Pants on Fire

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Author's Note:

I'm posting two chapters today, here's the first one. Don't miss the second half of today's double update!

Love,

K. xx

***

"Do I have a what?" Tina asked.

"A twin." He gave out another of his long sighs. Clearly lamenting Tina's slowness. "A twin. A sibling that looks exactly like you?" Holyoake clarified since she was still staring at him.

"I'm not a complete moron, Mr. Holyoake. I know what a twin is," Tina hissed. "I'm puzzled by your question."

"So, do you?" he asked.

How big does one's ego need to be to allow this degree of unwavering confidence and aloofness? Blimey! And where can Tina buy some of that?

"Actually, I do," she said. "What does it matter?"

"Is your sister's name Clementine as well?"

"What?!"

This felt familiar: the conversation made no sense, and it's like she was once again thrown into a parallel dimension, just as during their first morning together. She's definitely missing something... but what?

"No, I don't have a sister also named Clementine," she pronounced slowly and got up. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Just needed to make sure," he said with a shrug and picked up her skates. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Tina said, still watching him cautiously.

If he suddenly grew a foot taller, and sprouted red tentacles and suckers - basically she's imagining a Zygon - she wouldn't be that surprised.

He headed back to the cottage, and she had no choice but to follow. He was the only human being she was allowed to be around, after all.

***

"What would you like for lunch?" he asked when they came in, washed their hands, and went to the kitchen.

Tina was still pondering the 'twin conundrum.' She kept asking herself whether it had something to do with the 'again conundrum' from before - or was this a separate aggro?

"Ms. Popplewell?"

"Can you stop calling me that?" she snapped and dropped her backside on a kitchen chair.

"You told me I wasn't allowed to call you Tina." He was washing his hands in the sink. Tina glared at his shoulder blades under a soft cashmere jumper. "Although Etty was granted the privilege right away," he said, chuckling. "And you don't fancy 'Ms. Popplewell.' What do I call you then?"

"Whatever you like," she grumbled. "Just not 'Ms. Popplewell.'"

He turned around, picked up a towel to dry his hands, and hummed pensively. The sound was low and velvet, like a purr of a tiger. Tina squirmed on her chair.

"So, my choices are Tina." He started curling his fingers. "Clementine, Augusta, Bernadette, and Gwendolyn. Am I right?" he asked.

Oh. My. God.

Tina nodded, not trusting her voice.

"I think I'll stick with Clementine," he said, and hung the towel on the rack. "So, what would you like for lunch, Clementine?"

Is there such a thing as an auditory orgasm?

"Whatever you fancy," she said, but then decided that was a risky statement. "But nothing too healthy. Unlike you, I don't require lean protein and 'good' fats," she added sarcastically.

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