Mile High with a Vampire - Episode 7

Our intrepid vampire/mortal couple are rescued by none other than some guy who I think heads the vampire family. Quinn and Jet are forced to recognize their feelings for each other and they battle a giant tiger over a box of sugar breakfast cereal. 

Only half of that is true. 

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

You know it's kinda funny. I'll sit here and I'll be talking to myself for quite a while. No issues. But the second I bring down a microphone to record, all of a sudden I have to clear my throat a lot. Kinda fucking annoying. So welcome back to Storytime with Uncle Beanbag episode seven. Predictions for this episode. I think it's gonna pick up where the le last one left off, where Quinn shot I think his name was Lucian. And I think that they're going to be rescued fully well, he's there, so of course they're gonna be rescued. And I also think that Quinn and Jet Thunderbuns are gonna have to confront their feelings for each other. Might end up in crazy monkey sex. They're also gonna have to explain what the fuck happened to all these people who were there. Chapter seven. I'm so sorry. Oh my god, I can't believe I did that. Quinn babbled, wiping off her shirt and bawling it up as she rushed across rushed across the room to Lucian Arginot. Going up on her tiptoe, she pressed the cloth against the man's wounded shoulder to stop the bleeding. Okay, so she did shoot him on the s shoulder. I couldn't quite remember. It'd been a week since I read that last one. As she assured him, I would never have pulled the trigger if I'd realized it was you. Which you surely would have known if you'd opened your eyes before pulling the trigger, Lucian Lucian Argineau growled through clenched teeth as she put pressure on his wound. Or if you'd bother to call out or knock some Oh, that's Quinn. Or if you bothered to call out or knock something or somet or something. What the Or if you bothered to call out or knock or something. I think it was the two oars that were getting me confused. Quinn pointed out sharply with annoyance. Why the hell didn't you? Now I'm gonna have to live with shooting the great Lucy and Argino. Dear God, I don't like that like I don't have enough on my conscience. It's not I don't like, it's like I don't have enough on my conscience. She muttered, Hey, I didn't say murdered this time. Wow. Lifting the cloth to see that the bleeding was slowing incredibly quickly. Of course it was. See, he's got a much worse shotgun wound than what I did. Mine just was only under the skin. But he's an immortal vampire. I have all of the immortality, I just have none of the regenerative capabilities. There's a lot of stuff that's happened in my life that I should be dead from, and there's no reason that I'm not. Of course it was. He was immortal, she reminded herself. Still she pressed the cloth tightly back into place rather than rather pleased when Lucian sh sucked in a sharp breath. That's the other thing too, is I can read just fine. And then if you're asking me to do this podcast, which you're not asking me to, I'm doing it voluntarily. But when I sit down and start reading the podcast, the words just get all fucking flummoxed, and I don't understand why. Maybe it's because I have performative anxiety, but it's not really the case because I'm doing this and I'm pretty relaxed when I'm doing this until the word solemnly comes up, which I'm fully expecting somewhere in this chapter it'll come up, because we haven't had a chapter yet that it hasn't. Glowering down at her, he snapped, I was being quiet because I didn't want to warn anyone that we were here until we found Kira and Lilia. Quiet my ass, Quinn snored with disgust. We could hear you pounding around. Wait, you haven't found the women? she asked with alarm. We have Nika and Marta, but not Kira and Lilia, he growled, pulling her hand and bald up the cloth away from his shoulder. Where are they? I'm probably drinking the blare bear's blood, I don't know. How the hell am I supposed to know? Quinn asked with agitation and slapped the cloth determinedly back to his shoulder. The only one I saw was Nika, though we did hear another window break around the side while she was at the front. So is it safe to come out? Oh this is Jet. So is it safe to come out or not? Jet asked from behind them. Cause it's kind of hard to breathe in here with all of us squished together like this. I think one of the girls is already fainted and I'm feeling a little lightheaded myself. Quinn glanced around with concern at that, her eyes widening with dismay when she saw that Jet was being crushed against the bars by the crowd behind him as they struggled for room to breathe. Anders, Lucian suddenly bellowed right in her ear. Get in here, I found the mortals. Did he see mortals? Brittany asked as Quinn turned back to Lucy and Arginaux and slapped his hand to keep him from pulling away the cloth as she pressed through his shoulder. Stop that, we have to stop the bleeding, she told him sharply. I am a mortal, he reminded her. The nanos will stop the bleeding. I need blood, not a doctor. Okay, so Lucy and Arjunot, who is like one of the heads of the Arginaux family, is a fucking Nanobot vampire. Does that mean tomato? Isn't a fucking Nanoba vampire too? Because tomato is over a hundred years old, apparently. And then he went all fucking Edward on Abigail. Are we gonna meet them anytime soon in the book? Or do they have their own books? I don't give a fuck. I'm not gonna look that up. No blood, a beautiful mocha skinned man announced under the room. We just gave the last of it to Kira and Lilia. You found them, Quinn asked relief, soaking through her the moment the man nodded. The fellow Anders, she presumed, ran wide eyes over her in her bronze slacks as she again slapped Lucian's hand away from the cloth she was holding to his chest. His lips twitched with amusement, but he said, Yes, Kira was hurt pretty badly, but was still in control of herself. However, her injury weakened her. Lily was just helping her across the yard to the lodge when they were spotted. I'm so glad, Quinn breathed, relieved to know that Lilia hadn't been hurt. Uh Quinn. Frowning, she glanced back to the cage, her concern deepening as she took Ginjett's colouring. Here she said, grabbing Andrew's hand and pressing it over the cloth on Lucian's shoulder sh Lucian Lucian's shuck you, Lucian Lucian, whatever the fuckin' L guy. His shoulder before sliding her own out. Oh her own handout. I was reading that and my brain just kept locking on shoulder. Hold that for a minute, she ordered, and then rushed over to the cage to grab the padlock. Quinn stared at it blankly for a minute and then lifted her head and asked, Does Sean still have the keys? Sean, just rip the fucking lock off, Quinn. You're strong enough you can just pop it. Fuck, I'm strong enough I could just pop it, not with my bare hand. But give me like a wrench or like a pry bar and locks aren't very strong at all. There was a murmuring from behind Jet, and then he groaned as he was pressed even more tightly against the bars as the people behind him tried to move to look for Sean. Oh my god, he's on the floor. I don't think he's breathing, someone cried. Cursing Quinn. Here we go. Exactly what I just fucking said, Quinn. Quinn snapped the padlock off the cell and caught Jet when the door swung open and he started to fall out. Breathe, Jet, she murmured, dragging him away from the door, so that the others could escape. Quinn set him down against the wall, checked to be sure he was still breathing, and then straightened and hurried into the now empty, or nearly empty cell. Jason and Brittany were the only ones still inside with the unconscious man. Jason was watching as Brittany performed mouth to mouth on the unconscious man. Why didn't he just say Sean? Why do you have to say unconscious man twice in the same fucking sentence? Quinn urged him out of the way and knelt to take Sean's pulse. Much to her relief there was one. The young man was still alive. He's waking up, Britney said with relief. Quinn peered at Sean's face, smiling when he opened his eyes and he and stared at her. Are you an angel? he asked faintly. Fucking hate that line, man. Every time I hear that line now I think of fucking Anakin Skywalker. I don't remember if he says it in the movie, but in the novel adaptation for The Ventum Menace. He says that to Adame. Quinn's eyebrows rose slightly, but she merely shook her head and scooped him up to carry him out of the cell. Even with most of the people who had been crammed in there gone, the inside of the cell was still hot and airless. She set him down next to Jet, who is awake now and looking much better. Then she straightened and peered around, scowling when she saw that Anders is not holding her shirt over Lucian's wound as she instructed. Lucian, Lucian, I fucking don't know. I'm an American. I don't pronounce fucking foreign names like that. Although I guess technically most names are foreign to an American. She's about to head over to rectify that situation when something warm and heavy was draped over her shoulders. Glancing down she saw it was Jet's aviator jacket. He was on his feet now, looking a little flush as he tried to tuck it close in front, because she's in her bra. Small tits that Jet's very into are heaning out pretty much. Oh thank you, she murmured, shrugging first one arm then the other into the jacket. My pleasure. Jet growled, zipping up the front for her. Young Sean's eyes were about to fall out of his head. He was goggling at you so hard. Gwynne's eyebrows rose at the jealousy she heard in his voice, and then she leaned up and kissed his cheek quickly before taking his hand and drying him with her as she went to where Lucian Anders and the third man were now talking. The newcomer Okay, what the fuck? That time I didn't stumble over the fucking word Lucian. All the other times I'm like Lucian. It's like Marguerite. For the first first three or four fucking times, I kept s trying to fucking pronounce it weird, and now I've got it just fine. I keep wanting to say Lucius too, like Lucius Malfoy. Jason Isaacs as Lucian Mal Lucian. Lucian fuck. Now I'm doing it again. Lucius Malfoy. Stunningly pretty man. Character not so much. Doesn't have the rock charisma of David Bowie or Tim Curry. Still very pretty though. The newcomer was a dark haired behemoth of a man who made her think of her brother in law for some reason. While Santo was bald and this man had long dark hair, he was a similar size to her brother in law. She also had a similar he also had a similar mouth, and the same black eyes with silver in their depths, she noted. Her eyes widened slightly when Jet said, Dante, good to see you. Oh sorry, Jet. Dante, good to see you. The large dark haired man turned a relieved smile on Jet, his gaze moving over him with concern as he stepped forward to shake his hand and say, I am glad you are well, Jet. Abigail and Mary have been having fits. Who the fuck is Mary? We know who Abigail is. Was there a mention of Mary before? No fucking idea. Realizing then that this was Dante Note the or Note, whatever, the brother in law of Jet's best friend slash adopted sister, Abigail, Quinn left them talk and moved over Lucian. Stop poking at me, woman, Lucian barked, swatting out her hand when she began tugging the ragged edges of her shirt away from the wound to get a look at it. I'm not poking, I'm a doctor, I'm examining, Quin Quinn snapped. You're annoying, he countered with irritation. Well, that's gratitude for you, she murdered I said it wrong, I said murdered. Muttered with disgust. Gratitude, Lucian choked out with disbelief. You shot me. Just fucking let him be. What he's not gonna fucking die from this. He just needs a little bit of fucking blood to repair that shit. She's not she could offer up Jet or give Jet the choice. Because he's already been preyed on before by her, but that's probably not gonna happen because she's probably extremely possessive of Jet as a blood bag. But then like when Jet will become a vampire, which I'm sure is gonna fucking happen at some point, because they're gonna be together, then does that mean that they're no longer feeding on each other or she's not feeding on him anymore? Do they go feed on somebody else, or is it just randomly sample blood? Does that also mean that if you are bit and turn into a vampire, do you no longer come in your pants every time you're bit? Uh, you know, with like the ecstasy shit that happened in what was it the last chapter? Or maybe it was the chapter before. I don't quite remember. See, I I'm a week apart in reading this, and I do listen to my podcast somewhere in the middle of the week just to kind of refresh my brain. But a lot of shit has happened this week at work, and I completely forgot the majority of what fucking happened in the last chapter. Only because you didn't warn me that it was you and not one of those crazy bloodlusting local Russians around. Quinn loco, Russians around. Uh, running around. Wow, I fucking skipped running. Quinn responded, flushing with embarrassment, and then she bit her lip and asked, How are you feeling? You lost a lot of blood. You aren't going to go all loco bloodlusty on us too, are you? Why did you lose loco twice, Lindsay? In such a s such a quick context. Just say fucking crazy. Like you you have the entire internet at your hands. Just look up fucking synonyms for loco. Just pull up a fucking thesaurus and look at that shit. Lucian scowled at her darkly and then growled. Anders, take this creature and her mortal upstairs, please. I want them on the helicopter and the minute it returns and her mortal. Yeah, so I'm pretty sure though Lucian and almost everybody except for Quinn and Jet have been well, Jet's not including that. Everybody but Quinn has been cognizant of the fact that Jet has been lusting after Quinn for years. I'm very confident in that. And now that Quinn got a taste of Jet, although they haven't fucked yet, but a literal taste, they uh kind of are pushing her towards it maybe. Never mind, the next uh the next sentence just completely diffuses everything I just said. Of course, Andrew said mildly and then arched an eyebrow, which one is her mortal? The one presently attached to her hip, trying to look down his own jacket at her breast, Lucian said dryly. Quinn glanced around with the start to find that Jet and Dante had joined them. She was just quick enough to see him jerk his head up and scowl Lucian. I was just trying to make sure the jacket was done up uh enough to zipper uh cover fuck. I fucked that up so bad. Let me try this again. I was just trying to make sure the jacket was done up enough to cover everything. It's a bit large on Quinn and the zipper doesn't come up as high on her as it does on me. Of course, Lucian said dryly, and raised an eyebrow at Anders. Why are they still here? Because I'm finding this amusing, Andrew suggested. Dante burst out laughing at that and then shook his head and offered. I will see them out. I have to go back down to the others and help with the cleanup anyways. Besides, I'm sure you can use Anders' help down here. Lucian grunted at that, which Quinn was Quinn guessed was agreement when Dante began to usher them from the room. Quinn dragged her feet though, and glanced over at her shoulder toward the lodge workers, asking, Well what about Brittany and the others? They will be taken care of, Dante assured her. Everything will be taken care of. You're no longer on your own in this Quinn. We'll handle everything and you and Jet can rest down until the holoc the holo the helicopter comes back. Yeah, I just listened to the unspooled podcast about Princess Bride and how they're they were talking about at one point where it's the scene where they're trying to infiltrate the castle. They pull a Holocaust cloak out of nowhere, seemingly, and just kind of, you know, expect people to roll with it. Which is fine because it doesn't break immersion, you know, who cares where he got the cloak, even though I think he got it a little earlier. Uh and I think it actually shows him pulling it out somewhere. But the fact that he has it is fine. So when I started reading helicopter, my brain immediately swapped to holocloth holocaust cloak. And I keep fucking up the word. And I'm gonna leave in some of those. I'll edit out the ones where I just stumble over it completely. Kind of, maybe. I don't know. Maybe I'll leave it all in. Holocaust Cloak. Instead of Holocaust Cloak and Helicopter. Fuck. When will that be? Jet asked as they made their way along the basement hall to the stairs. The helicopter is leaving to take Kira and her girls to Cochrane as I came below. Who the fuck is Cochrane? There's another fucking character you just introduced. Who the fuck is Mary? Who the fuck is Cochrane? The pilot said it would take close to an hour and fifteen minutes to get there. Oh, maybe Cochrane's a town. Like the nearest town? I don't know. Figure fifteen minutes to half an hour for him to get Kira and the women off the helicopter, load it up with blood and whatever else the pilot is bringing back, and then another hour and fifteen minutes to fly back. Dante calculated aloud. So probably three hours, he announced apologetically. Three hours, the Jen almost moaned at the words as they started up the stairs. Quinn wasn't surprised. That's just enough time for monkey sex, man. She was sure he must be as exhausted as she was, besides which she just wanted to get back to civilization in some form of normalcy. There are bedrooms upstairs, Dante pointed out. If the two of you wish to lie down and rest for a while, I'm hearing that with a wink, even though it's not saying that. I can come wake you up when the helicopter returns. That sounds good, Jet said and then asked. Do you have any food on you? No, Dante said apologetically. No, and Jet nearly goggled at that news. What the hell, man? You and Tomaso always have food on you. I've never seen you without it. I had a Snickers bar Oh I had Snickers try that again, B Mag. I had Snickers bars. Nope. I had Snickers bars, but I ate them all while we were searching, Dante admitted and then said. But surely they have food here. They should, Quinn said, joining the conversation. Brittany said the provisions were delivered with her and Jason yesterday. She told them, remembering that was one of the things the girls had babbled about to her as she'd led the way back upstairs after the girl had shown her the booze box. Frowning, she added, I don't know where the kitchen is, though. I do, Dante announced as they reached the upper hall. Slipping around them, he said, Follow me, and led them up the hall through the front room where Nika had thrust her arms through the window and then down another hall on the other side of the building. So it's clear that the nanobot vampires do eat. And I don't know how much sustenance they get from the food because the nanobots are what's doing their vampiric abilities, and they need to regularly consume blood because they don't have enough blood in their bodies to power the nanobots. Lindsay, this is the fucking dumbest idea you've ever had in fucking literary whatever nonsense. I can't believe you're fucking having me speculate about nanobot fucking vampires. This irritation is not gonna go away anytime soon either. We're not even halfway through the book yet, guys, and I'm we're still gonna have to deal with so much more nanobot vampire stuff. But getting back to the food part of the speculation. What happens if they don't have food for a while? But they do encounter a situation where they have plenty of blood. Does the nanobot do the nanobots repair everything constantly from breaking down from cellular degradation? Can they do that without a food supply? Because we saw what happened, well, we read what happened with the other two who were emaciated and they didn't have a lot of blood, so they basically became shriveled up ghouls. But what happens when their bodies can't replenish any energy because they don't have that? Does it just start eating away their fat reserves and then there's a really good one uh episode of Love, Death and Robots where it's an astronaut who's kind of stranded and to preserve her life, the suit cuts off parts of her body, basically making them non-functional at that point. And it's trying to do the bare minimum to keep her alive. Is that just is that what's gonna happen with the vampires? Like if they don't have a food source, is it going to start consuming not just their fat reserves, but their muscle reserves, their blood vessels, their flesh, their bones, their eyes, whatever have you? That could be some interesting, horrific shit that Lindsay will never cover. All that speculation I just did is useless, but it would make a really good book. Minus the Nanobot part. Eat what you wish, Lucy and we'll have it replaced before we finish here, Dante said as they entered a large kitchen. But if you nap after, use the rooms near the stairs so I do not have to search half the place when the helicopter arrives. We will, Quinn and Jet said at the same time, and then smiled tiredly at each other as the immortal left the room. Well, let's see what we have, moving to the refrigerator and pulling the door open. Wow, a lot of choices here. Oh, Quinn moved beside him and pushed up onto her tiptoes to look over the arm at the contents on opera. Her eyes widened when she saw the polystock bridge. Wow, look at all those vegetes and oh no, Jet said at once, nudging her away from the refrigerator. Don't even look at the green stuff. You're eating real food, not salads and seeds. Nice idea, but your so-called real food needs cooking, and I'm not much of a cook, Quinn admitted happily. This is where we're going to learn. Jet now, okay, him just being a good cook, that that's pretty easy. I know a lot of guys who are pretty good cooks. I know a lot of women who are pretty good cooks. It's not hard to learn, especially with YouTube and everything nowadays. But here's where we're probably gonna learn that was a sous chef at a Michelin star restaurant or some weird fucking nonsense that has no bearing to anything else. But Lindsay thought it sounded good, so she'd throw it in there. So continue reading. He says, Lucky for you then that I am, he said lightly, urging her toward the table in the center room. Go sit down and I'll make us something. I'm surprised she didn't have him talk about his history right then and do another lore dump. Quinn smiled faintly as he hurried back to the refrigerator. He seemed a lot more chipper, his exhaustion falling away with the prospect of food before him. Well, and now that you're out of danger and he's fucking horny, yeah. And he's cooking for the woman he wants the fucking bane. Ga you know, that does a lot to guy's mood. I made a pie for one of my exes. She fucking loved it. Had some really good sex after that, too. Dropping to sit on one of the chairs at the table, she asked, So how d how come you know how to cook? Alcoholic mother, remember, he said with an amusement, as he retrieved an onion pepper, cheese, and milk from the fridge. It was learn to cook or starve. Couldn't eat at abs in her mom's house every night of the week. Well, that's actually pretty impressive that she didn't have him be some, you know, chef at some fucking restaurant and it's just, you know, survival cooking with minimal ingredients. I will actually give Lindsay Sands props for that one. Oh, Quinn murmured, recalling that conversation about his mom from the dream. It seemed they definitely shared it. She thought as she watched him set the items he collected on the table and returned the refrigerator for eggs and a couple more items. There's a British group of guys that I watch on YouTube every once in a while called Sorted Food that actually did a tour of the four corners, and half of what they showed in Utah is stuff that I eat at regularly or have been to. So that was kind of cool. But they do a lot of stuff too, where they'll take random ingredients and then they have to make a dish. And there's two people who have worked as professional chefs and then two others typically who are home cooks, when their cooking level is a lot higher than mine on a lot of stuff just because they're British and they tend to go for more of the uh European type cuisines. Whereas I'm American and I like coyote and rattlesnake just fine. So it'd be kind of interesting though to cook for them and have them cook for me. What's fun about these guys though is that they often throw random ingredients at them and they kind of have to do challenges while they're cooking. And I like the energy that these guys keep up. And so that's kind of what I'm seeing in this scenario is where he's just pulling random stuff. I don't know what he's making right now, but he's probably gonna make some like cheese sauce or something, and then boil up some pasta for or something. But uh Yeah, it just kind of reminds me of those guys' sort of food. They're pretty fucking funny. Fortunately, Mom Marge was happy to teach me to cook when I hung around their house, Jess said, transferring the few items he gathered to the table and then moving off to start opening covers and drawers. You called her Mom Marge? Quinn asked with interest, following him with her eyes. Yeah, he smiled finally as he returned to the table with a large bowl, uh a cutting board, a pairing knife, setting them on the table with the rest of the stuff. He shrugged and added, It's what she was. His smile faded now as he added grimly. Unfortunately, the Navy didn't see it that way when she died, and I tried to get leave to attend the funeral, so Abigail's mother died. That kind of sucks. Why am I invested in that? That's fucking weird. I'm not invested in that. Like Abigail's the only character I even give a two fucks about in this entire story, and she's never shown up. She's the only one, you know, she's been mentioned a few times, but I don't give a fuck about any of the others. Why am I attached to Abigail? That is fucking bizarre. I have no idea. As far as they were concerned, if she wasn't a blood relation, I didn't need to attend. Oh, I don't know if that holds true. I'm I was never in the military, I was never in the Navy, so I don't have anybody directly to ask on that that I know was in the Navy. I don't think that holds true, though. I think that's something that Lindsay just kind of made up. Because if she was basically his surrogate mother for a while, I think that would be fine. Just to go to the funeral. He shook his head grimly and sat down to start peeling an onion. Actually, that's part of the reason I refused to sign on for another tour. I was so pissed at them for not letting me go to her funeral. Expression turning sad, he shook his head unhappily. I should have been there for abs. I never got to say goodbye to Mom Marge. I fucking hate that he calls her mom Marge. Why don't you just call her mom or Marge, man? You can have two moms, Jet. It's fine. Lesbian kids have that all the time, or kids that have lesbian moms have that all the time. It's 2026, well, 2021 when this was written, but whatever. Quinn reached out to touch his arm in sympathy, and Jet looked up with surprise and then smiled at her crookedly before turning his attention back to the onion and murmuring, You're good with sharp things, why don't you grab a knife and help me by slicing up the pepper? That I can do, Quinn said with a forced chair. I've thought for just half a second. She was gonna say that it was very different cutting vegetables than people, 'cause being a surgeon and all. But she didn't, so instead to go find a knife. It took opening a couple drawers, but she finally found one and returned to the table and set to work on the green pepper, cutting it in half, removing the seeds. She started to slice the pepper into lawn strips and then sliced those into pieces and then paused to ask. Like this? Jet checked out what she cut so far and nodded. Perfect. Great, she said wryly, returning to slicing. I may have had to give up surgery, but I at least have a veggie slicing to fall back on. Jet chuckled at her comment and said, I don't know. Seems to me like you have a lot of skills besides wielding a scalpel. Like what? She said, with disbelief. Wielding a scalpel is pretty much all she knew. Quinn was very aware that she was a one trick pony. You handle a gun pretty well, he pointed out and teased. You blasted a nice big hole in Lucian downstairs. Ha ha, Quinn said dryly. Voice more serious in concentration on the onion that he was dicing, Jet added. And you saved the lives of eight mortals today. That was pretty impressive. So, onions. Right? They're just talking about onions, they're dicing up onions and all that. Because I'm a nosmic, which means I've lost my sense of smell, I have a very weird reaction to onions. My eyes water profusely, but I don't know why most of the time. And it takes me a long time to remember that onions actually affect you with the smell when the vapors coming off of them and everything. So I'll cut up an onion or two and then I'll start going, why are my eyes burning? What the fuck? Because my mind just cannot keep that association that the reason that I can't smell that and immediately remember that onions make my eyes burn is because the memories are gone. So it's just kind of funny to start, you know, doing the onion cry without having no context of why the fuck I'm doing the onion cry. Also, I really miss eating onions like apples. They were really good raw. Baked are fantastic too. But when I had front teeth, which I don't anymore, that's because of smoking and other things. Uh when I had a good solid front teeth, I would eat onions raw like that. Just bite into them like a crisp apple. And they're so good. I love onions so much. Don't really like shallots though. I think they have a pretty bad flavor. Well, it wouldn't be bad, it's just not strong enough. I like a really good punchy, strong white onion or kind of like a nice punchy, um, sweet yellow onion. Red onions are good too. Pickled onions, fantastic. Didn't realize this is gonna go into diatribe about fucking onions. We saved them, Quinn said firmly. Jet snorted at the claim and said cheerfully, Well, that's bullshit. It's true, she insisted. I couldn't have done it without you. All I did was slow you down. You could have reached the lodge quicker if you hadn't had to drag me around, he pointed out and then raised his hands and meters gait. We made it ten pages, eleven pages, ten pages until she fucking wrote solemnly. Fuck, what can you just not use that for like a chapter or two? If you stopped using solemnly right now, Lindsay, when it comes back in in like ten chapters nearer the end of the book, I will be fucking surprised about it. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna hate it any less. This is fucking ridiculous. We're seven chapters in, and the solemnly count is like thirty five for seven fucking chapters. Where does that fucking thesaurus? You keep saying local, you keep saying solemnly, you keep saying frowned, which you haven't done for a little bit. You don't have to worry about my e you don't have to worry about my ego, Quinn. I know what I'm good at and I know what I'm not. It doesn't bother me that I need you to s needed you to survive today. And last night. Someday there may be a situation where I can save our asses, but this is not one of those days, he shrugged. It's not a big deal. Quinn watched silently as he worked. Yeah, it's because her ex husband was a fucking asshole. She's not going to be used to dealing with a reaction like this. He really didn't seem bothered by the fact that she'd had to save him and the others. Not that she really had the revolution and his men is what really saved them. But she had carried Jet here, and then she dragged Jason away from the window before Nika could grab him. She'd also kept Jet from going to Nika when the Russian had taken control of him, and then placed herself in front of them, all ready to fight for them down in the basement, and Jet didn't mind. That and he really wants to fuck you. That was rather surprising to her. Patrick would have had fits at the idea of her saving him. Actually he would have made it impossible for her to do so. He wouldn't have let her carry him unless she was unconscious, and once here he would have tried to take charge rather than share decisions with decisions with her as Jet had. Then when it came to getting into the cage, he wouldn't have. He would have insisted on taking the shotgun and staying out of the cage, whether it meant risking being controlled and made to shoot her or not, his ego wouldn't have allowed anything else. She wondered why the two men would have reacted differently. Why would Patrick have needed to try to control everything and be the hero when he couldn't? Just because he's a fucking little prick. I have a family friend who has a husband like that. I'm not gonna name names, I'm not gonna go into details. But he's extremely controlling over almost every aspect of her life. She doesn't want to divorce him. I understand her reasoning. But he's fucking worthless. She didn't see him as any less of a man because of it, and actually it was the opposite. Jet seems stronger to her than Patrick ever had. He was more dependable somehow, more self-assured, maybe. He knew his strengths, but he also knew his comparative weaknesses as immortal and didn't try to pretend they didn't exist or were something to be ashamed of. He treated them like they were just part of him rather than something to cover up. Exactly like how I treat my weaknesses. Do I want an Asian Nanobot vampire waipu? Fuck no. That ship is selled. Here we go. Quinn glanced up, surprised to see that while she'd been distracted with her thoughts, Jed had finished dicing the onions, found a grater and grated cheese, and then mixed the eggs and milk and whisked them in a frothy state. So I guess she's just doing an omelet. I thought she was gonna do some cheese sauce pasta stuff, but it sounds like an omelet. What can I do? Quinn asked as he found a frying pan and set on the stove. There's juice in the fridge, why don't you pour us a glass? Or maybe make coffee or both, he added wryly. Quinn went for the third option and made coffee as well as pouring them both a glass of juice, then found plates and silverware to set the table and finally found bread and started to make toast. That she could manage. By the time she made four slices of toast and buttered them, Jet was cutting the omelet, yeah, in half, sliding a portion onto each of the plates she'd set on the table. Omelets are good, don't get me wrong. Omelets are good, omelets are easy to do. They're also very easy to fuck up if you try to get a little bit more complicated with them. One of the things I really want to try when I'm in Japan is almond rice, except for in in Japan, almond rice is is like ketchup rice and an egg, and it's an omelet, a rice omelet. It's seen more as a kid's dish. It's what you give toddlers, it's what you give young kids. It's like in America giving them McDonald's. You give them omarrice there, even though they have McDonald's in Japan. So when I go to Japan, I want to try oman rice, but it's gonna be very interesting to have a big 44-year-old fucking bald guy trying omarrice in Japan. And so we'll see how that works out. How many more times can I say omal rice in this couple minutes span? That's one of the things I'm looking forward to. But yeah, omelets are good. I just would have expected something a little fancier, maybe. He didn't put any seasoning in it too. No, yeah, he didn't put any salt or pepper, did he? Oh, I think he put pepper in with the cheese originally. Or is that just the peppers, the vegetables? Why aren't you seasoning your omelets, Jet? Wow, Quinn murmured as she set the toast on the table and sat down. That smells good. I really wish I I guess you really can cook. Maybe you should try it before you make sure it's statements. Yeah, because he never fucking seasoned it. He didn't put any salt on it, he didn't put any pepper on it, he didn't put any well, I like Frank R Frank's red hot, but I'm also partial to Cholula and Tapatillo and Tabasco. And crystal's not too bad, but it's a little watery. Red hot, though, Frank's red hot is probably my best, but that's but he didn't put any of that on it. Jed said with amusement as he set the frying pan in the sink and quickly ran ro ran water into it. Uh I don't like it that he did that. Depending on the type of frying pan, that could really warp it. If it's a good solid, thick one, it's perfectly fine to do that. But if it's like a thinner one, which they're the resort they're at is probably a high expensive pan, high-end expensive pan. So they probably aren't gonna have to worry about warpage, but still running water under a hot pan, just leave it on the fucking stove and let it cool naturally. It's fine, unless you need the burner for something, and then you can, you know, set it over on like the cutting board or whatnot. It's not gonna burn through the cutting board. Quinn picked up her fork and knife and a moment later slid a piece of the omelet into her mouth, and then she groaned appreciatively. Yeah, Jess Jet asked with a grin, cutting into his own portion. Oh yeah, she sighed. It's the fucking Kool-Aid guy again. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh yeah. And he just burst through the fucking wall. Made me laugh every fucking time. I even have on my desk a little dog chew toy that's like rubber duck style consistency and about the same size. That's the Kool-Aid man. Because I saw it at the dollar store and thought, uh, hey, I fucking love the Kool-Aid man. She sighed with pleasure once she'd swallowed, and then arching an eyebrow at him, she added, Too much of your cooking and I won't have a bony ass anymore. That's not a problem, Gwen. Jet stilled and raised an apologetic face to hers. I didn't mean that. My head was just pounding and I was cranky. Besides, you know how nano's ensure that you're at your peak condition. I didn't know that, but that also makes sense because I totally fucking forgot that he said she had a bony ass when he woke up in the last chapter. Pete them isn't skeletal and bony, and it was actually the backs of your legs I was hitting. You were running your muscles your muscles extended hard when my head slammed into them. Your bum is actually really nice and soft and curvy if it purple in my hands when we were he cut himself off abruptly and turned his attention back to the omelet almost desperately. They were both silent for a moment, both eating and avoiding looking at each other, but then Quin couldn't say it any more stand it anymore and said, I know it was a shared dream, but I don't understand. Browning she took shook her head. When Jet lifted his head to meet her gaze, she struggled on. I don't know what was real and what wasn't. We were on the beach and I asked you to kiss me. That part was in the dream, wasn't it? Jet nodded, yes. Right, and you did kiss me, I mean, and then she hesitated, recalling his hands moving over her body, the excitement and the passion of it, the heat and eat and blurted out, and then we were on the sand and you ripped my blouse open and moved my bra aside and she broke off, her hands rising to cover one of her breasts rather than say he'd been suckling at it, and she was surprised to feel her nipple tingle under the leather jacket as her hand moved over it. Quinn was positive her nipples were erect. Turkey's done, I'm telling ya. Just as the memory of what they'd done in the dream was affecting her. Shaking her head, she hurried on saying, I opened my eyes and I was looking up through the branches of the pines we were under in reality, she admitted. Afterward my blasts had been ripped open, the buttons were all missing. When did the dream stop and how did it become reality? She saw Jet swallow and shift in his seat, and then he cleared his throat and said, I don't know. The last thing I recall before the dream was dragging you under the pine tree for cover. It was cold and you were wet and shivering, and I spooned you. Maybe rolled you over in the sleep while we were dreaming, and he shrugged helplessly. Maybe we started to kiss in reality while still asleep. I think in that if I remember correctly, in that chapter, it was the second that she got pressed into the sand, they were both awake. Or they were dreaming that they were both fuck you know, not fucking, but they're both making out and going heavy petting at that point, but they were actually doing it while they were in the sand because there was a big disconnect from you walking along the beach and then all of a sudden they're in the sand and the sand's cool and kind of moist, if I remember correctly. I'm not gonna go back and re fucking re listen to whatever the fuck I read. But I think that disconnect is where things started happening in the dream and in reality at the same time. Standing Quinn followed him with her plate. Oh. Jet licked his lips, his gaze dropping to her mouth and down lower to her hidden breast, then suddenly stood and carried his plate to the sink, mumbling. As far as I know, I didn't wake up until the dream ended and you suddenly pushed me away from it. Standing, Quinn followed him with her plate and said, I must have been awake before you then, before I woke up up a But if I woke up before you, why didn't you the dream end sooner for you? You must have been awake too without realizing it. Maybe Jet swallowed. No, that's not what it says. That's so weird though, because I read swallowed and it says maybe Jet aloud. And stippen when her arm brushed his as she set her plate in the sink. Quinn, honey, you're killing me here, he growled, turning the water on to her insta plates. I know you said you weren't ready for a life mate, and I'm trying to give you space, but I find you irresistible. Bringing this up to me has me hard as a bone, so unless you want to be ravished on the kitchen table, I suggest you they're gonna fuck in the kitchen. His words died abruptly when she clasped his arm and leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Quinn knew she wasn't being fair. She really wasn't ready for a life mate, but she found him irresistible too, and he wasn't the only one who'd been excited by their discussion. She wanted him, and the idea of being ravaged on the kitchen table excited the hell out of her, so she was relieved when Jack groaned in response and turned his head to claim her lips. Quinn opened her mouth at once to him, a moan sliding up from her throat when the tongue delved in to fill her, and then he turned fully, his arms were around her, his hands clutching and squeezing the dairy air he claimed fit into them perfectly. I hope for sanitation purposes they don't fuck in the kitchen. Because if you don't clean that properly, then you have your fuck juices everywhere, and that's just fucking gross because people need to prepare food there. Just go upstairs. There's fucking bedrooms upstairs, right next to the fucking stairs. When he lifted her by that hold and pressed her tightly against his groin, Quinn gasped and wriggled against him, her legs wrapping around his hips and her arms stinking around his neck as she tried to get closer still. Jet set her on a hard surface a moment later, but it was the counter, not the table, and suddenly his hands were everywhere. They're gonna fuck on the counter. Slice all the fuck out of that. She didn't notice his undoing. That's one part of his clerks too I absolutely fucking hate when they were talking about they fucked on the prep station and Rosario Dawson's vagina got stuck in the mayo. That grosses me the fuck out. I'm like, oh I don't no fuck no. It was so horrible at that point when I saw that. Yeah, I sure the donkey shit later on grossed me the fuck out too, but I thought it was more fucking funny than getting a coochie full of mayo. She didn't notice his undoing the zipper of his jacket, but she felt it she felt him push it off her shoulders and arched her back, offering her breast to him, but he didn't caress and squeeze them right away as she'd hoped. Quinn didn't understand why until she felt his hands at the back of her bra undoing the snaps. She shivered in anticipation as the lacy cloth loosened and fell away. When his warm rough hands closed over her excited nipples, kneading the plush of her small breast. Quinn gasped into his mouth and shifted closer to the countertop until his groin pressed against hers again. They both groaned, then the kiss briefly broken on the sounds as liquid heat poured through them. This sentence breaks my brain, not because it's just because the way it's written is so fucking weird. They both groaned then, the kiss break briefly broken on the sounds as liquid heat poured through them at the move. What? Jet leaned his forehead on hers, his hands almost ruffed on her breast and he growled, You're so fucking perfect. God, I love your body. I just want you. Quinn cried out and bucked on the countertop when one of her breasts was released, and that hand slid down and inside her pants to glide between her legs. Oh God, you're wet for me, he moaned with despair, and then kissed her violently as she began to cur her as he began to caress her. Quinn was kissing him back just as passionately when he tore his mouth away and rasped. You have to tell me what you want, Quinn. I don't want to push you into Ah, he gasped when her hand found him through his dress slacks and closed over his erection. I want you, she muttered against his mouth, her hand rubbing over the length of his hardness and added into the excitement a hundredfold. Please, Jet, she moaned. I want you inside me. I need oh God, she cried, her behind rising off the counter as one of his fingers slid inside of her and stayed there while his thumb ran circles around the nub of her enjoyment. This is more of that purple fucking prose. Her clitoris. He's thumbing her clitoris. The nub of her enjoyment. Yes, please, I oh God, just Quinn clutched his shoulders and shook her head frantically. She wanted him to make love to her. She wanted to feel him inside of her, but she knew that wasn't going to happen. There was already too much pleasure. They were too close, and then his finger slid out and thrust back in. Quinn couldn't hear a shout over her own cry as the pleasure exploded between them. Well, they both got off. That's the end of chapter seven. We're on chapter eight now. This is gonna be the probably the shortest chapter so far, or shortest episode so far. I mean, I'm not even at an hour in the recording yet. Which is fine. I don't mind having a short chapter. I did get through that one pretty quick. I didn't really stumble over and didn't go through very many tangents, which is okay. I've got a lot more to say. It's just I like to wait for things to be appropriate to bring them up on the tangent level. And then, you know, just Fly off the handle and go absolutely batshit crazy like I did with the polar bear vitamin shit and Bright of Jetfire and all that. Three more episodes until episode ten, and then I've been doing this a month and a half. By episode ten, hopefully the story will get a little bit better. I'm not seeing that happen though. So we are got into actual sex sex. Um they both came, but it's not penetrative and it's not blowjobs or any of that other shit. So we'll see what happens later on, but it'll be funny as fuck if someone comes walking in on them right then. Or if like one of the people saw them come in and then hid themselves in the fucking closet and we're watching them fuck each other. I don't know. Predictions for next episode, maybe, maybe not. I hope at some point we get to meet Abigail in the story, just so we can see how poorly she's written. She's like the one character that I find interesting, and she hasn't even fucking been around yet. Thank you for listening to Storytime with Uncle Beanbag episode seven. Dune in next week for episode eight.