From Alicante to The Apartment, New York, Saturday

[seveninchmotto]

This morning, in her bed at her father's house in Alicante, Isabelle had woken up to feeling uncomfortable. It hadn't taken her long to realize why. Overnight, she'd become –– well, the wrong shape for pretty much everything she'd been wearing to sleep in. So, right, they were doing this again. She would've assumed Fandom's magic couldn't work through the wards around Idris, but apparently she'd thought wrong. And it'd be complicated to look like Alec here of all places.

Ugh.

So, she'd gotten out of bed with a groan, then gone to the closet to search for clothes that'd even remotely fit her. And that was when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

And immediately went in for a closer look because well hello. She did not look like Alec this time. And that changed everything.

So long story short: she sent a fire message to Flick (Had to go to NY, come if you can, because she'd previously told him she'd stay in Alicante this weekend) and then listen closely until she was sure her father wasn't in the house, before sneaking into his quarters and snagging an old set of gear to wear. Then she scribbled her father a little note as well, about how Jace had asked her to come back to the city.

Fast forward, and she was home in New York. Having far too much fun going through Flick's closet space and modeling things in front of the mirrors. And if some of the modeling was sans clothes, well, could you blame her? She deserved her fun, dammit.

And her phone was filling up with pictures.

Also once Flick would hopefully make it out of Idris and his phone would start working, he was going to find several photos on there as well. Maybe he'd enjoy an unknown but attractive young man's (clothed!) selfies coming from Isabelle's number? In fact, maybe he'd even put two and two together and note the Marks and how the backgrounds looked suspiciously like their bedroom in the city. He was a smart boy, he could figure it out.

[ooc: NFB, primarily for That Guy, but can be open for calls/texts as well!]

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[seveninchmotto]

"Did you?" she teased. "I had not noticed."

No, she had. She thought he should've received some sort of a medal for all the hard work he'd done in breaking down some walls.

[flickofthewrist]

"You didn't?" He tsk'ed her and sighed. "All my hard work for no recognition except a marriage."

[seveninchmotto]

"Yes, you must feel like you got the short end of the stick," she replied mock solemnly, giving his ankle a nudge under the table. "Nothing but a beautiful bride for your troubles."

A beat.

"Well, a handsome bride, at the moment."

[flickofthewrist]

"A bride who's more handsome than I am," he said and wound his leg around hers. "I'm kinda jealous here."

[seveninchmotto]

Immediately, Isabelle looked smug as hell. Preening.

"Well, you should be," she decided, before smirking and biting into her bread. She chewed, then licked crumbs off her lips. "I'm smoking hot."

[flickofthewrist]

"And super smug," he said, taking another few bites of the stew. It was spicy and then salty and he had to really prepare himself what the next bite held. It wasn't terrible, he just couldn't place it what it was.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle had already managed to down over half the stew on her plate. She'd had years of practice stomaching her own cooking, after all.

"It's hard not to be smug when you look like me," she retorted, shifting her leg against his. "If I wasn't so spectacularly pretty as a girl, I'd be jealous of me, too."

[flickofthewrist]

"Man, you keep saying things like that, I'm going to have to go get some sunglasses so I won't be blinded by your shiny ego," he said, laughing. "You are too much, baby."

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle smirked.

"I'm just enough, baby."

[flickofthewrist]

"No, you're too much," he argued, laughing. "Too much and too hot to handle."

[seveninchmotto]

"I thought you were telling me earlier that you'd be just fine handling me," she retorted, raising her eyebrows as she scraped the bottom of her bowl for the last of the stew. "Was that not right after all?"

[flickofthewrist]

"Sitting in your presence might have changed my mind," he said, snickering. "I'm having some second thoughts here, baby."

[seveninchmotto]

"Aww," Isabelle cooed – which sounded kind of strange from this mouth, but she could just roll with it. "Well, if you fel overwhelmed, I can always send you back off to Idris, and just have all the fun all by myself."

[flickofthewrist]

"But then, you wouldn't get what you wanted either," Flick pointed out. "You'd be lonely and cold and sad."

[seveninchmotto]

"Lonely, yes," Isabelle replied, before taking a moment to chew thoughtfully on her last piece of bread, gaze cast towards the ceiling. "Lonely and cold?"

She shrugged a shoulder.

[flickofthewrist]

"Yes, lonely and cold," he repeated, taking a few more bites of the stew. The more he ate, the better it got. "No me to warm you up."

[seveninchmotto]

"It doesn't feel that cold in here to me," Isabelle teased. "I doubt that'd change even if you left."

She obviously didn't want him to leave, and would probably tackle him if he tried to, but she couldn't resist the teasing.

[flickofthewrist]

"All the inflating of your ego I did and I can't get a little in return?" he asked, sighing and shaking his head. "I'm so misused."

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle hooked her leg around his a little more firmly. "If you tried to leave, I'd tackle you to the floor," she informed him, voicing that thought from earlier. "When I figured out what happened to me, this morning, my first thought was that I wanted to be here with you to enjoy this. You and no one else. Because you're the handsomest, cuddliest, and the dirtiest person I know."

She smirked.

"How's that?"

[flickofthewrist]

"Mmm." Flick smiled widely and nodded. "Much better. Much, much better. Your leg muscles are insane, fucking hell."

They were. Isabelle's typical leg muscles were amazing but this was amazing on a different level.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle's smirk widened into a grin. "I know," she said. "And I know you want to keep these muscles warm."

[flickofthewrist]

"I wanna do something to those muscles, that much is true," he said, finishing his food and sitting back.

[seveninchmotto]

"Oh yeah?" she asked. "And what, pray tell, do you want to do these muscles?"

She gave his leg another nudge while downing the rest of the water in her glass.

[flickofthewrist]

"Well, touch 'em, of course," Flick said lazily. "But, further than that, it's up to you. It's your body and it's up to you how far you wanna go."

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle smirked. "That'd be so sweet of you if I hadn't already been pretty clear about how far I want to go."

It was still sweet. She had an enormous amount of love for him not wanting to make her uncomfortable.