* * * * * * * * * *
Earlier that day, while they were both sitting around drinking tea and reading, Amy had looked at Mae over her mug and remarked, “I’m a hitty mood today.” To which Mae had responded by grinning and bouncing eagerly in her seat.
“You’re not cowering,” lamented Amy. “What’s the matter, am I not intimidating enough?”
So Mae dutifully cowered: “oh no please don’t hit me that would be absolutely terrible can you use that new purple flogger I really like that purple flogger oh no heaven forbid.” And Amy had choked on her tea and given Mae an affectionate kiss on the forehead, and they had both returned to their books, both slightly and pleasantly distracted imagining what might happen later that day.
* * * * * * * * * *
That afternoon, Mae was curled up on the couch with the same book and another cup of tea, increasingly distracted. She kept glancing up from her book, at Amy, waiting for the moment of decision, the moment when the dynamics shifted around just a bit and Amy’s voice acquired that touch of evil and anything she said made Mae a little weak in the knees. When Amy stood up from her computer and went to the bedroom, Mae was pretty sure she knew why, and tried in vain to return to her book, but her nerves were already thrumming with excitement.
Amy returned to the living room, propped her hands on her hips, and fixed Mae with a reproachful stare. She coughed pointedly, and Mae looked up at her from over her now-upside-down book. “Can I help you?” she asked.
“Mae,” began Amy slowly, “have you seen my purple flogger?”
“Nooooope,” said Mae with an exaggerated shrug, and put her book over her face.
Amy snorted, came over, removed the book, looked Mae in the eye. “Mae, did you do something with my flogger?”
“Nooooope,” said Mae again. This time, she shook her head vigorously for good measure.
“Because you know,” continued Amy, “if you had done something with that flogger when you knew I wanted to hit you with it, then whenever I found it I would probably have to hit you even harder. You know that, right?”
Mae widened her eyes. “Really? That is fascinating, and a thing I had not known before.”
Amy grinned. “So did you do something with my flogger?”
“Mayyyybe?”
Amy threaded her fingers through Mae’s hair, and Mae gasped just a little. “So Mae…” Amy brought her face very close. “Where’s the flogger?”
Mae made her eyes as wide and innocent as she could. “W-what flogger?”
Laughing, Amy cocked an eyebrow. “Dearest, do we need to do this the hard way?”
“Maybe?” Mae blinked up at her, not play-acting this time. “What’s the hard way?”
“The one where you refuse to tell me and I interrogate you and you resist and resist until you finally give in to my diabolical wiles and tell me everything.” Amy released Mae’s hair and snuggled up beside her on the couch. “Does that sound like fun?”
