2019-05-26 - Grilling and Gryllidae

When he gets back it's his trailer that she's in, which would stand to reason since there is only one shiny ceiling that it could possibly have been that she was staring at, right? It's not that hard to tell someone is in his trailer, since the lights are on, and the television is probably audible from outside.

Inside is evidence of what exactly happens when a very bored individual is left unsupervised in other people's private space. Baylee is sitting on the couch, which is normal, a half finished bottle of whiskey on the coffee table, which is also probably normal. An ashtray that needs emptying is there, normal. What is not normal is the fact it is clear she has raided his closet, or copied it in her own right. A pair of bright pink cat ears are worn, pushing her hair back from her face, a pair of giant dark sunglasses are perched on her nose, a band t-shirt and an annoyingly bright Christmas themed button up over it. The socks, though, those might be hers, since they are relatively boring in comparison to everything else.

Aidan is not nearly the Earthly incarnation of Sherlock Holmes, but he's plenty bright enough to make the shiny ceiling connection. So it probably isn't a shock that it's his trailer he heads to, nor that there's a brief pause at the door that might be assessing the state of his lock, and might just be juggling the food to free a hand for letting himself in. The latter is definitely necessary, as he pushes in with a stack of three boxes and a bowl, precariously balancing a holder for four cups before transferring it to his other hand and pushing the door the rest of the way open with his leg, and then closed behind him with his foot.

He pauses for a beat when he sees her, then breaks into a grin. "Hey, you found those ears! I wondered where those went," he says, continuing on to carefully and rather awkwardly start unloading his burdens onto the coffee table. "I feel like maybe I should pretend to be mad so I can demand you take my clothes off, but honestly that's kinda 'cause it'd be win-win whichever way you interpreted that. You look cute though."

"Back of the closet, under this ugly brown bear coat." Baylee replies, with a laugh, unfolding herself from the couch to get to her feet, turning herself around in a little bit of a twirl for him. "I'm glad you like it....I got really bored, but your closet has been cleaned and reorganized now." Which may or may not actually be organized, though. She then steps towards him to slide her hands against his cheeks, pulling him in towards her for a kiss, "Hi...did you leave the diner lady anything?"

Not money. No. She speaks of the bounty that he has brought back with him, and the possible wasteland of things left in his wake. Curious about what he's brought she reaches for the boxes first, starting to open them to see what might be inside each of them, "So I decided that we should get a suggestion box, put it out front of the diner, and then put in suggestions for what kind of music they should play in there, especially to avoid the chants or whatever. Sounds tragic."

"Hey, nothing I own is ugly," Aidan blatantly lies, straightening back up and taking a moment to admire that twirl. Also blatantly. That's what twirls are for, right? "I dunno how organized it's gonna stay. But I guess that'd give you something to do next time you get bored here..."

He returns the kiss, sliding his arms around her waist, and only reluctantly lets go again so that she can investigate food. Well, mostly lets go. He keeps light hold of the shirts, lifting them a couple inches to investigate what she's wearing beneath them. He's pretty sure he doesn't have any shorts short enough to hide that way, even if they fit her. It makes for a faintly distracted, "Uh... wanting more? I might've left her half a cup of coffee."

Dropping the fabric, he reaches into his jacket pockets, which it's easier to see now are bulging a bit; a small can of frosting emerges from each, to be set on the table as well. One chocolate, one vanilla with rainbow confetti. Then a small baggie with a few cookies in it joins them, and the jacket's shed, tossed onto the recliner. The fox sweater gets pulled off to follow it, and he flops down onto the couch beside where she'd been sitting. "We could," he says, "but I kinda get the feeling she might take it as incentive on what to avoid."

There are no shorts. Probably because he just lacks the 70's style shorts that would be required for this effort. "Could make suggestions of what we dislike, and see if she plays or avoids....and go from there." Baylee points out as she reaches for the baggie of cookies, lifting them up to examine, frowning at them before she glances at him, "These are the cricket flour cookies, right?"

She still doesn't look quite like she knows what to do with that. But she carefully sets the bag back down before retaking her seat, legs crossing before she leans into his side, "If these things kill me, I'm just going to point out that you're not in my will yet...so you might want to avoid poisoning me just yet." It's spoken with a quick smile before she reaches for one of the containers, picking it up and settling it on her lap to start picking through it, her head settling on his shoulder.

Aidan does lack those shorts. Maybe if it gets hot this summer and the thrift store provides! Though really, it's possible that might be pushing it a little even for him, and there were skirts and lace shirts and stuff in there. Still... he does have pretty nice legs. "There aren't that many things I dislike, though," he says, "not really, anyway. I kinda like walking in there and not knowing what it's gonna be." A pause. "But if you hit it when she's out and the blonde waitress with the bedazzled apron's there, Bennie? She might be playing something less weird. She changed it to the Strokes when Gina left."

He counterleans into her side, tilting his head to rest it lightly against hers, and tugs the bowl over, and then the remaining box. The one she's chosen is a bit smaller, and proves to contain cornbread and a plastic spoon; he offers the larger box in trade. "Burger and fries, coffee, chocolate-raspberry milkshake," he tells her, "and they didn't poison me, so I think you'll probably survive 'em too. But, you know. Later." There's a little more careful balancing to open the bowl, which proves to contain chili, and avoid spilling it all over everything while still letting his leg press lightly against hers. "So what'd you do today, aside from practice lockpicking and redo my closet?"

"The same shit I do every day, really." Baylee replies, easily making the swap at his suggestion, starting to pick up the fries and shove them into her mouth, which might just prove how hungry she is that she spends a few moments wolfing down things. Fries, a few bites of the burger, it's all very important that she wolfs down this food, because after she gets done wolfing down part of it she pauses. she holds up one of the fries in offer towards him. "I made some calls, checked on the license situation and it should go through...the state had a few more questions based on my not being American....but, we worked it out."

There is another quick bite of the fries before she flips the box closed, moving to set it aside before she turn around towards him, her arms moving to curl her arms around his waist, careful to make sure that she isn't otherwise getting in the way of his eating that chili, "So what did you do today? Other than get me dinner, and convince me to try these cricket cookies. Work the festival again? Which...by the way." She frowns, momentarily pausing, "I hope I didn't fuck up your gig..."

She's not the only hungry one, so a brief silence falls as they both get into devouring a decent portion of what they've got. Aidan smiles at the fry and leans in to snap his teeth against it, just enough left unsevered that he can pull it the rest of the way into his mouth. "How long's it gonna be before you can do things?" he asks, presumably meaning 'PI things', though there's a very tiny pause after he hears his own sentence, and an only slightly larger smile.

He offers her a piece of the cornbread in return; chili is probably safe to scoop with it, if she wants. Well, safe from him. Who knows what peril it might have in itself. The care is clearly appreciated, since he's not yet inclined to stop eating, except long enough to press a kiss to her temple, and to talk. And the latter doesn't really necessitate stopping, per se. "Mn. 'sokay," he says, "I wore the tailcoat and carried the hat in the morning when I wasn't performing, only got a few looks like someone heard something." As opposed to like someone noticed he was wearing a tailcoat. "Cop came to ask me things about lunch, but I guess the gossip was a magician and a balloon guy having a fight? So I just told him nah, there was a little kerfuffle but I just helped break it up, you know how stories grow. And he gave me that looking for signs I was in a fight look, then accepted it and went away. So. All good!" Which is also to say, yes, he worked the festival again. "And I was thinking we should do some more exploring. There's got to be more places we didn't poke yet."

"Good." Baylee replies with a laugh, shaking her head, "You're clever, you know." She leans in to press another kiss against his jaw, then down to his neck before she simply curls herself in against his side. "I was thinking..."

It's never good when someone says that, is it? It's always something bad. Mostly, maybe.

But there she goes, saying that she's thinking about something, after having broken into his trailer, rearranging his clothes, possibly stealing some if she makes it out of here without getting undressed. It could be a million different things that she might have been thinking about, and the way she says the words is careful, slow. And she doesn't finish that thought. Not yet.

It beats 'we need to talk'. Doesn't particularly hurt to have it coming on the heels of compliments and kisses, either. Aidan glances down slightly at the assertion that he's clever, the smile small and pleased and embarrassed and lasting only about as long as a "Thanks," before that little trail distracts him. He might have had something more to say -- that sounded like the kind of thank you that probably had a 'but' creeping up somewhere behind it -- but before it has a chance to leap out and say boo, there's that trailing addition of hers.

His briefly-closed eyes open a crack, the glance sidelong from between his lashes. "...a dangerous pastime," he replies seriously. When in doubt, quote Disney movies. But he's listening, certainly, and there's a little shift in how he's holding the food. Of which he has, notably, paused in the eating.

"I promised you proper food, right?" Baylee slides a hand up against his hair, brushing the strands of it back from his face, then behind his ear, "See..." She trails off again, which really might be a problem if she keeps this up.

"So I was thinking that I'd take you somewhere, but somewhere nice. Very nice." There is a careful emphasis on the very nice part. "But I'm not entirely sure if going somewhere very nice is actually something that you'd want to do." She presses another kiss against his cheek, then she presses her forehead briefly against his temple before leaning back from him, "I figure that I owe you in a big way for the other day, and my part in the mess."

Aidan nods precisely enough to register agreement that indeed she did make that promise, and not an iota more. That might interfere with her hand. Probably unlikely he would've thought to hold her to the offer, but now she mentions it: right. Corndog theft! Which gets a hint of a smile back, even if he doesn't yet know where this is going.

And it really might be a problem if she keeps trailing off like that. There's been little hints of rising tension where she's curled against him, in the waiting times. Subtle, with the exception of one just before she gets to what she had in fact been thinking. That one's still small, but sudden and sharp, something suppressed, and comes with a flick of his gaze off in another direction, as if something there had suddenly caught his attention. She can likely feel some of it bleed out again when she gets the first sentence out. It's not total relaxation, but a good start, one that does a decent continue too when she touches her head to his. And it's a question that bears thought, judging by the momentary hesitation.

"Well, I mean. I'm not gonna let people--" He breaks off there, nose wrinkling. Nope. Let's not take the train of thought down that track. Instead, he leans to set what remains of the chili and cornbread (not much, frankly) onto the coffee table, and then settle back with her. "Would somewhere very nice even let me in?" he asks, sounding more curious about it than self-deprecating. "I'm..." He considers, and gives her a faintly sheepish look, "I'm not totally sure what it'd be. But, I mean, broadly speaking? It's not something I don't want to do. I'm pretty sure I've never done it." It's probably a fairly safe bet.

"Going to let people what?"

He might not have tried to go down that route, but there it is. Baylee asks anyways, and it almost derails her thoughts from the rest of things, but she very quickly pulls it right back around to the important bits. "Why wouldn't they?" She pulls away from him at that, a brow lifting upwards before she laughs, "Yeah, a very nice place would let you in, as long as there's not a posted dress code I can argue them into anything. Plus? I can throw around money and a title..."

Which makes her pause, "Although that might mean less here than it did back home. But the money still spends, and I've plenty of that to make them shut the fuck up." She slides her fingers into his hair again, then she drops her hand to instead curl her arm around his, "Really, though, it depends on how comfortable you might be in this. I wouldn't have you to be worried about what stuffed up wankers like that think."

He tried. And he still tries, actually, when she pushes on that. There's a flare of that anger from the day before, far smaller and better-contained but there, like a distant echo. "Gang up on you," Aidan says, and that echo gets a little stronger, "Bully you. Set you on fire." His jaw tightens, and for a moment that fire is in his eyes again before he shakes his head sharply, closing them and taking a breath. "That's not self-defense." A good deal quieter, that.

He glances off, briefly glaring at nothing, though possibly it's still 'the situation'. "Anyway. Sorry." One more breath, a little less obvious, and he seems more settled again. There's an awkward beat before he looks at her again, with a wry smile. "If there's a posted dress code, I might be able to find something that'd fit it. As long as I knew what it was." There's at least one or two suits she would've found in that closet, though nothing that really qualifies for 'very nice' per se. Not this decade, anyway. "And if not... I mostly don't worry about that. But I wouldn't want them to be dicks to you 'cause of me, or something." It doesn't sound wholly theoretical, and he shifts position a little to work his arm between her and the couch, and wrap it around her.

It doesn't require much effort on his part to get his arm between her and the couch because as soon as she realizes what he's doing she moves, letting him move his arm around her. "Hold on..." She reaches a hand up, catching his cheek to turn his face towards her, "Look, no one was bullying me. Yelling, maybe trying to break my nose...setting me on fire. But not bullying." It seems like a very strange line to draw in the sand. "But they did not play fair, yeah. Not sure what would have happened if you'd not been there, and it was..."

There she goes with that trailing off again, studying him for a moment before she smiles faintly, the expression slightly crooked, "I mean, watching you yell and get angry was hot." Which is not the point of the entire thing. She leans in to give him a quick kiss, "I'll figure out where we can go, and check if there is a dress code."

Oh, are they drawing strange lines now? "I didn't yell," Aidan says, not that he rejected the kiss that came along with that. Or didn't kiss her back. It's true as far as volume, though kinda tomayto tomahto on any really germane distinctions. "When you've got two people ganging up on one, using power they know they're stronger in to try and intimidate and dominate and all that shit? To me that counts. But we can go with not playin' fair if it bugs you, sure. Not that either. Either way they can go fuck themselves with their face-stabbing threats and their--"

He catches himself getting actively mad about it again, and stops, sighing, to rest his forehead against hers and close his eyes. "I know fire. I know how fire works, I know what fire does. How it feels. Both sides. It's not..." A pause. "You don't set someone on fire unless you want them to burn. Like you aren't supposed to point guns at people you don't want to kill. It's-- starting small doesn't mean it stays small. And fire's fast." It's quiet, and quite calm; very definitely calm, in a way the bit before certainly wasn't. He lifts his head, tipping it upward to kiss her forehead before he draws away enough to look at her again. "Meanwhile, I guess... less-nice dinner?"

"Less-nice dinner is nice, too." Baylee is quick to point out to him before she shifts from where she's been sitting, throwing her leg over his lap so that she can settle on it, facing him, "Dinner was very nice, and thank you for bringing it back with you."

Once she's settled into his lap she leans forward, giving him another kiss, this time it's slower than the earlier ones. Maybe it's some sort of quiet thank you for rescuing her from the evil bastards that wanted to burn her alive. Maybe it's the half-bottle of whiskey she'd put away earlier, or maybe it's that she's looking for the best way to distract him from the very unhappy conversation of that day in the park. But she's certainly focusing a whole lot of effort on that kiss when she catches his mouth again.

Aidan may have more been suggesting they continue to eat it than worrying about its niceness, exactly, but somehow that seems less than important in the face of Baylee climbing onto his lap. "Anytime," he replies, wrapping both arms around her waist as she settles in. That's all that really needs to be said, right?

If the kiss was meant as a distraction, it's a fairly effective one, even if he's entirely whiskey-free at this point. Presumably this means he can fairly and soberly appreciate the amount of effort being expended on the kiss, and demonstrate said appreciation by returning the favour. Which he does. Quite enthusiastically, really.

There is so much effort. So much. Like she might just be putting all the effort in that kiss, with a single-minded focus towards something that usually comes after the kissing. The ears are tugged off her head, as well as the sunglasses, both are then tossed towards the ground next to the couch. Then she breaks the kiss, her hands sliding into his hair, coming it back from his face, "Anytime, huh?"

A quick kiss is pressed against the tip of his nose before she rests her forehead against his, eyes closing, "Okay...I've been putting this off. But it really shouldn't be put off any longer, because the longer that I wait....the harder it's going to be to do it." She takes a deep breath, then holds it in before she starts to straighten up, giving him the best serious look she can give him, which is somewhat ruined by the fact that without the sunglasses on he can easily see that she's tipsy. Not drunk, yet. "Those cookies. Feed me your bugs."

"Mmhm," Aidan agrees, opening his eyes to watch her again once the kiss is broken; he wrinkles his nose at the kiss to it, but it's a fairly contented little movement. One of his hands has started sneaking up beneath the hem of the t-shirt, along the curve of her waist, but it pauses at the whole 'putting things off' bit. In that position, she can feel his forehead furrow where it touches hers, and the shift as he raises a brow. His hand doesn't retract, though it does slide to wrap his arm around her waist again, along with the other, instead of any other thoughts it might have harboured.

The questioning expression remains when she can actually see it, a little bit off-balance. Probably what she's going for, so well done! There's a moment around that held breath, as she straightens, that his eyes close and the expression goes oddly stubborn, arms tightening around her. They stay that way, even when his focus is back on her. It all makes for a small, sudden laugh when she gets to her demand, and he leans in to claim another kiss, a hand moving to the back of her neck to assist in this.

"I'm pretty sure that'd mean you getting out of my lap, though," he says, "and I'm kinda opposed to that. Also I don't have a knife." He looks consideringly at the table, and the frosting and baggie resting there. "Okay," he decides, "I have a plan." This plan apparently involves attempting to lean and stretch far enough to grab the items he wants while holding her in place with his other arm. It might be asking a little much of their flexibility. Or her tipsy balance. But it might work!

"Wait...knife?" Baylee doesn't seem to pick up on the whole putting frosting on the cookies thing that he's talking about, because she continues to look utterly clueless. Until she glances over her shoulder, and there are those containers of frosting. "Oh, right."

It all makes sense. When he leans forward she shifts, an arm sliding around his neck so that she doesn't go falling back off his lap when he starts to lean forward, and she shifts a bit to the side, trying to make it easier for him to reach for the baggie and frosting. "You never did say where you got these things from." While he's distracted trying to get the bug-cookies, and she's very helpfully shifted, she turns her attention back to him instead of what he's looking for, leaning in to close her teeth on his ear, nibbling at it. She's probably not meaning to be distracting. Maybe. After all, his ear is just right there, and it was very clear that before remembering that there was the bug situation that she had to attend to there was the kissing situation.

Aidan succeeds in not dropping her! Barely. Really barely, when the nibbles come into it. That was not part of the plan. He makes a small startled sound, and his arm tightens further -- partly to prevent it, and partly because, well, she's nibbling at his ear. And it is pretty distracting, thank you very much. ...no, really, thank you. There's a moment where he has to adjust the balance without moving any further, to avoid the pair of them tumbling into the table and wearing leftovers, but he manages it, and the awkward stretch necessary does end up winning them two cans of frosting, the spoon from his chili, and a baggie of cricket flour cookies. Yay?

"Mmn," he replies distractedly as he sits them back up, waiting until he's leaning back against the cushions again to answer, "I could claim I made them out of crickets myself, but I'm pretty sure you wouldn't believe I knew how to bake. Or eat them if you thought I did. So, the diner. Gina and the cook got bored and made them earlier, she said. Chocolate or confetti? Or both?"

"I'd believe you. I'd just question your sanity, and if bugs were a usual part of your diet." She really, really can't get behind this bug as goodies thing. But maybe she owes him, or is curious. Or it's one really big long bluff she's hoping he doesn't actually call. But considering he's about to call this, it might not be a bluff. Hopefully not a bluff.

"Chocolate." It takes a moment of thought, during which time she's gone back to his ear, giving it a nibble again before she scoots herself in closer to him. But really, she can only put off this cookie thing for a little while, and she reaches for the baggie of cookies that he drug off the coffee table, "Did you try any of these yet?"

Aidan nods. "I had one." And it was apparently acceptable enough to bring back the others. Or he wants her to suffer too. "It wasn't bad, just kinda dry, and there's a little bit of a different taste to them. But I figured, frosting might handle the dry part." And so he's popping open the chosen can, one-handed, before looking at it for a moment and reluctantly giving in to the fact that he will need both hands for this. But he does the first part by reaching around her with both arms and the frosting can to peel off the foil covering. He very classily licks the extra bit of chocolate off the former-inside of the foil, then sets that aside, nodding like he's just confirmed this is indeed chocolate frosting. Could've been in question, apparently. Or else he's checked it for poison. You're welcome!

"I still need to figure out how to make Breaded-Lamb-Shish-Onion-Rings," he remarks, while cooking is on his mind, and he uses the handle of the spoon to stir the frosting to a more spreadable consistency, trusting her to keep herself on his lap while his hands are full. Also to present a cookie he can baptize with his ersatz knife. "We need a grill. And. Maybe some kind of fryer, I guess?"

Luckily for him, she does manage to keep herself on his lap without much difficulty, and she's actually dug out one of those cookies as well. While he is busy with the frosting she is busy with sniffing at the cookie. "A grill and a fryer? Yeah...yeah, you would." She then glances towards the frosting, then the cookie before she holds it out towards him, waiting for him to put the frosting on the cookie.

"So you'll need to figure out the onion ring part, because those are going to be the trick....where the breaded, the lamb, and the onion itself part make sense. But the ring part..." She shakes her head, but then she leans in to press a quick kiss to his cheek, "I believe in you, baby. If anyone in this world can figure out the solution to the Breaded-Lamb-Shish-Onion-Rings, it'll be you. And when you do, we can market them and make millions."

Aidan frosts that cookie. He frosts that cookie good. Or heavily, anyway. The cookie itself smells about how it looks, rather than like, say, the cricket case in a pet store. This is a good thing. "Should get a grill anyhow," he murmurs, "and chairs... wanna go looking for Stuff with me soon?" He looks up from the cookie to her face, sticking the spoon handle back into the frosting and setting that aside, which frees his arms to get wrapped around her again. "I'm thinking, onion rings can be breaded too, right? So maybe we have to bread the lamb AND the onion. And then put them on skewers and... I dunno if grilling them would work or we have to fry them for the onion rings to be onion rings." A small pause. "We could maybe put them around the meat and then bread all of it." He thinks about this a moment. "If we found cylindrical onions. Oh, or tapered the meat. That sounds more doable."

"Could do something like.." Baylee considers this for a little bit, trying to think about exactly what might be the best way to do this, "I think that frying them is the only way to go, if you're going to go with the breading, at least." She nods a fraction, then leans in to press a kiss against his mouth, "I'd love to go buy Stuff with you soon."

There is a quick smile, then she looks at the cookie in her hand, frowning slowly at it. It's taking all she can manage to keep going forward with this, but then she does it. She does it for you, Aidan. She takes a bite of the cricket cookie, looking like this might be the hardest thing she's ever done.

Aidan leans in to meet the kiss, and settles back again, looking faintly hopeful (and maybe just a bit smitten) as she takes the bite. "We'll try frying," he agrees, as if he's ever fried anything except maybe an egg or his brain in his life, and watches her face to see what she thinks of the cookie.

It tastes okay, actually, even if you were to ignore the frosting, which tastes pretty good itself. Not amazing. Not terrible. It's clear why he decided the frosting was necessary, though, because it's crumblier than one might've guessed, a little bit mealy because cricket flour doesn't absorb things in the way normal flour does. The frosting likely does help keep it together, and might even take out a bit of the dryness. It doesn't really do a lot to get rid of the unique aftertaste, though it does make it more chocolatey. It's not necessarily a particularly bad aftertaste. It's just... weird.

There is a very not great look on her face as she chews, and swallows. "Okay...it could be worse." Which means that it could also be better. And one bite seems to be all she's going to be able to manage, because she's twisting around so that she can put the cookie down on the coffee table, brushing her hands together to try and dust them off. As soon as the crumbs are off her hands she turn back around to face him, a hand moving to wipe slowly at her mouth.

"So what sort of things are you wanting to buy?" Baylee wonders, brushing then at his shirt, making sure that he doesn't have any crumbs on him either, "But I like where your head is at when it comes to the shish thing. I've got an idea about that, though." She curls her arms around his neck, leaning in to rest her forehead against his, "There are pearl onions that you could use instead of the bigger onions, they'd be small and round. Not sure how they'd do fried, though."

Very-not-great-expression or not, Aidan still catches her hand quickly so he can try a bite of the frosting-ed version of the cookie before she sets it aside. He chews it thoughtfully. "It is better that way," he decides, and when she's turned back, he steals a very quick kiss before letting her get to all that dusting-off.

His arms tighten around her in a squeeze when she settles back in, and he gives a near-silent but clearly contented sigh as she speaks. Hugely more relaxed than before, which might make it a little startling when the frosting seems to start-- well, has to be falling over, that's all a can of frosting might manage there, right? and one of his hands whips away from her to catch it. He wedges it down between the cushion and back in the corner of the couch, about as far out as he can reach, without looking enough to turn his head. There is a quick sidelong glance, though, briefly annoyed, before it's done.

"Mmm." His hand settles in against her again; this time both of them push the back of the shirts up so his arms can wrap against skin. "Well, grill and chairs. Spraypaint. A radio maybe? Um... things to fry things in, I guess. A couple sharper knives. Maybe a rug or something?" He shrugs a little, and grins, tipping his head to bump noses, then returning to the forehead resting. "Kinda depends what we find. And, I dunno, we could try those, but would they count as rings? They'd be really tiny ones if we cut them that way. Though technically I guess you could thread them in a circle on something and that'd be an onion ring?"

"Get flexible metal thread the meat and the onions on it, bread and fry them, and tie it into a circle?" Baylee thinks about it for a little while, "But we can always experiment, see if we can't figure out what might work best or not, yeah?" She slides one hand up to his face, her thumb brushing slowly against his cheekbone before she leans in just a little further until she's able to press her mouth against his. It's not a slow kiss this time, but then again it's not a long, deep, or lingering kiss either. It's long enough to, hopefully, show just how much she is happy with the situation. Or maybe to share the chocolate-cricket cookie flavor that seems to be lingering in her mouth.

When she does break the kiss she then leans back, "Alright....so that is a whole lot of stuff that we need to get. Maybe we should make a list?"

Aidan laughs. "It would make them breaded-lamb-shish-onion rings," he allows, "I dunno if that's being clever or cheating. I guess it depends how fried pearl onions taste. So... Safeway, too. I can probably afford to test shit right now." 'cause Festival! Also he might shoplift a little. Maybe. It depends.

Either way, these considerations can definitely wait until chocolate-cricket-cookie flavour is reasonably well-shared, and his hands travel further up her back. When she pulls away, he looks confused for a beat before getting his thoughts back to the issue of Stuff. "Oh. I guess? Usually I just kinda... go." Because he's always stellar at Adulting. He considers a moment, then nods once. "We could make a list." And probably at least halfway ignore it.

Or leave the list at home.

Which might be what she usually does. She doesn't exactly look like she's much of a list maker or a planner.

"Yeah, we could just go, too." Baylee agrees with a nod, her hands sliding down against his chest, then she starts to pull his shirt upwards so that she can slide her hands beneath it, resting her hands against his sides before giving him another kiss, "But not tonight, right?" She has no idea how late any of the places he wants to go stay open, but she does know that she's pretty much not dressed for going outside. And she isn't exactly wanting to get up from his lap, either. "But later, a whole lot later....maybe afternoon. We can sleep in...maybe have breakfast. Or something else."

"Definitely not tonight." It's practically midnight, and Aidan's fairly sure the places he'd want to go aren't 24/7. But even if they were, he's got a hot, half-dressed woman he really likes in his lap right now, and frankly pretty much anything not requiring an ambulance or a firetruck can just hold its horses, thanks.