Cohost writing prompt: @Making-up-Mech-Pilots — Mech Pilot with good hair
"Hey. Hey, Fleur. Hey. Wake up. Fleur."
Fleur yanks open the door, clutching her dressing gown around her and glaring. "I left the bar two hours ago," she snarls. "What."
Kenzi gives her a bright, lopsided grin. "I didn't!" she says. "Drank everyone under the table or past their bedtime! Except Hater."
"Oh god, I'm not helping you bury a body," Fleur says flatly.
"No no! It's cool! It's cool! You know she's fine when we're in the field and she's only ever weird when we're, you know, face to face. It's weird! I've noticed! It's weird! So I figured, I'm drunk, she's drunk, I'mma go over and say, 'Hey, Hater, how come you don't like me in person?'"
"This is why you needed to leave when I did," Fleur says, tying her gown off and throwing her shoulder against the doorframe with excessive aggression.
"She said I've got annoyingly perfect hair!" Kenzi says.
"She said what now."
"She said my hair's annoyingly perfect! And she made these," Kenzi mimes clawed hands. "And she said she always wants to mess it up. Then she said it's not like weird, it's not a sex thing, but it's hard to explain you want to scrunch someone's hair up without it sounding—"
"Uh-huh," Fleur says.
"Totally," Kenzi says, solemnly and slightly chiding, "totally not a sex thing. She said so."
"I could still be asleep," Fleur says, rubbing her eyes.
"So I said she could scrunch my hair! And she did! And we laughed about it!"
"I'm glad this time of morning is fun for one of us."
"Hater's got the most amazingly filthy laugh," Kenzi says.
"Definitely not a sex thing, though."
"No," Kenzi says owlishly. "I told you. Only."
"Uh-huh," Fleur says.
"I got halfway back to my cabin, and I just had this incredibly vivid. Picture in my head. Like what if she had her hands in my hair like that and she maybe pulled a little bit—"
"I do not need to hear this," Fleur says.
"So I need you to shoot me and put me in the trash maybe!" Kenzi says brightly. "So I can't make it weird tomorrow!"
"What makes you think you'll remember it," Fleur says. "You're wasted like a paper target on a missile training range."
"Oh! Yeah, maybe! Also I lost my keys."
"Pocket."
"No, I checked," Kenzi says, putting her hands theatrically in her pockets and immediately pulling her keys out. "Oh fuck! You're smart when I'm drunk. Thanks, Fleur!"
"If you ever ask me to shoot you at 4AM again, I'll fucking do it," Fleur tells her.