Pitch and Lark: A Small Victory

Late-night mischief from last night. Lolz. (Also slight PG warning.)
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Lark woke from a quickly-fading dream of blood and spears, one that she had far too often. It was pitch-dark, and it took her a few minutes to realize that she wasn't in her room at the University. At the same time, she felt a warm body at her back and an arm wrapped loosely around her waist. Oh sweet Elune, she thought. I fell asleep! She immediately tried to shift Pitch's arm off so she could get up and return to her own bed, but it wouldn't budge. She made herself stop and try to think through the sleep-haze clouding her brain.

Okay, he's probably asleep and doesn't realize I'm trying to get up. She tried using a bit more force, but the arm still wouldn't budge. Next she tried wriggling out from under, but it tightened slightly, just enough to keep her trapped. Lark stopped to think again.

She jerked herself awake again after just a few moments- he was warm and the bed was comfy, but she really did need to get back. Maybe if she woke him... "Pitch," she whispered. "Wake up and let me up." There was no response whatsoever from the sleeping druid, and she sighed in frustration. "Pitch!" she hissed, and tugged at his arm again. Still nothing. Was he faking it? No, he couldn't be, he wouldn't be able to keep that still and quiet. Would he? She tried both pulling and wiggling at the same time, but he tightened his arm again, until she could hardly move. He was so strong! She gently slapped at his arm, not wanting to wake him but seeing no alternative. Again there was no response, not even a grunt. She debated elbowing him, but hesitated. If he was that soundly asleep, he must be really tired, and she hated the thought of disturbing him. On the other hand...

Lark reached back and drew her fingers up his side, lightly, but he still didn't move. That surely confirmed it- he was extremely ticklish there, and couldn't remain that still unless it was deliberate. "Dammit Pitch, I have to get back," she whispered. "Quit playing around and let me loose." Still no response. She finally did elbow him, hard, then had to pause and rub her elbow. She had forgotten how hard he was, even though just a few hours ago (by her reckoning at least) she had been running her hands all over him while he- She stopped that thought right there. That certainly wouldn't get her anywhere, though it might indeed get him to let her go temporarily... No. Stop it.

Fuming now, she tugged, pushed, elbowed and even pinched, but he remained immovable as a rock through it all. Finally she stopped. "If I'm late getting back in the morning it'll be all your fault, and I'll be sure to tell Arrens that, too," she muttered, expecting to get at least a gloating chuckle out of him, but he kept silent even now. He was awfully warm and comfortable, though, even when she wanted to slug him, and almost without thinking she snuggled back against him. Her anger only lasted until she fell asleep again.

She woke in the morning to find him watching her with a cheerful smile. Lark managed a half-hearted glare as she got up and started dressing. She stopped suddenly, her shirt half-on, and looked at him soberly. "You know we're still only friends, right? The fact you tricked me into staying the night doesn't change that." He regarded her, his expression as serious as her own. "Of course," he replied. "I wasn't expecting otherwise." She relaxed at that and pulled her shirt the rest of the way on. Pitch stood as she buckled on her belt. "There is just one thing, however," he added as he stepped closer. She looked at him curiously, eyebrow quirked. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he dropped a chaste, almost brotherly kiss on her forehead, then moved away, toward the door. He flashed her a broad grin. "I win." With that he dashed out the door, shifting as he went.

Lark was left spluttering. "You.. you.. you..." The last she saw of him was a big black cat running off outside the window, heading out of the Park.