Smooth Criminal?

IC Time: Night/Early Morning
Location: Forks Forest / Port Angeles - Loft
Synopsis: Ramona meets with some allies to discuss her options, and later returns home to seal up loose ends.
Submitted by: Ramona

Forks - Rugged Ridge Trail: Outdoor Classroom

The trail ends and begins in a large, man-made clearing outside of a log cabin building. Underfoot, the ground is blanketed in freshly cut woodchips. Several low wooden benches have been setup here in three rows, all facing a small wooden stage in the front. The area is usually used for class field trips and animal presentations when it's not raining outside. There's a wood fence surrounding the classroom area, a small effort to keep the wildlife from inhabiting the area. The forest is still very thick in these parts, and thus the sky is not visible. The nature center is only a few feet away - during the day, the door is unlocked and welcoming for visitors.


It's a hair past two thirty in the morning — too early for the dew to have settled on the leaves of the trees and on the grass underfoot, but too late to hear anything at all move through the forest. Every animal and every predator is apparently sleeping. Except one or two, that is. One such predator, who looks very angelic indeed, is settled on one of the benches in the outdoor classroom. She lies back on the hard, splintering wood and holds up her most prized possession: a Blackberry, which glows bright blue for at least a mile into the woods. She sent texts, made calls to her most 'faithful' of friends, and now, Ramona merely awaits their arrival, looking relaxed, even bored.

Virginia is pissed. She is a city girl and the idea of driving out to the middle of the wilderness, then /hiking/ it out to the nature center is absolutely absurd. She bares her teeth, peering down at her mud-flecked heels. "This better be good." She grumbles.

Coming out from within the trees, Natalia quirks a brow as her eyes settle upon Ramona. "What can I do for you?" she inquires in that deceitfully polite voice of hers. "You want to turn another human?" the woman questions with a laugh before offering a nod and smile towards Virginia.

Anastasia wanders up from the direction of Forks, looking curious and faintly annoyed. "'Mona, you pick the /weirdest/ places for meetings." She smiles to Virginia and Natalia. "Hi, Ginny, Natalia! So good to see you."

Ramona sits up suddenly, her phone delicately placed in her pocket after she locks the keypad. The vampire's crimson eyes first go to Ginny's heels, her lips twisting into a smirk of sorts. "Why would you were those into the /woods?/ Must you always be in style? I mean, I'm all for looking bad ass and whatever, but girl, that's just dumb." A playful smile tugs at her lips as she rises to greet the other two, her hands hooking through the belt loop of her jeans. "Hey, Natalia, Stacy." Pause. "I need your help." It is a rare request from her; she is rarely humble enough to ask. "Spencer and I are in deep shit. I just have a tiny, little favor to ask of you all. Nothing that would endanger /you/, of course, my most trusted friends and allies." Ramona looks down demurely. "Ginny — my best friend. Natalia, my maker… I owe everything to you. And Stacy, my first newborn. You'll all help, right?" she croons.

"The road to beauty is not smooth," Virginia sneers at Ramona, baring her teeth, but the gesture lacks any true rancor. But Ramona's request is easily enough to surprise her into pulling her lips back over her teeth. "Mona, what happened?"

Natalia smiles. "Hello Anastasia, how are you?" she questions of the vampire she's grown fond of before she turns her head towards Ramona, quirking her brow in amusement. "And how are the two of you in deep shit?" she enquires, her amusement filling her voice. "What do you need help with?"

Stacy pauses long enough to hug Natalia, but Ramona's request stops her from any further greetings (besides, hugging Ginny is probably dangerous). "Good, really." She looks to Ramona, surprised. "You asked for /help/? From someone besides me? I'd better mark this on my calendar… but wait, you need help, right." She gives Ramona a thoughtful look. "What's the problem? Since it's you and all… I'm still making up my mind about Spence.

Ramona heaves a sigh. She might be acting out of character in asking for help, but she's not letting go of the drama. The blonde paces in the wood chips, making a trek. "I can't tell you. If I tell you, they could use it against me." Paranoid, much? She elaborates: "Here's what I can tell you: one of our kind, Nadia, thinks she knows something illegal that Spencer and I might have did." She waves a hand, "Of course we didn't do it. But anyway, she /supposedly/ kind of has a memory of my confession, and the Volturi asked her to help find out who /might/ have did this thing." It wouldn't be hard to put the pieces together, really, or understand her need for 'secrecy' if one knew the extent of the Volturi's power. "But there is /no/ evidence. I need an alibi. I need advice… anything." She comes to a stop in front of her maker, looking nothing short of lost.

Virginia frowns slightly, rubbing at her jaw line. "So find out who really /did/ do it, if you and Spencer didn't?" She suggests. Ginny might have suggested setting up a patsy, but the infamous abilities of the Volturi would stall /that/ in its tracks. She glances sidelong at Natalia and Stacy, gauging their reactions.

Natalia nods slightly. "Ginny seems to have the right of it, find out who did it. I can keep an eye on Nadia, if need be," she offers lightly. "The only way to clear you in the Volturi's eyes is to prove that it wasn't you or Spencer, so…" the woman shrugs a little, keeping an eye on the other Krinov's, Stacy doesn't worry her quite as much as the devious vampires she's known for a long time.

At the mention of the Volturi, Stacy shivers. "Brrrr… that's a good reason to worry. I'm wondering where Nadia could get a confession if you never made one… I don't remember ever running into her. I'll help however I can… I'm not sure /how/ I can, but I'll make every effort." She resists an impulse to hug Ramona, for the moment.

All very sensible solutions, really. Ramona, however, doesn't look convinced. In fact, the blonde gapes at them, and then closes her eyes, head wagging back and forth slowly. It would seem that another confession was going to be necessary. "Yeah, that would all work very well. I don't think you guys quite get it though. I was trying to walk on pins and needles — not literally, of course — to keep you guys out of it, but here's the thing. Maybe we kind of… /did/ do it, and maybe I kind of /did/ brag to Nadia about it. So, um, then what should I do?" Pause. "I was thinking at least one or two of you would give us an alibi or something. Unless you have a better idea?"

Virginia inhales slowly and closes her eyes. Yeah, she was afraid that was the case. "<censored>, Mona. Learn to keep your trap shut!" She waves a hand in some manner that might be considered an apology. "What actually happened? That might be a better place to start."

Natalia sighs and looks as though she's about to bang her head into the nearest tree, but she, apparently, decides not to. "We'll need to know what, exactly, you did so as to know best how to stop Nadia," she points out, taking on that annoying, motherly mannerism that she hates so much. "So what did you do?"

Stacy sighs, hugging her shoulders. "I was afraid of that… gods, 'Mona, but this is like old times." For a long moment she is silent, shivering a little (see, she can be dramatic, too!), then looks at Ramona, with a little nod at Ginny and Natalia's questions. "Some of them can see through lies… it makes me glad Inari got away from them, or you'd /really/ be in trouble. The jig would be up like… like the jig! What can you tell us about Nadia, and what happened?"

Ramona retreats back to the benches, plopping unceremoniously onto one of them in a straddle, her hands running down the wood grain idly. "If I tell you, you guys might be accessories to murder." Her tone is dark, ominous as she peers up through her 'lashes. There is a moment longer of her somber attitude before she breaks into a grin, though it’s not as wide as usual. "Spencer and I were in the woods, around here. We just got back from Italy, I wanted to make sure he knew how to hunt, knew how to fight. Things got blurry, exciting, and then… the two hikers were dead." Her tone is rather monotone as she recites the story: "We did away with all of the evidence, even the cars and the stuff in the motel room, and made up some notes about them eloping. I think the media might have bought it… so I kind of bragged to Nadia."

"And she ratted back to the Volturi that you broke their little rules." Virginia's eyes narrow, thinking. "So, have the hikers turn up someplace. Make a better paper trail, so it looks like they aren't dead? Did you keep their IDs, or credit cards or something?"

Natalia grins faintly, a challenge, she likes challenges. "If you've got their credit cards, we could have fun with that," the woman points out, a gleam of excitement in her eyes. Oh, she lives to piss of the Volturi, she does.

"Oh, wow… this could be hard," Stacy murmurs, looking almost comically thoughtful. "Credit cards… yeah, that could work. Though that could be hard to pull off if they've been canceled… need to find out about that. Or someone could point out that they could have been stolen off the bodies… by the killers… but it would be a start on a paper trail, and a good one. Does anyone know a good hacker who could find out if the cards are still active?" She begins to smile. There could be fun in this yet, investigation and all.

"Oh. Wow, I didn't think of that." Ramona rubs a hand through her short, messy hair. "Yes, I have the wallets… somewhere. I didn't want to burn them or sink them with the bodies, that would be dumb. So if I could start charging purchases places, it would look like they were still alive, right? I mean, I haven't seen anything in the media." She brightens considerably for a moment, only to frown. "But what about the confession? Do the Volturi even consider evidence like the humans do?"

Virginia considers that carefully. "That's why they need to turn up. If they aren't dead, they won't need a confession, right? They're the <censored> Volturi. They've got more important things to do than chase after every missing hiker that has run up a bill at the Drive-Thru Elvis chapel in Vegas, right?" For all of her blustering, Virginia fervently hopes this is the case. She's not so sure. "Tell this Nadia that you were bragging or exaggerating or something."

Natalia hmms quietly, listening. "Keep the credit cards. Find a way to make them appear, out of somewhere. Find their twins, or…" she's not that good at hiding stuff from the Volturi; she just let them chase her, try to catch her.

Ramona tilts her head. "Damn, Ginny. You're devious. Must have something to do with that whole hell hath no fury like a woman scorned thing," she murmurs, an impish gleam in her eye. She looks tensed to avoid a smack from the other woman — she isn't quite sure where Ginny is in the healing process of losing her mate. They hadn't exactly had a heart-to-heart yet. "And you're right, 'Talia. Though it sounds like a hell of a lot of work." Her lips pout. "Spencer is more trouble than he's worth. Brat. He won't even talk to me because I accidentally killed his turtle."

"So you two go to Vegas, to the Drive-Thru Elvis chapel and get married as Mr. and Mrs. Unlucky Hiker. Get a suite at the Venetian or something. Max out all the cards and buy two bus tickets to Chicago or something." Ginny smirks at Ramona's compliment. "Then buy him a new turtle or something."

Natalia snickers. "You killed your toys turtle?" she questions, before she draws her attention back to the subject. "Oh, that should be entertaining. Yes. Take the playmate out of town, and do what Ginny said. I swear, you've gotten far more devious, Virginia," she offers, laughing the whole while.

Ramona licks her lips. "Does it have to be Elvis?" she asks, her tone dark. "I hated Elvis. Other than that, I /like/ this idea, Ginny. I mean, you were just saying I should make it out to Vegas sometime. Sin City, right? Lots of buffets, shopping, and stages! We could even book a gig." Pause. "Oh… well, I guess that would defeat the purpose of going and Mr. and Mrs. human or whatever." She looks sheepish for a moment. "Okay. It's done. I'll do it." Her crimson eyes shift to Natalia. "Er, yeah. And I guess it's not so easily replaceable. Why, oh WHY did I not realize the kid's got a million mental issues which can now NOT be fixed with medication?!" A groan escapes the vampiress's lips before she pauses. "Okay. Issue solved. Now, Ginny. Tell us about how you've gotten over Donny…"

Virginia scowls, "<censored> Donny. I'm better off without him. He wanted to ditch us. All of us. I'm sure of it. He was just looking for an excuse." She snarls, breaking off a growl. "I ate ten humans that looked a little like him. It helped. A little. I don't know where he is, though."

Natalia shakes her head. "It doesn't have to be Elvis, Mona, just so long as there's record of the hikers actually getting married," she offers with a faint shrug before her gaze darts over towards Ginny, curious, of course. "He's gone, and he can stay that way for so long as he wants to be…" her words aren't bitter, of course, she's been the ditcher before.

Ramona bites her lip. "Um, Ginny? Wasn't it kind of the other way around? Like, I wanted to leave and then you… um, never mind." She clears her throat, avoiding the brunette's gaze for a moment. She didn't want to deal with Ginny when she was angry, so the subject change is welcome. "Okay. Then it'll just be a little white chapel without an Elvis priest. Any recommendations on the hotel?"

Virginia glares at Ramona. How dare she try to imply that Ginny's version of events is NOT the absolute, gospel truth! Revisionist history is a wonderful thing. So is a subject change. "Venetian's good. It's new. So's the one by the Luxor, can't think of the name. Football players like that, but if you go after anything but the practice squad, it attracts attention." Athletes… yummy…

Natalia laughs. "Just don't leave any traces, and you'll be good," she gives with a shake of her head as she now listens to the topic at hand. "Those are both good hotels, yes. And you can even do one of those drive-thru weddings, easy as can be, I'm sure. No one would really check to see much of anything."

Ramona avoids the glare easily, pacing on the woodchips again. "Venetian? Fine. That sounds good. And… yum! Football players." She picks up her phone and begins a text to Spencer, "I'm going to tell him I got a plan. In fact, I should probably go tell him before he <censored>s something up. He said he was going to find a solution, and now that we're going with this one… well, we can't mess anything up." She looks solemnly toward the two other vampires. "I owe you both one and I know. I'd give you hugs, but I don't… yeah. I'm going." She turns with a little smirk and runs off.

Virginia smirks, "Right. Now I remember why I don't change any humans. Corpses are easier to dispose of than trouble-making newborns." She checks her watch. "Yeah, me too. Nat, Stacy, good to see you both." She grins at Ramona, "I'll come with you to Vegas, if you want."

Natalia chuckles and nods. "Good luck with that, Ramona. I hope he hasn't found any other tasty humans to 'befriend'," is offered with a snicker as she heads back towards the abandoned little home thing. "I bet he'd cause you more problems if he found a tasty treat."

//Port Angeles - Spacious Loft

A door on the outside of the warehouse leads to a steep set of stairs that opens directly to this spacious loft, one of two such accommodations in the old building. It has a very open layout; there are no doors, though for privacy, the bedroom area is located around a corner. Since the loft was originally part of a warehouse, the ceiling is very high and rather industrial in appearance, and the walls are made of rough red brick. There has been some attempt to make the space homey, however: the floor is a cherry hardwood, polished to a shine, and two of the walls have been painted with a high gloss dark red paint.

The entry leads directly into the living room and kitchen combined, though the living area dominates the space. A black leather sectional curves around an abstract-looking red and gray rug, facing a monument-sized television and sound system. The coffee and end tables have been constructed of black lacquered wood - a neat stack of pop culture magazines along with a few unique sculptures and pieces of art are kept on top of them. Large many-paned windows are located on the same side of the wall as the stairs leading down to the street, but the inhabitants of the loft do not seem to be a fan of the view: elegant gray window treatments can be pulled down to block out light completely. The kitchen nook is of modest size and is nearly always completely spotless, if not a little dusty.

The room is not completely square; at the far end of the loft each wall turns a corner into a more private area. The larger area houses a bedroom with a plush bed adorned with silver bedding along with a deep closet and a vanity. There's usually at least one or two articles of clothing tossed on the floor. The area in the opposite corner appears to be an office and a music room, with a guitar and a bass held in their respective stands as well as a computer and a filing cabinet.

"And all I've seen from you is a little boy who doesn't seem to realize that the leverage I have over you is not reciprocated." Nadia murmurs, her eyes flashing with something distinctly as she appraises the new born. "I happened to witness your beloved maker disposing of the evidence in the bay. In the conversation that followed, she admitted to how…perfect, the circumstances were for you. How it was 'fate' that offered you such a perfect meal. Now, I suggest you stop pretending as though you have any power in this situation, other than what I am allowing you to possess. And I suggest you realize that I don't have to offer up /any/ information, and what I do is out of the kindness of my heart. The truth is, you cannot touch me. As it is, your sin is quite minimal; a shoddy, sloppy cover up. So don't make this more than it has to be, /dear/." She quirks her lips into a dry, humorless smile as she continues to stare down Spencer, unwilling to break contact before he will thanks to her stubbornness. She's sitting in one chair, while Spencer is on the sofa, in front of the TV. The atmosphere is tense and serious…which means it's perfect for Ramona to absolutely shatter.

Spencer chuckles. "I don't pretend to have control over anything. But don't think I can't touch you. I can. And I'd love to. I won't because it would waste time." He doesn't comment on Ramona for the moment before FINALLY he shrugs, "But I still don't see how you're doing much more than blowing out hot air. I have serious doubts that /anything/ you do is out of the kindness of your own heart. So say what you have to say, and carry your bitchy ass back to the three and tell them that I did it. I don't care."

The metallic sound of a car door slamming echoes from the rather empty parking lot outside, undoubtedly deafening to the vampires in the loft. Equally loud are the footsteps Ramona takes across the slick pavement, hard, quick strikes with dangerously high-heeled boots, followed by the jingle of keys before the door is thrown open. It takes but a moment for the scents to hit her, not to mention Nadia's familiar voice, wrought with self-satisfaction. It makes Ramona seethe, and then, climb the stairs that much faster. "Get. Off. My. Chair," she hisses, rounding the back of the brunette's chair, but not exactly following through with any sort of lingering threat with her presence: she wordlessly plops down next to Spencer, shooting him a meaningful glance. "Spencer, babe. We don't have to lie. We may have been somehow suckered into this, but we don't have to take responsibility." Ramona's gaze cuts to Nadia. "Ahem. Actually, so long as you're not touching my stuff, I'm glad you're here. Let me guess, you're still holding it over our heads that I confessed something to you?" Pause, "Because even if that /did/ happen, do you actually have proof anyone died? Last I heard the couple bought airline tickets."

"No. You can’t. Because if you do, your death - /actual/ death, in case you couldn't tell - would be imminent. And you can posture all you wish, pretend like you do not care the consequences of your actions, but I imagine, at the end of the day, you will." Nadia argues with self-assurance, chin lifted up slightly. It doesn't take very long for Nadia to notice Ramona's quick entrance, especially since the woman comes barreling towards her, hissing and all. The Russian does not hurry or worry herself; she inclines her head to the side, watching Ramona slowly, before arching her brows. "Oh? Excuse me, I was not aware." She offers, her tone mockingly polite as she climbs to her feet and brushes the fabric of her clothing, smoothing them out. "And if this is your story, fine. I hope it's the truth, at that. I hope the entire situation will find a way of blowing over." Except, she doesn't, since it would reflect negatively upon her person. "But, regardless, I see my welcome her, as tenuous as it ever was, has expired. Perhaps I should leave you to discuss things?"

It's what Nadia says, coupled with Ramona's ….entrance, as verbose as it is, that causes Spencer to move. Top his feet, and forward a step as he watches Nadia. "Don't put too much faith in those assumptions, Nadia. I might shock you." Spencer, unfortunately, as little to no actual comprehension of fear…mind heights. Something only Ramona is lucky enough to know. Spencer seems about to say more, though a glance back to Ramona causes him to hold his tongue, a clear hesitation before he clears his throat and turns back to the woman. "And she's right. You can't prove it. When it comes down to it, there's absolutely no reason to worry. I just get very defensive when someone makes Ramona unhappy." It's not…completely false. He does hate to hear her bitch about people.

Something Nadia says makes Ramona laugh — it sounds out of place considering the Russian woman's obvious threat on Spencer's un-life. Her eyes fix on the newborn's back fondly for a moment before Nadia's self-assured attitude (so forceful Ramona swears it might be tangible!) distracts her once more. "It's not a story, Nadia," she murmurs confidently, curling her legs underneath her on the leather couch, "It's the truth." Her shoulders give an easy shrug before the blonde wraps her arms loosely around her chest. "Awfully confusing, isn't it? You thought you knew one thing, but do you /really/ know? And do you /really/ want to go and tell the Volturi Spencer and I committed a 'crime' when all proof points otherwise? If you ask me, you're the one that's in danger. …Just sayin.’" Satisfied, she leaps up from the couch, unable to sit still, and apparently, rather impressed with whatever Spencer said, since she slides up behind him and tries to rest her chin on his shoulder.

Nadia resolves to merely shrug her shoulder when Spencer seems to overreact, looking unconcerned for her well being. Which is in jeopardy at the moment. She's already making her way back towards the door, her attention on the locks on the door. There is one final look she tosses the two of them, a look of quiet consideration that lacks the mocking undertones she usually throws them. "I wish you two the best of luck. Sincerely, I do. I respect your commitment to yourselves, you defiance of the Volturi reign. To be honest, I dislike them as well. But, you must understand the fact that I have my own wellbeing to look out for, and must do what is best for me. The Volturi have everything I could possibly wish for, and are offering all that and more to me. So unless you have an alternative suggestion, a plan of sorts, I think you realize what I must do."

Spencer chuckles as she watches her leave, a hand reaching to find Ramona's hand and gives it a brush of his fingers. What Nadia says, however does earn her a small relief in the glare he has set on her, watching each twitch and step as she leaves. Her words get a nod. A slow, thoughtful nod before he sighs. "We understand that. But I really hope…" He pauses at that. How does one word it? "I just hope you have something to prove your value than the memories in your head." Nope. Doesn't make sense, and it causes him to growl. "Make good decisions Nadia." Before for the moment, Spencer needs to violently shake his girlfriend.

The other woman's tone throws Ramona off for a moment, surprises her. Did her words actually work? The consideration leaves her with a private, tiny smile that she hides by turning her face away, gazing toward the television as if it had somehow distracted her. "You dislike them?" She tilts her head, "I find that hard to believe," the blonde adds slowly, though as she speaks her mind wraps around the issue, and as soon as the words are out, Nadia explains further. "Oh. You want to be like /them/?!" She affords a laugh, not hiding her grin this time, "Damn. Have fun with that. I don't care what you do… but your pass into the Volturi is /not/ going to be at our expense. Try, if you want. …Later." She turns to Spencer, unbeknownst of the soon to be shaking, and offering an excited smile.

"I am going to make the decision that is best for me regardless." Nadia confirms, offering the two of them a simple, undecorated nod before lifting her hands to the handle of the door and preparing to turn it. However, she is momentarily distracted by Ramona's bit. She can't even keep herself from rolling her eyes at this. "I expect I'll be seeing you around town, if only for a bit longer. Good night to you." And she prepares herself to leave, finally pushing open their door to excuse herself into the night.

Spencer doesn't so much as twitch until Nadia's scent has left the area. His body tense, and his hand on hers tight. The smile Ramona sends him is almost completely missed as his eyes remain locked on the door, and it should become very clear after a few moments as the deep, control habit of breathing returns that Spencer is doing every single therapeutic exercise he knows to keep his temper in check. What he /does/ eventually manage to do, that snaps him from this stare is speak. "At what point in time did bragging about that specific, very illegal act, seem like a good idea, Ramona?" Yes, his words are very flat and more than a little stressed as she speaks. "And…didn't it strike you as…I don't know, important to let me know Nadia was sticking her nose in our business?"

"At what point did /you/ turn into such an uptight bastard?" Ramona shoots back at him, not hiding any of the venom in her clipped tone. "God! You're always yelling at me and throwing your attitude around." Her troubled expression quickly morphs into a pout as she throws her frame onto the armchair, her legs dangling over the armrest. "I thought you would be more fun." She allows for a long pause before addressing his questions, which were actually very valid, despite her 'poor me, Spencer's mean' act.

"I dunno," Ramona's tone sobers. "She was being a tight ass bitch. I just wanted to prove how much more awesome I am than her, because she'd never do something like that. I don't regret it." She sits up suddenly. "Do you?" She narrows her eyes at him skeptically before continuing on a lighter note: "It's going to be fine. The humans still believe it, and all it would take for the Volturi to believe it as well would be to make a little paper trail. They aren't going to send one of their own out here to figure it out — obviously, if Nadia's helping out. We can fly…er, drive down to Vegas, rent a hotel room. Maybe even… get married."

If there were ever a way to completely discharge the rage building up in Spencer…that would most defiantly be it. Everything Ramona seems to say only adds fuel to the fire, his body tensing more, his 'breath' quickening and the grip on her hand tightening as she sits forward. It's up until that word. That M-word that Spencer appears to be preparing to shake Ramona senseless. That one word, however, completely removes the rage from him.

And the slight tint of remaining color.

"M…arried?" beat, and blink. It causes him to look back at her with a slight widening of his eyes. "Huh?" Because, hotel room, that's great. Marriage. That's…like 200 years away!

Ramona shoots Spencer a curious glance, at first, not even knowing what stops his anger from building. A dawn of understanding falls over her face after he stutters over the word, and she bites her lip. There is a pause as she changes her plan of action, her expression wiping clean. "Well, yeah. I'm a traditional kind of girl, Spencer," she offers, her tone saccharine, her eyes cast downward. "Don't you want me, baby?" Her hand flutters to her collarbone in a rather over-the-top mockery of upmost innocence, and she folds her legs underneath her on the chair.

Spencer isn't stupid! And if not for her sudden shift in personality he might have fell for it. Instead, the mockery of innocence causes him to set his jaw before he sighs and…nods. "Yes, I think it's a good idea. And I think we need to get to it pretty quick, before Nadia has time to start communications again. How long before you can be ready to leave? We need to be married and back here before they have time to notice we're gone." They, being Nadia. And, as if to concentrate the need into action he moves forward, his hands bracing his weight on the arms of the chair as he moves closer, "Of course I want you," he admits at that, leaning to sweep a kiss along her cheek and against her ear, "I love you."

Fortunately for Ramona. Spencer is actually just an asshole.

The response was not what Ramona was looking for, though this time, she's not quite so visibly surprised. At least, at first. Light laughter escapes her lips as she leans forward on the edge of the chair, her expression not hiding her delight. Acting was fun! "Um, right away… All I need is you," she murmurs in response, though it's rather tongue-in-cheek. She pauses for a moment and quirks a brow, just about ready to collapse into laughter at the whole idea of any sort of domestic life between the two of them when Spencer comes closer… looking at her /weirdly/. "…W-what?" Ramona looks like she was just told her bass broke, the world hated her, and she was going to die for good. It's an expression of utter devastation mixed only with a hint of blind confusion. She gives the newborn a hard shove backward and stands up to brush past him. "You've /got/ to be kidding me. Get the <censored> out! Now!" She's yelling, and pointing at the door. "I knew this would happen! I'm too good to be true!"

Spencer is shoved easily. In fact, the loose-limbed stumble back is one of someone expecting an attack…and being more than prepared to take it. Unfortunately, her extreme overreaction to his words summons up a noise that is seldom heard from the Swan boy. Laughter. Hard, unbroken and relentless laughter. And the more she bellows, the harder he continues. It brings him to the couch and face first into a pillow, an attempt to hide the humor that his response seems to have stirred in her.

The blonde is about to stomp over to all but push Spencer out of the loft, but his laughter stops her in his tracks. Was it some kind of strange coping mechanism? "You —!" It comes to her at once. If she had blood, she'd be red in the face with embarrassment and anger, but instead, Ramona's just left with her mouth hanging open and contempt in her eyes. "<censored> off, Spencer," she says after a moment, sinking into the opposite chair and staring despondently ahead. Maybe her overactive emotions are just /tired/ from the events of the evening. "Your stupidity started /all/ of this anyway. Of course I didn't mean WE'D get married. I meant we'd PAY for a wedding with the dead guy's credit card. They were supposed to elope after all, right? Then we'd just shove some drunk and high people into the wedding and it'd all be set." Annoyed at his amusement after a moment, she rolls her eyes and heads for the bedroom. Sleep isn't possible, but she could pretend, maybe. "I really hate you, you know."

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