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So," Ray said, "this is a little bit awkward."
Sara was scowling at the heart-shaped bed. "When they said they only had one room left, this was not what I was picturing."
The headboard was made of red leather, and it looked... sticky. Ray winced. "I can take the floor."
"Don't be stupid," Sara grumbled. "I won't bite." She was already heading towards it, throwing her bag on the floor and stripping off her jacket. Classic Sara Lance: one moment of discomfort, a shrug, and then a head-first dive into unknown waters.
"It's not you I'm worried about," Ray said. He inched closer, clutching his own bag strap. "It's the fact that that bedding looks very difficult to clean. I don't think faux fur is supposed to be crunchy?"
Sara grabbed the very edge of the pink faux fur bedspread and tossed it towards the window. "There. Fit for a king! Come on, get changed and go brush your teeth, Palmer. We need our sleep. Gotta be in tip-top shape for tomorrow."
Heaving a sigh, Ray followed her lead and took off his jeans and button-down shirt. "You'd better not kick," he warned as he headed towards the bathroom.
"Me? I would never," Sara said, as if butter not only wouldn't melt in her mouth, but would in fact freeze.
*
"Ray! Whoa! Did you get hurt in combat?" Nate asked, frowning, as Ray limped after Sara onto the bridge.
"Worse," Ray groaned. "Someone kicks in bed. I'm not naming names, but... rhymes with Bara Bance."
"All deals are off when one party is a blanket-stealer!" Sara sing-songed. "Now get over here, I wanna see if our fix worked. Gideon?"
Glaring, Ray hobbled after her.