[ Well, now his interest is piqued. He suspects...actually, he's not sure what he suspects–
His fingers sweep soap bubbles down Clu's back and up once more, drawn inexorably to that disc and daring–so faintly!–to trace a circle inside it, the palm-sized space where his dock ought to be. Electricity tingles low in his gut, but it must be imagined, surely. ]
no subject
His fingers sweep soap bubbles down Clu's back and up once more, drawn inexorably to that disc and daring–so faintly!–to trace a circle inside it, the palm-sized space where his dock ought to be. Electricity tingles low in his gut, but it must be imagined, surely. ]
How? [ Very, very gently, ] Tell me about it?