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[ It was kind of sweet, wasn't it? Don't think she didn't notice.

Whatever, Kate's not serious enough or insecure enough to be offended by Johanna's skepticism. She rolls her eyes and lets her lip curl a little in silent nyah before going back to combing her hair normally. ]

Shanky sounds like the opposite of fancy. But otherwise I guess that sounds a lot like here. Speaking of, I was going to go do some more pirate hunting today but Jay's busy for a while. Want to come?

[SHUT UP]

It sounds a lot like a lot of places.

[Dry observation. Johanna drums her fingers on her cheek, managing to pull off the thoughtful-and-yet-still-bored look.]

Pirate hunting how. Like tracking them down? [But in case Kate revokes the offer, she drawls:] Probably. I'm not busy today.

[And clearly that fact makes her better in all things.]

[ :> ]

Yeah, just looking for him.

[ Kate sets the comb on the bureau before tipping forward until her hair falls, nearly to the floor, and she can shake fingers through it. ]

It'll probably be boring [ she admits while upside down ] it's just wandering through the halls forever searching and checking the surveillance we set up on the places we've done. Trying to see if there's any pattern to the weird problems in the lifts. But you should come if you want.

[Johanna taps her fingers against her cheek again, an idle roll of her fingers.]

It sounds boring.

[No 'probably'. But!]

What kind of surveillance do you have?

[ Like she said. Kate shrugs. ] Never going to find him if I don't keep at it.

We've got bugs and cameras in the bars, since that's where it looks like he is in the videos where you can see anything. We've been talking about something more...experimental, but Jay's still working out with Fitz whether it's even possible.

[Technology isn't Johanna's area of expertise, not in the least bit. Her impatience with Nuts and Volts pretty much covers her level of patience with technology itself, which is best summed up in a single word: nonexistent.

But she can appreciate traps, and she can appreciate the thought of catching one of these assholes. That part gets her to smile.]

Experimental like what.

[Don't ask her to join a department, but don't ever say she's not interested in cooperative activities. She's just very selective.]

[ Johanna sets a nice low bar that Kate makes it over easily, but in reality it's not her area of expertise either. So if it sounds like she's dumbing this down for her audience, she isn't; this is just as much of it as she really understands herself. ]

We're thinking he might be caught between worlds somehow, so we're wondering if there's a way to measure the energies produced during the jumps and compare with what's around normally to locate him. Since during the jump people are moved between worlds, so it ought to be the same type of energy. We think. Fitz will probably know better whether that's crazy or not.

[She listens... And then she starts studying her fingernails.]

Whatever.

[None of it means anything to her, and so she very quickly does not care.]

Let's just go and look for him. We can leave the rest of that up to Fitz. [Scornful, but not necessarily mean.]

[ And so off they go. Hours of fruitless searching later.... ]

Why would you even throw the axe then? They're almost within reach anyway, you could just chop them!

[ Kate makes a noise of disgust, but amused disgust, because critiquing terrible horror movies is apparently a thing she really enjoys. She's sprawled out across from the rigged-up screen in her room, good posture abandoned in favor of lounging back into her hoarded pillows. It's gotten still worse as she's tipped into Johanna as the movie's gone on. It was unintentional at first but then it turned out to be kind of nice, the casual warmth and contact of sitting so close together, so she just went with it, letting her weight tilt and press them lightly together.

By now she's let herself slide down so low that she's barely propped up enough to see the screen at all, and when she yawns her temple leans against shoulder. Fun new game: how long can she leave it there? If she were a betting woman her money'd be on Johanna objecting before she can fall asleep. ]

[The search was stupid. The movie? Stupider. But here Johanna is, slumped on Kate's bed, her chin practically resting on her chest. Kate's cheek is somewhere in the same region. It's a strange and warm contact. It shouldn't be. She's seen just about every inch of Kate's skin, but this is different. More intimate, somehow.

What a stupid thought, Johanna thinks, and rolls her eyes at herself.]

Because they're idiots. They're not even good at throwing axes. Did you see that? They threw them like they were-- tree branches, or something. Like he's going to trip on them.

[The killer does not trip on them. Onscreen, the teenagers all scream, and Johanna rolls her eyes.]

Idiots.

[And while Johanna can put up with this for a little while, she's now fast approaching maximum toleration. She'll have to shrug free, if only to reset. Kate gets five seconds more, to move her head on her own. Four seconds. Three...]

Going for the ankles is so stupid. If you have to throw them badly at least aim for center of mass. Oh look a dark hall, there couldn't possibly be anything waiting at the end like there was the last six times.

[ Kate does not move her head in time, but she's also easily dislodged by Johanna's shrug. She lets her head loll back the other way like she's barely noticed the shift, though really it's mildly disappointing, if not surprising. That sort of intimacy might be more for her and Johanna but mostly what she's thinking of is Teddy's arm around her shoulders in the booth at breakfast or Billy's feet in her lap while they watch a movie. Leaning into Noh so they can share headphones, him tapping out the rhythm on her knee.

She lets Johanna have her space back, tipping onto her side and curling up a little further, arm beneath her head keeping the screen just in view. ]

Total idiots.

Unless you're cutting off his feet at the ankles. That's how I'd have started.

[Which she says with a certain pride and relish. The thought is a deeply satisfying one, and a threat that she'd dearly like to make good on. Maybe on their disappearing pirate, if they ever track him down. Definitely on someone responsible for this whole bullshit mess.

The comfortable sharing of space is not something that Johanna is good at. Add that to the list. She's pretty much forgotten how, and she never really liked hugs to begin with. The easy duck in for a peck on the cheek, a hand on her shoulder, on her arm--on the small of her back, guiding her around--it's all got connotations so negative it makes her skin crawl. And then there was the torture. No set-up for success in casual intimacy.

And Kate doesn't bitch when she's dislodged--which is good. It means Johanna is quicker to get to that point of reset, as the prickling of her skin dies down to a feeling that's next to nothing.]

They're getting farther than the last six times. [Not that that's saying much; she conveys that by her tone. Idly, she reaches out to trap a strand of Kate's hair, and starts to twine it around her finger, her eyes still fixed on the screen.] Why didn't they take the axes with them if they were going to run? God, it's painful to watch people this stupid. Do people actually enjoy these movies?

Yeah, but you have aim. [ And these poor stupid teenagers have whatever the opposite of aim is. Kate glances at Johanna's hand but doesn't mind the idle toying with her hair. She's got so much of it, might as well be good for something. ]

Since they're still making them however far in the future this is, yes, people enjoy them. I like them sometimes as unintentional comedies. And teenagers like them because being scared's an excuse to hold hands with the person next to you. [ She makes a very fake noise of surprise and clutches at Johanna's arm in demonstration. ] Katrina Harrison got all four of her boyfriends in middle school that way.

[ She lets go of Johanna's arm, but slides a hand around her side instead, palm flat across her stomach, fingers curling to ruffle at the hem of her shirt like they might just slip under. ]

[Well. She does have aim, and she acknowledges the compliment (because it is a compliment) with a self-satisfied little smirk.]

Are you kidding? [So unimpressed with Katrina Harrison, but she doesn't actually shake off Kate's grip right away--just gives it a Look, like, really.] Just from grabbing their arms? She's got a really sexy grip, or those boyfriends were real morons.

[And so was Katrina. The weight of Kate's hand is new, but she permits it--with the mental caveat of for now, like always. Some people touch for the sake of touching, but Johanna, of course, is not one of them. But she can put up with it without any nasty questions (what the hell are you doing, or something very similar).]

Did you get any boys that way?

Middle school. [ Kate says it dryly, like that explains everything. And in her world it does, but maybe not so much in Johanna's. Sometimes she forgets to be unsure about the little things like that. ] Like twelve year olds, hand holding was a big deal. And yes, mostly morons.

[ Nearly everyone is more tactile than Johanna but Kate's never been particularly handsy or affectionate. But it's been a pretty good day and she's listing toward dozy and whatever, why not if it's nice. Her thumb catches at thin cotton again, bunches it up and she slips her hand under, fingers just a little cool. Skin on skin makes it foreplay, right? ]

No. Not my style.

[Middle school means absolutely nothing to Johanna. Which isn't surprisingly, really. There's a lot that Panem doesn't have, and usually, she just carries right over the differences, ignores them outright, and it always comes out fine. There's no use in looking stupid, except by calculated choices.

The tickle and cool press of Kate's fingertips makes the corner of Johanna's mouth twitch, an infinitesimal sign of enjoyment. The larger tell is that she doesn't shove Kate's hand away.]

I didn't think so. So how did you get the boys. In middle school.

[--in a very sarcastic rendition of Kate's voice, but also maybe a little telling: no Panemian middle schools. So what.]

[ Kate's turn to snort at that impression of her, and she dips a finger into Johanna's navel, a tickling rebuke. ]

I didn't have to do anything. I was pretty and popular, they came to me. [ She says it in her snobbiest voice, almost an impression of herself. Her hand smooths across Johanna's abdomen again, a quelling sort of caress as she shrugs a little. ]

Danny Trello kissed me backstage after our orchestra concert when I was twelve. I shoved him and he tripped over his tuba and everybody laughed. Nobody dared try again for a while until Brad Harper got me for Seven Minutes in Heaven at a birthday party.

[Her stomach caves a little at the press of Kate's finger. Being tickled is a weird and foreign feeling, and her mouth twists a little--but she doesn't punch Kate, as a reflex, and she doesn't pull away. It helps that Kate's given such a good answer.]

Oh my God. Good.

[Who doesn't like a little violence with their kisses, right? Johanna is obvious in her support.]

More people should get shoved during their first kiss. Then they'd be faster at figuring out how to be decent kissers. [And here's yet another thing she doesn't know, a colloquialism that Kate drops like it's commonplace. Seven Minutes in Heaven. For her, it probably is. For Panem, not so much. And this is actually a greater sign of Johanna's relatively good mood, because she asks:] What the hell is Seven Minutes in Heaven?

[Relatively good mood, remember. Still not sweet.]

It's a game. Very popular at middle school parties.

[ Kate knew the chance of Johanna understanding that reference was slim to none, she just wanted to gauge the level of interest before explaining, trying not to put too much strain on this fragile relatively-good-ness by boring her. Actually being asked gets a quick flash of a grin, out of sight, not quite against Johanna's shoulder. ]

Everybody sits in a circle and you spin a bottle and whoever it points at, you get locked in a closet with them for seven minutes. You're supposed to make out but mostly it's just awkward and cramped and the people on the other side of the door tease you.

[There's that middle school again, but she's starting to get it.]

That sounds-- [wait for it] --stupid. Do you get to break the bottle over their head if you don't want to make out with them?

And why is there a bottle anyways.

[and thank god she doesn't see or notice any hint of smiling or else this coziness would quickly come to an end. now explain these things to her please answer for modern society]

No, it's definitely stupid. It's a kids' game. [ Kate shrugs, and she's near enough for the motion to ruffle fabric on fabric. Her hand drifts up across Johanna's ribs and back in a slow, lazy circuit. ]

If you don't want to make out with them you can just refuse to go in the closet and get made fun of even more. Or go in the closet and just stomp on their foot if they try anything, or whatever. But I had kind of a crush on Brad Harper so I didn't mind. The bottle's just tradition, I guess. [ See, not modern society's fault. Old timey society's to blame. ]

How about just making out, if you want to.

[Like, duh, has no one thought of this. The sharpness in her tone is sort of exaggerated, and that's given away by the fact that she's still not pulled away from Kate, or the lazy gentle drag and push of her hand. Whatever, it's not worth it.]

Tell me about Brad Harper.

No way, that's not cool. What if you let him know you like him and he doesn't like you back? Then you're a joke. And I was nervous. I was just a kid.

[ Kate finally tips near enough for Johanna to feel the warmth of her stretched out almost against her back, and nuzzles at the nape of her neck. Before it gets too cuddly there's a press of her lips, too, all of it like her hand: gentle and lazy but not completely lacking in intent. ]

Brad was two years older than me. He was tall, and he played-- sports [ that she's not going to bother naming and explaining ] and was really cute. Broad shoulders and blue eyes. He was a terrible kisser but I didn't really know, I thought maybe I'd just imagined it wrong. We went out for a whole two weeks.

Don't let people make you a joke.

[Again, like: duh. So much of this is probably lost in translation, a disconnect between Kate's childhood and her own. Kissing games are pretty universal, even if they seem about a hundred years ago, a dim memory that she's put away with so many others.

It's easier, then, to just listen to Kate. Tall and blonde and blue-eyed, and a bad kisser. She smirks a little.]

And then what happened?

Kid. [ Kate repeats it like a mantra, presses it into the top of Johanna's shoulder. ] Middle school girls are vicious, and I didn't own an axe. [ The joke comes with a teasing press of her teeth through t-shirt sleeve. ]

Then I realized that Brad was also about as dumb as a box of rocks and half as interesting. So I told him I was too busy for a boyfriend. I mean I was, it was sort of true, but mostly it was that I was bored to tears and afraid he was going to somehow dislocate my tongue.

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