"What's a ten letter word for 'dodge'?"
You look over at Lydia, curled up on the other end of the couch, the Sunday paper folded up in her hand, biting down on her pen. "Subterfuge."
"Thank you." She mumbles, filling in her crossword. "Subterfuge. That's a good word."
"I guess." You shrug, turning back to your book.
"What's your favourite word?" She asks, filling in another answer. "Titan."
"Don't have one."
"What?" You look up again and find her staring at you. "You're a writer, you must have a favourite word. Come on I'll tell you my favourite number."
"Pi?" You guess, smirking.
"Yeah." She frowns. "Closely followed by one hundred and forty seven."
"147?"
"Yeah, it was the number of my grandparent's house. The Philadelphia grandparents."
"Philadelphia grandparents?" You ask.
"Yeah." She nods. "My dad grew up in Philly. He was born in Ireland, Kildare, but moved here when he was five. My grandpa was a history professor at Penn."
"I never knew that."
"Well, now you do." She smiles. "I always loved their house. I'll take you to see it one day. And by see, I mean we'll drive past it."
"Great. Can't wait." You grin, running your hand over her knee.
"No distracting me." She swats your hand. "Favourite word? Or number?"
"Nine." You sigh, "And I don't know why, I just always liked the number nine."
"Okay. And word?" She smiles, biting down on her lower lip.
You roll your eyes. "Ambivalence. Or unencumbered."
You can see she's mentally saying the words and she gives you a bright smile. "They're good. I approve."
"What would have happened if you didn't like them?" You laugh.
"I dunno." She shrugs. "I wouldn't have put out or something."
"Like that would happen." You smirk at her before kissing her shoulder. "So you have a favourite word?"
"Teilgeoir."
"Chell-ig-or?" You frown, sounding out the word she just said.
"Yip." She nods.
"That's not a word, Lyds."
"Sure it is."
"Can you use it in Scrabble?"
"Well, no..."
"Not a word." You interrupt, grinning.
"If you'd let me finish." She hits your arm. "It's not an English word. It's Gaelic. Or Irish. My grandpa taught me it."
"What does it mean?"
"Projector." She laughs. "I also like videotape. Retro and nostalgic. Makes me think of being a kid and watching 'Sleeping Beauty'."
"You're so weird." You whisper, kissing her jaw.
"I know." She sighs.
"So, how many decimal places do you know Pi to?" You smirk.
She shakes her head. "I can't tell you."
"Why?"
"I get the feeling, if I tell you that, you'll find me less attractive. In fact, I know you will."
"Not possible." You tell her. And it's true. Her geek qualities are what make Lydia, well, Lydia.
She sighs and looks you straight in the eye. "One hundred."
"You know Pi to 100 places?"
"Yeah." She shrugs, her eyes downcast.
"Prove it."
"Jess..." She protests, shaking her head.
"Come on, I'll give you a hand. 3.14..."
She laughs and then covers her eyes with her hand. "Fine. 3.14159 26535 89793 23846 26433,"
You cut her off, surprising her with a kiss. Her hand moves from her eyes to your cheek, holding you in place.
Pulling back, you smirk at her shallow breaths and still closed eyes. "Twenty five." She breathes out.
"What?"
"That's only twenty five places." She blinks in rapid succession, her breathing steadying. "I have seventy five left to go."
"I believe you know them." You kiss along her jawline.
"It was a turn off, huh?"
"Not it in the slightest." You smirk, capturing her lips again. "Maybe we should take this back to the bedroom?" You mumble against her mouth.
"We only dragged ourselves out of the bedroom thirty minutes ago." She laughs.
"Sunday's are meant to be lazy." You mock pout, and she leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.
"I wanna finish my crossword. I never finish and I'm determined to do it."
"I'll help." You sigh, shifting in your seat to gain a better view of the paper.
"Thanks, and I swear once we're done we can do seven across."
You glance down and read the clue. "No I in factor?"
"It's an anagram." She tells you, her eyes bright and her smile wide. Glancing down, you search for the solution within the puzzle and smirk when you find it. There, written in her looped scrawl is 'FORNICATION'.
"Well, then," you shoot her a knowing smirk, "I guess I should tell you that five down is 'quire'."
"You can't make up words." She frowns as you take her pen and fill in the solution.
"I didn't make it up. A measure of writing paper is 'quire'. Trust me." You tell her filling in three more solutions.
"Extravagant." She points to seventeen across, and then to twelve down. "Guise."
"And 'wane' means we're done." You smirk as you fill in the last word.
"We are?" She grins, taking the paper off you. "I finished the crossword?"
"Yeah, sure, you finished the crossword." You laugh, shaking your head at her excitement. She turns to face you, dropping the paper to the floor.
"I believe, I promised you seven across?" She bits down on her lip, giving you a soft smile. "I've never been one to break promises." She whispers before kissing you. She moves her lips across your jaw until she finds the pulse point below you ear.
You gasp and "Lydia..." escapes your lips as she kisses the sensitive spot, and you decide that her name may just be your new favourite word.
