MCA #3, Saturday Morning

[uncertain_dume]

Little known fact about Kanan Jarrus: His idea of 'getting ready for bed' generally involved peeling his way out of his shirt and just collapsing for the night. This hadn't actually changed any since Hera had moved in, either. Last night, Kanan had done his usual evening routine, which was somewhat shorter than it used to be now that he showered in the mornings in order to avoid being punted out of the bed by a Twi'lek with a mean kick and an aversion to wet hair, and that had been that.

Other little known fact about Kanan Jarrus: he'd gotten kind of used to sharing a bed with a somewhat petite lady who could still kick most people's asses ten ways to Coruscant. So when morning started to roll around, it didn't take much for him to at least become dimly aware that something was amiss. And until he could manage to scrape a few more brain cells together than his tired brain could muster, he was at least faintly certain that the something that was different was Hera.

...

Maybe if he pretended to be asleep a little longer, he could put off having to explain whatever the island had done to her for a little bit longer, too?

[OOC: For that petite Twi'lek lady that he totally platonically shares a bed with! Open for visitors once things like clothes have been sorted out, too.]

Comments

[uncertain_dume]

... Walking was going to be weird. Wasn't it?

"Alright, alright," Kanan sighed, and then slipped out of bed. "I can't see this lasting any less than a day. The island likes messing up people's weekends, for some reason."

He reached a hand down more or less reflexively in order to catch his pants before they could slip down over his hips and to the floor.

"Apparently, it didn't change our clothes to compensate," he observed.

[futurespacemom]

Hera sat up, shifting awkwardly to try and get her shirt comfortable, then gave in and took it off. "Apparently not."

Walking was going to be so weird. She was going to give it a try now, if she could avoid strangling her new parts in fabric. "Do you...want to borrow a bra or something?" He looked...close to her size.

[uncertain_dume]

"Uhhhh." Things Kanan had never imagined somebody would ask him. Today was going to be a long list of exactly that, wasn't it? "You figure it'll fit?"

He was now squinting down at his chest, trying to judge his size for himself. And then mentally comparing what he was looking at to what he remembered of Hera's chest, because of course he'd looked. A lot.

[futurespacemom]

Uh-huh. And he was getting a knowing smirk for that. Before Hera shrugged. "It might. If it's close, it'll be better than nothing, anyway. If you don't want to wear one, just...don't go running anywhere."

Then she was standing up and making an awkward sort of squawk as she adjusted her trousers and nearly fell over. Between the shoulders and everything, she felt so much more top-heavy now.

[uncertain_dume]

And Kanan wasn't even going to be subtle about his own knowing smirk, either.

"Maybe we should just swap out wardrobes until this wears off," he suggested. "Trust me, you're going to want something with a little bit of breathing room."

And he was going to want pants that weren't trying to fall down all the time.

[futurespacemom]

"Probably," Hera agreed. She looked over - and slightly down - at Kanan. "And I don't guess my usual headgear will fit, either." She was fiddling with one ear again. They were so weird and swirly! She sighed. "Caf first?"

[uncertain_dume]

"Caf first," Kanan agreed, though he did at least pause to pick up the shirt he'd casually tossed to the side before bed last night to pull it on. It was there, and Hera was right, they were kind of getting cold. "Probably a lot of caf."