Amy claims she'll be fine sleeping on my couch. A discussion with the kids found a copy of the first disk of Animaniacs.
This is why Amy is singing along with Dr. Scratchensniff, "The monkey's going to put me in my grave," wrapped around my arm, "Don't know what to say, the monkeys won't do."
As the second episode starts with Yacko singing a song of the nations of the world, I start paying attention as I think they miss Brunei and the song leaves Asia back to Africa, "He missed Brunei," I say.
"Might have," Amy agrees.
The Warners proceed to hassle Albert Einstein, and I hide my face behind my hand, only peeking out occasionally. I start as they sing the acme song, then giggle as they sing it backwards, and bury my face in Amy's hair.
The music for the next sketch starts, "Watch!" Amy says, as the Warners sing "They're laboratory mice, their genes have been spliced."
A bit of technobabble later, "Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?"
"I think so, Brain, but where are we going to find a duck and a hose at this hour?"
I snort, Amy hugs my arm and rubs her face on my shoulder. I glance down, and she's smiling up at me.
After Brain swears off gameshows I look at Amy while the Warners turn to the Wheel of Morality, then back to the TV at "Moral number two: If at first you don't succeed, blame it on your parents." I blink at the TV a moment, then turn back to Amy, "So why are you the crazy one?"
"Because it's funny," she looks away, "and you already took over the city."
I look at the back of her head, and contemplate that while the credits roll. At last I pull her close with my free arm and kiss the top of her head, "You can call me Brain if you want, but I'm not changing my name, OK?"
"What is your name? Other than Skitter?"
I watch her shoulder, her hair tickling at my face, "I thought you knew already."
She twists to look up at me, "Nope. I walked across town to you because I knew you'd look after me. I hoped,' she lets go of my arm, twisting to throw a leg over mine, straddling my lap, her hands on my shoulders, almost eye to eye, "For this, but . . . " she trails off.
"What is this?" I ask gently, keeping a smile on my too-wide lips, "What do you want?"
"Will I get it?"
"What you want. What I want."
"Is that a proposal?" I tilt my head as I try to raise an eyebrow.
She blushes from her hairline to the collar of her shirt, "Would you like it to be?" she manages, keeping her voice fairly steady, her eyes limpid pools as she maintains eye contact long past comfortable.
"I think it's a little soon for that," I manage after a bit, my ears warm, "I've never had a girlfriend, or a boyfriend," I let myself brush her hair behind her ear, "If you'd like to change that."
"I love that you see me," she says, "I want to find out if I can love you. I want to know your name. I want to kiss you again."
"OK," I say, swallow, "My name is Taylor Hebert. I think I'd like it if you kissed me."
She leans in slowly, maintaining eye contact until just before our lips meet. Her lips seem even softer than when I kissed her. After a few moments I feel her tongue brushing against my lips, and it tastes like mint.
A/N: And here we see a first admission of what Amy wants.