"babe, i lived in a glorified shed." most days, they were lucky they had electricity or running water. wasn't until a couple years after parker was old enough to read and understand the bills on the table that she could figure out how to pay 'em and even then, squirreling the cash away to do so was a bitch and a half. 

parker stretches out her arms. fingertip to fingertip, they touch the walls, and she says, "becky, please. we told you we have the money. can the next one not be poopy garbage?"

maisey's panting by the time they've gotten there. it's a couple neighborhoods away, nestled on a fairly busy streetcorner, but there's a cafe around the corner that sells some boss ass donuts parker loves. a modest juliet balcony overlooks a small slice of backyard and the interior is definitely homier.

"mmm, close 'nough to your la-work. place. the workplace. where you work. look, nomes, the fridge has two doors."

Naomi Sato

☉

parker doesn't mind the fact that becky doesn't seem to give two shits about her input. it'll be nice, pretty womaning her when the time is right. nomi's putting a good chunk of change into the place, but parker's insisted a lot of it be hers. she's always wanted a house. 

always thought it was a pipe dream too. 

it has character to it. someone who cares about aesthetics lived here, for sure. the paint on the walls is a little scuffed; some of the plaster is worn down in places. but parker squeezes her way into any small crawl spaces to check for water damage or shoddy craftsmanship. 

"yeah, for cooking," parker says, every bit of it dripping with sarcasm, complete with a brow waggle. neither of them partake in the Devil's Lettuce, but it's fun to see becky look a little uncomfortable.

parker tromps up the stairs and then pokes her head back over the open air walkway. "becky, can ya watch maisey? haaates stairs and nomes, come look at this bathtub," she says, fiending by the door, waiting to snap her hand out to snatch nomi by the waist and yank her close. 

Naomi Sato

☉

it's not fair that nomi knows her well enough to expect the way she snatches at her waist, because now parker's the one letting out a surprised and turned on mmmm when nomes immediately tousles up her hair. she drags her close, one hand dropping possessively to her ass, but before they can show becky what it means to really make love, nomi finds her sense. 

parker nuzzles affectionately at the side of her neck, planting kisses, and saying, "i wanna live here with you too. you 'n maisey 'n hell even alphabet soup can come too. i'm sure they'd love it."

maybe she can teach them how to play fetch in the backyard. wouldn't that be something. 

there are things about slateport she's going to miss. her routine, for one thing, but hell that's been screwed since the day she met nomi. that's just it, isn't it? everything's gotten all turned upside down since she had bodyguard duty for this drop-dead gorgeous super genius. 

once, that would have frightened her. now she wouldn't have it any other way. 

"'kay, now let's go tell becky we're gonna take it at asking price 'cause we fuckin' can and then tell her she's invited over for dinner 'cause i bet ya that shit husband of hers don't cook."

Naomi Sato

☉

public decency has never been parker's forte and as close to her neck as she is, nomi's heartbeat under her hands, still skipping errantly, laughing like she does - it very nearly makes her shove her hands unabashedly up nomi's plaid skirt. 

she doesn't, though, because the woman slips out of her grasp somehow and totters over to the railing to declare that they'll take it. 

"okay," she calls back up, a couple of beats later, sounding tired and also like maybe she'll only believe it when she sees it.

parker joins nomi on the landing, grabbing hands around her waist, and trails her tongue around her neck as she passes, monkeying by before nomi can get another word in edgewise. 

"good job, becky," she yells - "ya sold us!"

Naomi Sato

☉