“How could you?”
“I swear babe, it wasn’t like that.”
Regina gritted her teeth, then with a languid movement her lips were bitten gently, just a tad more than she liked. Hands shaking while the adrenaline still coursed through her veins. The scales shifted behind her back in a flee or fight response that she used every single droplet of will to hold. No, this wasn’t a predator. This wasn’t a moment where she’d die. This was just her wife being a bitch.
On the other hand, Barbara shivered from head to toe, she hadn’t ever seen Regina like that. She could taste the tension in the air, thick enough to be cut with a butter knife. Static in a moment of total tension, as if every movement she did, every quill of her back that swayed with her breathing could make visible waves that would detonate a bomb. A motion-sensor that could trigger a violent reaction. She became aware of the dust flying in front of her, illuminated by the bright beam of the television, she should have cleaned the place better. She should have done many, many things better.
There was a small flicker of hope, though, when that long tongue practically poured from Regina’s lips, twisting over her long muzzle, and pressing between her eyes to adjust her glasses. The pangolin only did that when she was taking that precious second to think her next course of action. Perhaps Barbara would live.
“A frigging blue shell?”
“I know babe I-”
“You SWORE we’d quit blue shells and try to get better!”
“I swear it was just a reaction!”
“A reaction!? Barbara, you passed through the power-up, you saw the icon!”
“What else could I do!? You know you can’t just discard a power-up, it’s the game! Not me!”
“You said the same thing about super smash! And you keep choosing Meta-Knight!”
“No, no armor-muffin! You know Meta-Knight is banned!”
And with that Regina coiled her tail and stood up in a springing motion, her manner was calmer, no, she was focused. There was still anger in the sway of that tail tip. No. The punishment locker! Barbara’s breath was caught in the middle of her throat, suddenly weighting two thousand tons. She could see Regina’s fingers slipping through the torture of choice.
“Baby, please, step away from that locker.”
“You did this to yourself.”
“You know the rules.”
“Oh gods, no, please! Anything but Mario Party! I swear I won’t do it again, we can even play Battletoads, Ninja Gaiden! NO! NOOOO!”
But it was too late, and the punishment was delivered through the cheery voice of Charles Andre Martinet.