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Bella squirms, when she observes this thought going by. (Probably unintentionally, it is an awfully Bella squirm.)

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...If Trouble was piloting the autonomics, that could have gotten embarrassing. At least for Bella. Trouble does not really embarrass.

(He loves her so much.)
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Now she is wiggling his toes, experimentally, and taking notes, which are probably on that but could be on anything. There are more than twenty-six symbols in her personal cipher, for one thing, and at least eight of them seem to be allowed to form single-character words.

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He wonders, more or less idly, what she's writing about. More importantly, he wonders if she accurately predicted what effect wiggling his toes would have on him. (It's the obvious one.) (Science!)

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<Is there anything I could be doing in here that would not turn you on?> inquires Bella archly.

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There probably is, but he's not going to think about it, because that would be depressing and potentially traumatic. (And most of the depressing and potentially traumatic things would probably still turn him on.)

She is Bella, and she is being herself, and she is wrapped around his brain controlling his every move while he helplessly watches. Of course he's going to be turned on. He couldn't not. It's too perfect. And now he is thinking about the feeling of her wriggling into his ear again, mmm.
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<Shall I also omit the anaesthetic on my way out, now I know it's not automatic?>

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Well, if she wants to deliberately do something that's going to turn him on more, then yes. Absolutely. Also, he loves her.

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<Is it going to be awkward if I skip anaesthetizing you and then you're all worked up with your own autonomics while I demorph?>

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<I dunno, probably not? And it's not like I won't be even if you don't.>

He will definitely be all worked up as soon as he has his autonomics back. He might go to the bathroom, or go find Ethan or Robin, or he might just sit with it, but the being worked up part is going to happen.
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<Fair enough.>

Writing. Writing. <Okay, I think I'm out of preliminary notes. Now to think of something creative you can decline to help me with...>
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The first thing that flashes into his mind is that there is probably no way in hell she could accurately mimic how he talks. Oh, the bulk of his casual everyday conversation, maybe, but when he plays with sound and emphasis and vocabulary the way he did in their very first conversation - no. It's too him. She could produce an imitation, but it would not be the real thing.

For that matter, he's not sure she could move like he does, either. Muscle memory is on her side there, though, and it'd be harder to judge.
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She tries moving, first, sets down the pen, sprawls in the chair. Smiles his smile.

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It is a very Troublesome smile. And, confounding the results, in the back of his mind he is smiling along.

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She gets up, walks around the room, reaches out to touch a dangling bit of sheet from the top bunk and enjoy the texture in a way she would not normally do. <I don't know if I could fool Ethan, but he'd know the possibility.>

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Oh, she's pretty good. Trouble loves her. It's a whole different kind of lovely, to have her move him how he might move.

<I am actually one hundred percent certain you couldn't fool Ethan, but mostly because I'm pretty sure you'd deck him in under five minutes if you tried to talk to him by ourselves.>
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Bella inspects memories for sample violence-inducing conversational openers.

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When there is no one else around to care how they talk to each other, Ethan has been known to make some pretty vile sexual advances—in explicit and often degrading terms, with hints or more than hints that 'no' will not be considered an acceptable answer. Trouble thinks it's hilarious and doesn't mind at all. He suspects Bella would have a different reaction.

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<It's really very interesting how I can access your memories with as little delay as if they were mine - I don't have to know exactly what I'm looking for or how it's sorted, it's just there.>

She doesn't comment on whether she'd deck Ethan.
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Trouble is terribly curious. He doesn't think she would necessarily specifically deck him, but he is extremely confident that she wouldn't be able to laugh it off as casually as he does. The art of telling Ethan to go fuck a log if he's that hard up is its own kind of creativity. (Now does she see what he meant about so many things being like that?)

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<I'd be tempted to reuse a previous quip if he started acting like that to me under the impression that you were alone in here. I don't think my brand of snark is similar to yours and I don't seem to be coming up with anything you-style whatever I try.> She sits back down, all Trouble-sprawled.

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<Guess that's an answer to the creativity thing, huh?>

He likes it when she Trouble-sprawls. He likes it a lot. She's better at it than he expected. She's not him, but she's picking it up fast. He wouldn't swear to anyone else being able to tell, if she didn't slip up and do something Bellifluous.
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<Partially. I mean, I'd still have your voice, and if I didn't already know English I could get a handle on it just by inhabiting you and by the same token I think I could talk through your understanding of the language and with your accent instead of mine, which would go a long way - I wouldn't make any vocabulary mistakes or anything that way. It's the fine details of making things up de novo that'd be the problem. I bet Yeerks probably use previously rejected ideas for things to say or just reuse lines a lot...>

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<Yeah. And I mean, if your host didn't have a really distinctive way of talking, you could probably get by. I'm just inconvenient like that.>

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<Yep.> She writes some more, abandons sprawling in favor of a position more finely optimized for writing.

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