “Take me Home Country Roads,” where I then jokingly threatened to write a fic where S&R had to go to WV. So then, I was scrolling Tumblr when I saw a photo of a bedroom similar to the one described in this story. And then I started thinking about the time I visited WV myself. And Mothman (no, not visiting Mothman, just thinking about him). Oh yeah, and the time there was no room at the inn on another trip. Kind of an amalgam of many trips I took in my youth. You should probably be afraid to read this story, come to think of it.
Country Roads, Take me home
To the Place I belong…
--John Denver
Sonny Crockett stopped dead in the doorway, one hand still on the light switch, finger twitching with the urge to shut it off again. Unfortunately, it was doubtful anything would ever be able to erase the image seared into his brain.
Not expecting the abrupt stop, Rico's forward motion continued until he ran into his partner's back.
Sonny ignored the collision, his attention elsewhere. There, in the middle of the motel room, loomed a huge, heart-shaped bed, draped in a red velvet spread. Around the outside, there was a layer of sheer pink curtains and another layer of pink beads.
Sonny blinked, but the vision didn't change. "What the he— You've got to be kidding me."
Let it not be said that Sonny and Rico weren't two very different people. Rico took one look at the décor and burst into laughter, doubling over with mirth.
"Yuck it up, pal, you're forgetting we have to sleep here," Sonny grumbled.
"I guess it's true what they say, West Virginia is for lovers."
"That's Virginia, not West Virginia."
The New Yorker shrugged. "All the same to me."
"This is a nightmare."
"You have nightmares like this?" Rico asked dubiously, prompting his partner to consider a rude response.
Sonny finally removed his finger from the light switch, dropping his bag onto the carpet. "I'm glad you think this is funny."
"C'mon man, gotta lighten up. Nothing we can do about it except make the best of it."
And that was the sad reality. For some reason unfathomable, every hotel and motel in this godforsaken town was booked up. If they'd taken Rico's Caddie instead of the Testarossa, sleeping in the car in the parking lot would have been an attractive option.
The rest of the room was decorated on the same theme: neon lips on one wall, and an abstract painting on the other that morphed from nothing discernible into a suggestively amorous scene as Sonny stared at it.
"Almost Heaven, West Virginia," sang John Denver in a twangy voice as the radio was flipped on.
"Like hell it is!" Sonny declared with a snort.
"The radio reminds me of my home far away," the city boy quipped, quickly changing the station with a grunt of disgust.
"I get a feeling that I should have been home yesterday," Sonny responded earnestly.
Rico fiddled with the knob, cycling through a few news stations and pausing on some eerie new-age instrumental piece that caused a prickle of goosebumps on Sonny's skin. It didn't help that things had been…weird between them lately. A crazy road trip was just the icing on the cake.
Rico finally found and settled on a station playing Barry White, which was probably more fitting with the ambiance, but didn't make Sonny feel any more comfortable. Quite the contrary, in fact.
"Never, never gonna give you up, I'm never ever gonna stop, not the way I feel about you, I just can't live without you," Rico sang, voice pitched low in an attempt at imitating Barry, which missed the mark entirely, but was… a thing in and of itself.
The goosebumps returned.
Sonny rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. The universe was conspiring to torture him, and he wished he knew how to break the karmic spell. "You got any aspirin in your bag?" he asked his partner, wondering if he could beg some at the front desk if not.
"Wow," Rico murmured, which was not an answer to his question.
Bracing himself for whatever was coming next, Sonny followed Rico's gaze. There, in the corner behind the bed, was a jacuzzi.
"Of course," Sonny said in surrender. Maybe this was a dream after all. If it wasn't in vivid living color, he would have been sure of it. And speaking of color…
The tub was red, too.
And then things got worse.
"When in Rome," Rico decided out loud and began taking off his clothes.
"I've had enough of this night; I'm going to bed and pray for morning," Sonny hastily sputtered, nearly throwing himself on the bed fully dressed. Realizing that would look odd, he slowed down and managed to strip down to his boxers, slipping beneath the sheets.
Praying wasn't working. Sonny punched his pillow yet again, but he'd been trying to beat it into submission for the past ten minutes, and it wasn't working. Sleep was not going to rescue him.
"You'd think they would've tried to make this bed comfortable instead of like a rock," he groused.
"You should come have a soak," Rico suggested. "It'll help you relax."
"Oh no, it won't," Sonny mumbled under his breath.
"What was that?"
Now, Sonny Crockett was known for bad decisions. In fact, whenever there was one to be made, you could count on him to make the wrong one. It was his claim to fame.
"Ah, what the hell," Sonny muttered, sitting up and tossing off the blankets. Eyeing the hot tub and its occupant apprehensively, he nonetheless approached and stepped into the bubbling heat. He sank down, suppressing a sigh and studiously not looking at his partially naked partner.
Er, pretending not to.
"Wait, what's that?" Sonny demanded, as he saw a glass in Rico's hand from the corner of his eye.
"It appears to be moonshine." Rico held the jug up in his other hand. "Someone must have forgotten it."
"And you were gonna hold out on me?!" Sonny asked indignantly. He snapped his fingers in a give-it-here gesture.
"There's only one glass," Rico told him.
By this point, Sonny had no issue with drinking out of the bottle. Still, Rico passed over the glass he'd been drinking from. Sonny decided not to think about the intimacy of them sharing the same glass. Taking a generous swallow, he gasped at the burn. "Who-wee, that's potent stuff!"
"Probably best to just sip it," Rico admonished, reaching over to take the glass out of Sonny's hand. Somehow that seemed to bring him closer in the already limited space.
Sonny grabbed the jug off the ledge of the tub, taking another swig. “What’s misty-tasting about moonshine, anyway?” He watched Rico’s wet shoulder rise and fall as he shrugged.
“Guess you’d feel misty if you drank enough of it.”
"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Sonny said loudly, already feeling the effects of the booze. "I'm in a dive motel room in West Virginia, with -- count 'em -- one heart-shaped bed, sitting half naked in a red, heart-shaped jacuzzi with my partner, drinking moonshine. Have I got that, uh, right?"
Rico laughed. It was a light sound, as if the weight of being a vice cop had been lifted from his spirit by the new surroundings and the booze. It was nice, and Sonny wanted to hear more of it.
"Put it that way, sounds like a bad porn movie, doesn't it?"
Maybe not so bad… Sonny prayed he hadn't said that out loud, but the moonshine was going to his head. It wasn't Rico, no, not even when Sonny reached out for the glass again, and his hand brushed against something that wasn't the glass, but was probably hard enough to cut some. That's when he realized only one of them was partially clothed.
They both froze.
Then, slowly, as if it was happening to someone else, Sonny watched his hand move down, under the bubbling water, wrapping around that hardness.
Rico sucked in a loud breath.
You're holding your partner's dick! What are you doing, you idiot?! As usual, his body ignored his brain, and when Rico shifted closer, Sonny found himself shimmying out of his boxers, leaning back, encouraging that hot, solid body to cover his.
On the radio, ABBA was surrendering, singing, I was defeated, you won the war."
Then Rico stopped moving, one hand in Sonny's hair and the other wrapped around both erections. "I don't wanna screw up what we got, so tell me if you—"
"Waterloo," Sonny whispered and hooked a hand around Rico's neck, pulling him closer and pressing their lips together.
And then he learned that Rico knew how to suck dick.
The brain raised a finger in inquiry; Sonny stepped on it, but heeded the warning his lungs were giving him. He grabbed Rico's hair to pause the proceedings, feeling an unpleasant guilt twist his stomach when his partner's expression indicated he was half expecting Sonny to end things.
"I'm just about to pass out from this heat," Sonny explained quickly. "Can we move this to a cooler venue?"
Smiling, Rico climbed from the tub and held out a hand. "Let's go make our own heat." It was a low growl of promise that had Sonny switching their positions and practically dragging Rico over to the bed, where they tumbled down into a tangle of limbs.
It was fast and frantic, but still the best Sonny had ever had. Which should probably have freaked him out, he realized distantly. Still, the dopamine flooding his system said that was absolutely not a problem.
They sucked on each other's tongues, hands moving faster as they strived for that one perfect moment Sonny could feel coming on like a freight train. Closer, closer… and then, finally and too soon, he was plunging over the precipice.
Sonny orgasmed to I Feel the Earth Move, by Carol King, with Rico just a heartbeat behind.
Floating on a cloud of endorphins, Sonny stretched languidly, reaching out to run his fingers over Rico's chest. Now that he could touch, he didn't want to stop.
"Okay?" Rico asked hesitantly.
Sonny chuckled. "Much more than just okay. In fact," he began, moving closer to the body next to him. He didn't get to finish his sentence, though, because at that moment they were both jolted out of their afterglow by a loud commotion outside the door… followed by a crash as the door caved inward and two bodies came tumbling through.
Reacting instinctively, both cops rolled over their respective sides of the bed, scrambling to grab guns off the nightstands and aiming them at two people who were untangling themselves from each other and scrambling to their feet.
"Miami Vice, freeze!" Sonny yelled, prompting an incredulous look from his partner.
The two intruders froze and stared at the two naked cops crouching beside the heart-shaped bed. One of them was a blond woman with too much eye makeup, dressed in a see-through purple babydoll nightie. The other was…
Apparently, Mothman.
"What the fuck is going on here?!" Sonny demanded, the extreme cuss indicating just how at the end of his rope he was.
The lady raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You're asking us that?"
"Don't change the subject," Rico barked.
She stabbed a finger into Mothman's shoulder. "He was trying to run out on me without paying!"
Now that the shock was wearing off and heart rates slowing back to normal, it was obvious 'Mothman' was a guy in an all-black bodysuit, a set of wings, and a face mask. And there was something naggingly familiar about the hooker…
"Candy?" Sonny murmured, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth.
It was too late, though, because Candy leaned forward to ostensibly get a better look at the two detectives ducked behind the bed. "Holy shit, Sonny and Rico?!" She pointed at them in triumph. "See? I knew it! I knew I was right!"
Sonny wondered what else was going to go wrong tonight, hoping he wasn't as red as the bedspread.
"Man, it's a small world, isn't it?!" Candy remarked, shaking her head.
"Too small," Sonny added.
Rico one-handedly pulled the top sheet from the bed to wrap around his naked body, earning a jealousy-annoyed look from Sonny, whose choice was either to: preserve his modesty by staying put, say screw it and strut around nude, or somehow find where his underwear had gotten to.
Rico, meanwhile, approached the duo by the door. "Don't move!" he warned them. He patted Mothman down for weapons, glanced at Candy, clearly deducing she wasn't concealed enough to have a hidden weapon, and kept his attention on the guy. "Let's see your ID," he ordered.
"Please," Mothman began to beg pathetically as he fumbled to remove his license and hand it to Rico. "You can't arrest me, I'll never do it again, I promise! Please, I'm married!" he added for good measure.
"Oh, I am not writing a report on this one!" Sonny declared, for reasons both related to the bizarre incident and to their own part in it. "Get the hell out of here!"
"Pay the lady!" Rico ordered Mothman, who, still clearly terrified at the potential for being carted off to jail (under the circumstances they couldn't blame him), started pulling bills out of his wallet.
Candy snatched the money up as Mothman began inching his way towards the exit.
"What are we supposed to do about our door?" Rico asked as he surveyed the broken remnants leaning askew. He threw a glance at his partner over his shoulder. "Or lack of."
Candy tossed a key at Rico, producing it from wherever it had been stashed. Sonny didn't want to guess. "Here, you can use mine; I don't need it, and I have the room till check-out tomorrow." She glared at Mothman's back as he scuttled out the door. "He's obviously not paying for a whole night."
MVMVMV
Candy's room was blessedly normal, and Sonny collapsed onto the white sheets of the regular full-sized bed, feeling the mattress bounce as Rico did the same next to him.
For a long time they just lay there silently, staring at the ceiling and processing. There was a lot to process.
"How do we explain that we were attacked by Mothman in our motel room?" Sonny wondered. It was rhetorical, of course; the answer was no one was ever going to find out.
Rico pondered the question anyway, finger tapping on his chin. "I always said he'd be more afraid of us than we are of him."
The absurdity of the situation settled now that things were finally quiet. The chuckles started slowly, gradually growing until they were both laughing out loud.
Hopefully, tomorrow, everything would go back to normal (or what passed for normal in their world), and they could forget this trip ever happened.
Well, parts of it. Other parts were forever.
--Fin--
