The Many Tales of Blackjack: Rabbit Season

To his credit, Sergei gave it a valiant effort, doing dishes alongside Erin, even if Erin did them much faster than he ever could. But the Russian could be stubborn about those things, and it did at least mean that they reached the couch at the same time.

"I always was, angel." Sergei said, raising one arm to stroke Erin's neck, and maybe shift a bit under her massage. He turned the mask this way and that, looking at it oddly. It was, on the surface, a strange, reflective mask of a rabbit. But it came from Erin, though, so who knew what it did. "What is it?"

"It's a mask," Erin started unhelpfully, though more explanation was to be forthcoming. "It might hurt to put it on, so not tonight. It'll hide your face. Just subtly. It'll make you look like one of us, a changeling. Have you ever heard of a pooka?" she asked.

She caught his hand as it stroked her neck, and moved it to a more comfortable position. Taking it between her two hands, she began to stroke up and down his arm, then across his wrists, working out the job and computer related stress. Sergei didn't work at his computer all day, but he was still a certified geek. She moved up and started massaging the palm of his hand, smiling at him.

dex+medicine+blessing of perfection

"No, I haven't." Sergei said, turning the mask over and over in his hand, trying to figure out just how it would work. He ran his fingers along the inside of the mask, curved gently inward. It would fit like a glove, that much was certain.

"Mmmm." Sergei purred as Erin took his hand into her own. He closed his eyes and let the faerie take over. Still, melting into a puddle, tempting though it may be, would've been slightly impolite, and so Sergei made a valiant effort to keep the conversation going. "What's a pooka?"

"It's one of the fair folk. Dark-furred shape-shifters, that can look like a horse or a fox or a rabbit." She smiled at the last one. "They like to scare people, but they can be helpful too. If you treat 'em nice. So, you put the mask on, and you can be our pooka. It will let you shift your features to match other people you see, just a little. So you can disguise yourself and be safe."

"I want more than anything to keep you safe," she murmured, still massaging his hand. She removed one of her hands and began to rub his neck, running across his shoulders before starting to unbutton his shirt. "I worry about you so."

"I know you do, angel, and I love you for it." Sergei said, examining the mask in greater detail now with what few bones were still left in his body. He smiled, though Erin couldn't see it. "Though I am not so helpless as that."

"But then, I worry about you more than anything else, and it frightens me what you do sometimes." Sergei said, guiding Erin's hands down the buttons of his shirt. "But you never need my protection."

"I do," Erin said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Did all that practice with the buttons in his dreams make it easier in real life? Seemed so. "It's... how you say. Deterrence. You're there to protect me, so everyone knows not to try. If you ever went away from me I'd be besieged. So you'll have to stay close to me."

She tugged the shirt over his shoulders, sliding it off, and grinned at him. "Better?" she asked, taking him by the shoulders and tipping him so he slumped over on the couch.

Then she darted around with the massage oils she'd kept hidden in her bag, putting them to use and running her fingers up his back. "You never need my protection either, I guess," she dolefully admitted as she worked at his muscles. "You do need my care though. You don't eat enough. And you're always toooo tense. You don't know how to relax properly," she chided, in a bit of grade-A hypocrisy.

"But you keep me happy and sane and good, my beautiful little angel." Sergei said, nestling his head on his arms and looking off into the distance. It was difficult in this pose to look at Erin, which was really the only thing bad Sergei had to say about these massages. Maybe he'd install a mirror.

"Though you are a fine one to talk about tense." He teased, smiling openly. "One day, I shall get a jacuzzi and dunk you in it. Maybe I'll steal Sasha's."

"Is that good? It sounds like you'd boil me. I don't want to be boiled," Erin said tremulously, hoping he was just teasing. She didn't know if soggy and moth fuzz mixed, and took showers - when she could stand being wet. "...are they nice? I've never gone in one. I don't swim much, either. Should I get you one, Seryozha?" she asked, as it dawned on her that she probably could. She wondered if she could get him a car like Sasha's, too. Maybe in black...

"And how, my little leveret, are you going to steal a jacuzzi from Aleksander? Sneak in while he's not looking, and carry it away on your back?" Erin grinned, as she ran her knuckles along either side of his spine. She was genuinely curious to the answer, as there was a decent chance he actually had some clever scheme to pull it off.

"I'm not tense," she protested, anyway, despite the fact she tended to work nonstop until she collapsed. She didn't think she knew how to relax either, though it'd be silly to admit that now after chiding Sergei for it.

"They are very nice." Sergei said, mind swimming back to memories of luxury, those irregular times he could afford it. "They're warm and wonderful and so much fun. One of the few things I liked about the army was that they let you swim, in pools and in rivers and lakes. It's wonderful."

"And I." Sergei said sternly. Or at least he attempted to be stern, this probably wouldn't work given that he was slowly melting under Erin's firm touch. "Am going to kidnap you, steal Aleksander's jacuzzi, and dunk you in it. Because you are too tense. I just need to get him out of his house for a day and break in. Very simple. And if you're very nice, I'll even join you." He finished, grinning.

"What do I have to do to be very nice?" Erin asked, breathing warmly on his ear. She recalled what Caelan had mentioned about biting, and after shifting her eyes around a bunch, she tried an experimental bite on the side of his neck. Then she regretted it a bit because of the massage oil. Yuk.

Instead she draped a warm towel on his back, then set about turning him over so she could massage his chest. "And what do we do if he comes home early, hmm?" she teased. Without the shirt one could actually see the muscles on his rabbity frame, and she enjoyed running her fingers over them. The tattoos were likewise.

"You've probably done more things than I have..." Understatement. "Which was the most nice, what did you like the best?"