Dinner At Home For Jon and Amaya


Jon, Amaya

Date: October 8, 2010


A married couple with very busy work lives catch up with each other's escapades over dinner.

WARNING: Narrative discussion of sex included, though no actual depiction of such.

"Dinner At Home For Jon and Amaya"

Murakumo Apartments [Kumogakure]

Murakumo Apartments [Kumogakure]

A single large building is at the beginning of the long lines of two room one story homes. Inside of that building lives the managers of the apartments, and there is also a front desk and a price list. Those that are fortunate enough to afford a room, and lucky enough to find a spare bungalow can be pleased to see that each is well furnished and comfortable.
The insides of the one story creations have a kitchen type area, along with living quarters. Each is fully furbished, to be comfortable and provide a pleasant surroundings. There is public washrooms beside the administration building, along with showers.


It's sort of a funny thing, being a married couple when both of you have jobs that keep you very busy. It's a strain on the relationship, to be sure, certainly less than ideal that you can't spend time together regularly. But, since both of you are experiencing the circumstances that cause that separation, you both understand it, and there's less psychological tendency for one side to lay blame on the other for it. And when you do have time together, it's all the more precious to you.
Right now, Jon is in the kitchen, preparing some dinner for himself and Amaya. Even guys who don't have much interest in cooking will learn to make a decent dish if they have to live on their own for a while, and nothing says 'Welcome Home' like a well-cooked meal that you didn't have to lift a finger to make. The stir-fry hisses animatedly as Jon pushes it around the pan with a wooden spatula. "Whaddaya think?" Scruvo peers cautiously through the steam. "Needs more bugs." "They're not bugs, Scruvo, they're shrimp." "Wot, just 'cause they come from the ocean instead o' under a rock ya don't think they're bugs? They sure look like 'em. Tastes enough like 'em too if ya ask me." Jon gags slightly. "Do me a favor and don't mention that to Amaya-chan." -.-;

Amaya has just come back from a somewhat draining mission relatively recently. She has been told she has a week to recover, but she has been told that before. The best she can hope for is a few days before a 'situation' comes up, and more often she'll just have today and that's it. Maybe not even that, if there's an emergency. But she's going to make the most of the time she >does< have. That means getting clean, putting on clean clothes, and having dinner with her husband. Further, neither of them will be getting much sleep tonight if she has anything to say about it.
Maybe the excitement and enthusiasm of youth in regard to fun in bed has faded, but in its place as a greater appreciation for the various acts associated with such. It's no longer just about physical pleasure -- though there is that as well. Amaya sees it as a way to both release the tension of a life of danger and, more often than is really desired, the real possibility of not coming home, and also to reinforce the bond between them. She wants to know that she is still attractive to Jon, and still loved, and to show him she feels the same away about him.
She wants him to know that it's not just about sex for her. It's making love. If she just wanted sex she has had numerous opportunities while on missions in foreign lands to hook up with someone else with very little possibility of anyone ever finding out. But she hasn't done that. Because it's more important these days. It's the bond of love that ties them together that she wants to keep strong… And by holding out for the right moment, it just means they both enjoy it all the more.
On the other hand, sometimes they don't do anything. Sometimes, after particularly stressful missions, they just lie together and cuddle and try to forget about the pain the worlds heaps upon them. At moments like that, they are not man and woman. Instead, they are husband and wife. Jon and Amaya. And more like a single soul split between two bodies, only feeling really complete when they're together.
But tonight is not a night just for cuddling. As she takes her first real shower in about a week and a half, Amaya rinses the dirt out of her long white hair, and picks twigs out of her mane. She isn't going to be all grody and gross tonight -- not during dinner, and not afterwards when they catch up on what's been happening with each other. She looks down between her breasts at her hands momentarily after she has finished scrubbing the shampoo out of her hair. They look clean. But they don't FEEL clean.
"Too much blood…" she mutters under her breath, barely aware she's speaking. When the water turns cold, she snaps out of her thoughts of the many she has had to kill either in the line of duty or in defense of others. It never really gets easier. Maybe in the heat of the moment, sure. But afterwards… The faces don't leave her memory. But she has used up all the hot water so it's time to get out of the shower.
Shutting off the nozzle above her, Amaya climbs out and grabs a towel to begin drying her snow-white hair and the rest of her very fit, and yet shapely, body. 'No bad thoughts,' she tells herself in her head. 'Not tonight. Think positive!' When she smell of the cooking shrimp hits her nose upon opening the bathroom door and emerging into the bedroom, it becomes much easier to forget the bad. "Mmm… Seafood." She is tempted to just go out there as she is now, but instead dries off thoroughly and dresses in a medium-length blue skirt and a white t-shirt. A far cry from her younger days when she tried to make every outfit she wore as eye-catching as possible. But she doesn't need to 'hook' Jon anymore. She already has him. So it's fine to dress like a 'normal' wife now. Soon, she is headed for the kitchen, her strawberry-scented shampoo reminding her she is clean and hopefully safe to look at.

Jon hums softly to himself as he makes the finishing touches on the meal. He's certainly looking forward to the night's activities as well. To hold his beautiful wife in his arms and be as intimate with her as he possibly can…it's the highlight of his life. Not to mention, he's a guy. ;) But all that can wait for a little while longer. It's better on a full stomach, and with Scruvo chased out for the night.
Jon's ears perk slightly. Somehow, despite the hissing and the scent of the stir-fry, he sensed Amaya's approach. Maybe the end of the plumbing's breathy vibrations when Amaya turned off the shower tipped off his subconscious to be expecting her. Maybe the shifting of air currents told him she was there. Whatever the cause, he turns his head and smiles. "Hey Whiskers." Jon quickly serves the food onto two plates, then heads for the dining table, leaning over and giving Amaya a kiss on the way. "Have any good stories to tell?"

Amaya grins as she sees the seafood is indeed what she thought it was. Her sense of smell may not be any great shakes compared to one of Konohagakure's Inuzuka, but she can at least identify fish! "Hey, Jon-honey." The kiss is responded to with the same, and even as fleeting as the contact of her soft lips upon Jon's may be, she feels a thrill of emotional pleasure thrill through her body and spirit both. She can't wait to be held close and be free to kiss Jon at length and explore him with other kisses as though doing so were a brand new experience instead of one done many times before.
…And possibly check for scars or injuries she hasn't been told about. If Jon got himself hurt and didn't tell her, there'll be trouble! When he asks about stories, this light-hearted frame of mind crumbles around the edges slightly. Her previously bright smile fades somewhat. Then she forces herself back into a positive mood and says, "None I want to talk about during dinner. Business and pleasure rarely mix well in our profession. Though there was apparently some group claiming to be descended from El Chupacabra or something out there trying to blow up the bridge into Unraikyou. I didn't really pay attention to who they thought they were related to. Was kind of busy trying to stop them."
Following after Jon, she checks to see if silverware is already set out. It >should< be, but she wants to help somehow. If nothing else, she'll pull out Jon's chair for him before seating herself. She continues her story once she is sitting down. The shrimp probably has to cool somewhat after all. "So, these people -- Goat Kami or whatever they were supposed to be -- have loads and loads of highly volatile material called 'black powder'. Used to be used in cannons centuries or millennia ago, and is still in use for construction-type explosives today. Some use it for kunai cannons too. That sort of thing. So they have all these barrels of black powder, and they're all set up to blow up the bridge and probably themselves in the process. Why? No clue. 'To make a statement' about something or other. And we're all gathered around trying to hear what their demands are while also trying to disarm them and defuse the threat, and then one of them gets really agitated when I try to talk to him. Had a phobia of women or breasts or something like that."
She decides the shrimp is cool enough, and rapidly spears several with a fork before stuffing them in her mouth. She normally has better manners, but living off of field rations and soldier pills is no fun. She at least takes the time to chew and swallow first before continuing. "Mmmm… Delicious! Thanks for making this, Jon-honey! Anyway, so this goat sucking spirit's descendants are all shouting out different demands, and the guy with the fear of boobs can't take it anymore. And he tries to set off the explosives!" She pauses for dramatic effect. "Nothing happens. Whatever means of detonating the barrels they were using, it apparently doesn't work on black powder that has been rendered too moist by all the water in the Valley of Clouds and Lightning. Waterfalls, mist clouds, normal clouds, rain… All of that wetness got into the powder and their fires just fizzled out. So the goat guys stand there for a few seconds, and so did my team of operatives. Then chaos erupts when they try to flee. But with no more threat from the powder, we could just run right in and stop them."
She looks up from her food and smiles at Jon before chirping, "And we did. How about you? Anything interesting happen?" That was the most light-hearted story she could tell of her recent missions. The others had been uglier, so she is hoping that Jon continues to keep the mood light. She's hoping, but she is also worried he won't, just because not everything is happy for either of them on the job.

Jon grimaces slightly, sensing that his question didn't go as well as he'd hoped. When he said 'good stories', he meant to exclude any of the unpleasant memories that might've been gathered recently. Guess they can't really be consciously excluded without at least bringing them to mind briefly, though. Fortunately, Amaya does seem to have some humorous memories to focus on.
Jon gives Amaya a smile of thanks as she helps him into his place, then listens attentively to her story. Black powder…yeah, he's run into that a few times on police business. Nasty stuff, potentially more damaging than explosive tags, and much more volatile. It makes situations like the one Amaya's describing all the more dangerous because not even those who have the powder can always control it. Despite the light tone Amaya is using, and the obvious fact that she made it back okay, Jon feels a tenseness building in his shoulders, thinking about the knife's edge situation…
…and then the story reaches its anticlimactic yet amusing crux. X) Jon chuckles. Of course, should've expected that. "That's pretty crazy. I'll have to think for a minute to top that." Scruvo flutters in from the kitchen. "Well, if it's a good story y'want, I kin tell ya about th'time I--" "Scruvo…" Jon pushes over a small bowl of shrimp he'd set aside for just such a contingency. "Ooo, bu--ttered, um, shrimp, right?" c.c Scruvo sets about chowing down on the morsels.
Jon scratches his head. "Let's see…ah, here's one. A while ago I was investigating a series of burglaries, and y'know how the cocky ones like to leave some sort of calling card? Well, this guy was fond of taking his victim's left shoe. Just the left one, to annoy the victim with the uselessness of the remaining shoe. Apparently one night, he broke into a house that was a complete mess. Clothes strewn everywhere, nothing in its proper place, just a giant tangle of disorganized stuff. Well, the burglar decided pretty quick it wasn't worth the trouble to sift through all that junk to find valuables, but his pride--and maybe some kind of psychosis--wouldn't let him leave until he found a left shoe to take. So he started hunting, and pretty soon he found a right shoe, but no mate for it. So he kept looking, and he found another right shoe…and another…but no left shoes anywhere! He searched like crazy until it was almost dawn, then the owner of the house woke up and saw him. This guy happened to be a shinobi veteran, and it wasn't long before the burglar was trussed up and waiting for pickup by us. And y'know why the burglar had such rotten luck finding a left shoe?" Jon grins. "The vet had lost his left leg in the wars." ;)

Amaya listens to the story and grins through most of it, until the funny conclusion. Normally she'll chuckle a bit at amusing things, but for some reason the story strikes her as funny enough that she actually laughs. Like, full-blown laughter. It trails off faster than she might have hoped it would, but Amaya feels more relaxed. It felt good to laugh. It felt good to let the pain of tension and of horrors that can scar a human for life just leave her thoughts, and flow outwards, leaving her feeling fresh and renewed. She not only feels clean of body now, but also of spirit.
Having finished her dinner, she turns her attention on Scruvo and favors him with a lop-sided smile. "Hey, when you're done eating, can you let yourself out? You probably won't be able to sleep too well tonight here. You can come back when it quiets down, and I'll listen to your story in the morning during breakfast if you still feel like telling it." That's a pretty big concession she's making. Normally they just try to shut Scruvo up. But she feels good. She feels warm. She feels clean externally and internally. This is how things should be >all< the time.
But then she turns her attention on Jon and pushes her chair back slowly, turning in her chair and giving her husband a sultry look as she lifts her skirt enough to bare her smooth, powerful, but feminine legs, and leaves the hem just short of revealing anything indecent. Then she asks, "Care to guess what I may or may not be wearing under this skirt?" Then, a bit more breathily, she asks, "Or would you rather just find out?" She winks and drops her skirts down, rising from her chair and beginning to hum a little tune as she makes for the bedroom door. She glances over her shoulder to see if Jon is getting up as well. If he is, then she giggles and dashes into the bedroom. If not then she just walks as slowly and hip-swayingly as she can until he gets the idea and joins her.
No sleep tonight. Maybe Amaya is clean of body and spirit for now…
But she is clearly not so clean of mind. Then again, if she was, that would make this night much less fun, wouldn't it?

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