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Heat-seeking

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"Your hands are cold."

"I'm sorry." Beverly pulls her hands back, smirking.

The cool hand from Kathryn's stomach and the one on her shoulder vanish. There's still something cold wrapped around her thigh and Kathryn sits up in shock. Usually she can count on her ability to count to three instead of two but Beverly was kissing her and she was distracted. Beverly starts to kiss her again, lips almost on hers and Kathryn jolts back.

"What?" Beverly's eyebrow raises. "My lips can't be that cold."

"Something's on my leg."

Beverly lifts both of her hands into the air and sits up, letting the sheet fall away from her nude body. "Not me."

Slipping from one side of the bed in such a hurry that she nearly ends up in Beverly's lap (not a bad place to be on a normal evening), Kathryn stares in horror as the green tendril of the prehensile plant retracts from the bed and settles in with the rest of the stems.

"It touched me." Kathryn rubs her thigh, hoping it's not green or something else ridiculous.

Beverly wraps her arms around Kathryn's shoulders and rests her head against her, watching the plant. "It's attracted to heat."

"There are other warm things in the room."

"You're the hottest."

Kathryn barely restrains her laughter. "The prehensile plant wants in on sex with us because I'm the hottest thing in the room."

"Well I can't blame it." Beverly runs her fingers through her hair and leaves the bed, circling the plant thoughtfully. Still naked, which interferes with all the plant-hating thoughts Kathryn's trying to have. "Maybe it's lonely."

Kathryn grabs the sheet and balls it up for a trip to the sofa. "Lonely?! I talk to it. I feed it. I let it pull my hair. What else does it want?"

Beverly pats one of the flowers and clucks her tongue soothingly at the plant. "She loves you. You just have to learn that some moments are private."

"It's prehensile, not sentient." Kathryn dances out of the way as a tentacle reaches for her ankle. "Sofa?"

"You know, we could move the plant and keep the bedroom." Beverly follows her into the living room, her hands tucked close to her chest beneath her arms.

Kathryn throws the sheet over the sofa and waves Beverly over. "It's feisty at night. If we move it in the morning you may not have to convince it to let go of my hair with a laser pruner."

Beverly smirks. "It does seem enamored with you."

"Just my hair."

Beverly settles down next to her, hands still hidden. "Your hair must be the right colour to provoke an instinctual reaction. It could be hunting behaviour."

"Hunting behaviour?" As much as she'd love to debate the psychology of their errant herbaceous friend, Kathryn has much better ideas of what to do with Beverly's mouth.

"If it' mating behaviour I'm going to have to research the biochemical signals for 'this admiral is taken, get your own.'"

Kathryn stops nuzzling Beverly's neck and sits up, grinning. "You'd fight the plant for me?"

"I'd threatened it viciously with the pruning shears, if it comes to that."

"And you think I'm hot."

"I do seem to recall that I mentioned that."

Kathryn kisses her, forgetting all about the plant, for a few seconds anyway. When they break, catching their breath, Kathryn holds Beverly's now warmer hand against her chest, toying with her fingers. "Tomorrow we move the plant."

"Absolutely." Beverly kisses her before she can respond. "Tomorrow."

If the plant missed them that night, it makes no sign of it as they banish it to a far corner in the morning. In fact, when the plant wraps a long tendril around Beverly's wrist before letting go, Kathryn wonders if the plant is conceding defeat. When Beverly's far enough away, she pats the plant on a leaf.

"Don't worry. We can still be friends."