fandomhighdorms | Second Floor Common Room; Wednesday Morning.

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Second Floor Common Room; Wednesday Morning.

Turtle had a box of overly sugary cereal, cartoons, and no obligations this morning. It left her a little bouncy on the couch, because, really, even multimillionaire capitalist geniuses needed to take a break every once in a while for cereal and cartoons. Especially fifteen year old ones.

[[ of course it's open. :) ]]

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Jeff came limping down to the second floor after a while, his back mostly ruined by sleeping propped up against a wall all night. He badly needed the exercise. He paused on the second floor, however (that's where Turtle lived, after all!) and, after some deliberation, headed out into it.

Only to find Turtle on the couch. "Is that the one where they find the box, and it tries to take over the world and then they kill it with nerf bats?" he asked, excitably.

Turtle looked suddenly distressed as she frowned at the TV screen, getting a horrible sneaking suspicion that that was exactly what was going to happen. "Jeff! I haven't seen this one yet!" Her pout was impressive, if not exactly all that genuine, as she had sugary cereal, cartoons, and now boyfriend, so there wasn't all that much to really pout on.

"Sorry," Jeff said, looking utterly contrite as he flopped onto the couch.

Whatever else was about to go into that apology (one of Jeff's famous explanations, probably) was lost in the sigh of utter relief he gave upon meeting a comfortable surface.

"Want some c'real?" Turtle asked, her own cereal still not exactly yet chewed or swallowed in her mouth, and she shook the box at him. And then he head tilted. "You look like crap," she observed, and swallowed. "What happened?"

She was going to guess it was something to do with the dog. It was always that dog. But at least Jeff appeared to have pants, so it couldn't have been that bad.

"She fell asleep," Jeff said, pulling a face. He reached for the cereal, however; sleeping in a weird position made you hungry. He'd added 'buy outside food' to his mental shopping list (and by that, he didn't mean a picknick). "In the doorway. How am I supposed to go to sleep if there's a Saint Bernard in my doorway?"

Turtle's eyes went up slightly as if that helped her see the workings of her brain as it trying to imagine weight ratios and distances and the possible but unlikely application of a lever.

She had nothing

"So what did you do?" she frowned with concern.

"Obviously actually getting in the room was sort of impossible," Jeff continued, stuffing his face with cereal. Mm, food. He hadn't realised just how hungry he was. "I really need to buy some outside food for next time I get locked outside my room. And perhaps some outside pillows. Actually, they should put pillows all over the hallway, it's only considerate, you never know when you're going to end up locked out."

"There's always food in the common rooms, Jeff," Turtle said with a slight frown, although she realized that perhaps he was a bit too panicked to realize this in the event. "And these couches. Maybe these couch pillows would finally get some use, you know?"

There was a brief pause, as if something, a spark of either inspiration or defect, had gone off in the back of her head and she didn't quite realize it.

Didn't quite realize it until after she spoke. "And I have an extra bed in my room since Miley moved out."

Blink.

Whaaaaat? Turtle, eyes wide, looked around the room a little, trying to find whatever alien had crept into the room to control her mind with a laser gun and make her say something like that, because that was clearly the only logical explanation that would apply to those words out of her mouth.

He had been entirely too panicked to realise this, yes. And tired. And lots of other adjectives he couldn't really think of at the moment but which seemed really pertinent to the situation at hand all of a sudden.

Thusly preoccupied, Jeff almost -- almost -- missed The Thing.

Unfortunately, 'almost' was most definitely not 'definitely', and so Adjectives and An Extra Bed In My Room collided in a massive pile-up in his brain, flinging wreckage in all directions and irreparably damaging some of his fondest childhood memories.

"...I'll keep that in mind," he said, in his sedate voice. "...Should probably put that in the contract. We wouldn't want to be caught on any legalities."

"Already added!" Turtle said quickly, a bit on the edge of the flailing precipice. Exact wording in her head, along with all thirty two subclauses up to and including the possibility that said arrangement was made under the influence of mind-controlling space beams.

She hadn't really blinked since that first blink of realization; this did not change as she turned her attention most definitely toward the TV. Without having any idea of what was actually playing on it.

That was when her palm met her face and she slumped on the sofa and let out a slight groan. Her hand practically burned off from the force of her blushing. Could she be any more of a spaz?

Jeff stared at Turtle hopelessly for a few moments. His brain was just too broken for him to have anything to say at all. So, with no hope of rerailing that particular train, he just snagged another handfull of cereal and returned his attention to the television.

After feeling like she'd properly chastised herself with a round of stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid chorusing in her head, Turtle shifted a little bit and idly commented. "So."

Swallow the cereal before you say something, Jeffrey! He swallowed the cereal. ...Think of something to say before you say something, Jeffrey! "...Sometimes I think my hair generates static electricity." Think of something sane to say before you say something, Jeffrey!

Maybe that's what it was. A disruption in the static electricity field shortwaving her brain. Turtle mentally added another clause to the extra bed amendment. She glanced over at Jeff, biting her lip a little as she looked at his head.

"I like your hair," she said, and gave a small smile. "Not in the least bit professional, but that's okay."

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Second Floor Common Room; Wednesday Morning.

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