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"Mm!" A vicious grunt of satisfaction, half angry, half triumphant, and Everett danced a step back, bobbing lightly on his feet like a boxer, a glint shining intensely in his eyes, jaw still tight. "God, that felt good. ******** b***h."

Dorien let out a loose tch of breath, barely a laugh, but sounded unconcerned.

"What'd you expect?" he drawled calmly, lazily. "You deserved it. You good now, or you want to tantrum a little more?"

"You're a snot tonight," Everett returned scathingly, a sneer curling his parted lips in an almost smirk, dark eyes boring into his brother's, rocking back a step, just unsteady enough to be experiencing difficulty standing perfectly still. The effect, paired with the look on his face, was more aggressive than comical. "What, you on good behavior all of a sudden, now that we've got company? Trying to impress her? That's hilarious."

Dorien was not quite so easily provoked, though. He rolled his eyes lightly, and adjusted Peyton to lead her just by a shoulder, removing himself from the face-off by guiding her over towards the couch, to let her sit. He replied without looking at him.

"It's her first night, d**k. And it's your own fault she got you."

"Ohh haha, that's great. I can't wait to see what happens when she kicks you in the nuts. Hey! I'm not done with her."

"Sure you are. You're even now."

Dorien dropped down next to her on the couch, close, and draped an arm over the back of it behind her, nudging her far shoulder with a thumb-tip as he aimed those calm, hooded eyes her way, the last words drawled at her;

"Right? Even?"

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Everett scoffed, and dismissively dropped it.

"Fine, whatever," he drawled, wandering over towards the couch. "I'm over it anyway. Better not try that s**t again though, kiddo, I'll beat your a**."

He fixed her with a warning look at that last line, eyebrows raised to emphasize his seriousness, then dropped onto the couch on her free side, snagging a pillow and situating it up against another, on the arm. He then swung his long legs lazily up, one bent at the knee, the other depositing itself audaciously across Peyton's lap, stretching himself along almost the length of the couch, head and shoulders propped up against the cushioned arm, and his own arms draped across his chest.

"-- Got it?" he just had to insist on a response.

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His mouth twisted tightly, smugly, power trip finally satisfied... as much as it ever was, anyway. Now he had to take issue with her tone, though.

"Come onn," he drawled. stretching his head back against the couch arm, throat stretched lazily, to gaze down at her through slender eyes, cat-like, "Get over it, what, you're offended 'cause I hit a girl? Please. Don't get all boring on us already."

"Yeah, relax," Dorien murmured calmly, head tilted languidly towards the back of the couch, so that he could stare distantly at her hair while two fingertips of his hand teased at her far pigtail, at the other end of the arm draped still around the back of the couch. It didn't touch her, but only just."Tell us about yourself."

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"Boring," Dorien complained instantly, letting his hand be swatted away without resistance.

"Yeah, how's a cute little girl like you end up a slave?" Everett drawled, rubbing her far knee idly through her sundress, between his toes and the ball of his foot, staring at her sardonically. "Tell us the gritty details."

"Or we'll find another game to play," Dorien suggested, warned, disinterestedly, fingertips creeping slowly back in to touch at her hair again.

"Actually yeah, let's make it a game. You answer one of our questions, you get to ask us something, how about that."

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"I want to know what all this means," Dorien drawled idly, hooded eyes dipped low to her throat. He let her hair be, thumb-tip nudging her collar instead, brushing her skin lightly.

"Hmn," Everett sighed, and with a heave, pulled himself up, lazily straining a little when he neared. He'd freed her lap while he rose, but promptly tucked his leg back over it, just hooked playfully over her close knee the time, half in her lap. "Yeah, there was a whole list. You still got it?"

"Not on me, it's still in my jeans," Dorien murmured, nodding dismissively back down the hall without removing his eyes from her throat.

Far too far for either of them to feel like venturing.

"It's leather. That was 'untamed'." He tilted his head, boring those dark eyes dryly, sardonically up into hers. "Coulda figured that one out on our own, I think."

He bobbed his eyebrows briefly, tauntingly, the faintest dangerous smirk flickering fleetingly across those full lips.

"You've got a hook for a leash, you know," he teased softly, flicking the metal loop firmly once with a thumbnail, eye contact intensely unwavering.

His arrival made them seem both much closer, now, claustrophobically so, caging the small girl between them.

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Everett accepted the light shove with a smirk, swaying with it, darkly glinting eyes not breaking eye contact. He released her collar, but only after a deliberate beat. She had the interested attention of both twins as she began her explanation. They shared a glance at the news that she could cook, an approving shrug of their mouths, nodding idly. Tree was boring, heart was vague, and the latter they might have asked after had the next not so immediately distracted them. Immediately, they were pressing their mouths together to fight off twin smirks, which were slowly gaining ground regardless, twisting at their noses, poorly concealed slyness in their eyes.

The last kind of took the cake, though. Everett drew his chin back into his neck slightly in mocking surprise, smirking and frowning in incredulity all at once.

"-- Whoops," he joked dryly.

"Guess we should have checked out that one."

Obviously bemused, a mocking glint in his gaze, Everett lifted his hand and pushed his spread fingers over her head, ruffling her hair playfully.

"You gonna kill us in our sleep, kiddo?"

"That's cold," Dorien purred hoarsely, softly, at her ear, closer than he'd been before.

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A snicker splintered roughly from his sneer-prone nose, endearingly candid, but he let himself be pushed away.

"So who'd you snuff? How'd they even know-- what, did you have a warrant out or something?"

"Hang on," Dorien pointed out slyly. He seemed to have sneaked closer; his leg was now alongside hers, and he nudged her knee lightly with his own. "It's Peyton's turn."

"Oh, sure, whatever. Go on then. Ask us something."

Everett was making himself comfortable, leaning sideways against the back of the couch on one arm, facing the two of them.