NEW KIND OF INTIMACY (script version)

Mori and Biff are sleeping together peacably in bed, when suddenly, with a TWANG and a jangly star, Mori's neck seizes up. Wrenched resentfully from slumber, she looks at her alarm clock, which cheerfully informs her it's 3:14 AM. Her scowl and grumbling prove her lack of appreciation.

Zoom out to the greater headspace. Rawlin's out, doing her nightly rounds and examining something; in the background is the headspace treehouse, from which floats a sleepy bubble: "Raaawlinnn... you up?"

"Mm-hmm." Rawlin's always up at odd hours. "What's wrong, can't sleep?"

Mori appears next to her, pointing accusingly at her star-radiating neck. "The world is cruel'n'unfair 'n I huuuuurt! Hnnnngh kill meeee."

"So I can see," Rawlin says, tucking the stone into a pouch on her chest harness. "Let's fix you up, butch."

"You can't fix it," Mori wails, "it's a vessel thing'n I'm already tryin'!" Her thought bubble, pushed in front of Rawlin, shows the vessel desperately (and unsuccessfully) kneading its neck.

Rawlin, unperturbed by Mori's moaning, just say, "Uh huh. Sit."

"Where?" Mori insists as Rawlin gets down to usher her into position. "You're too fuckin big, you'll trash your own back, whiiiiiiine"

"Still a terrible patient, I see."

Rawlin sits with one leg bent. The position puts her at Mori's standing eye level, and her bent thigh is the length of half of Mori's entire body. "Here," Rawlin says, pointing to her leg as an impromptu massage chair. "I can reach everything this way."

Mori looks uncertain. "Uh..."

"Don't make this weird, butch."

Mori gets up and straddles Rawlin's thigh, and it becomes clear immediately by their faces that oh, it is weird. It is SUPER fuckin' weird. But by this point, it's too late, and they just sit there, not looking at each other.

Mori decides she's too exhausted to care and slumps over Rawlin's knee. "Please just fix my neck so I can go back to sleep and do Trump prep in the morning," she says. "I'm so fucking tired."

Rawlin, still looking deeply uncomfortable, just banishes the tips of her digging gloves so she can feel details better.

Once she starts kneading Mori's neck, all discomfort disappears. Mori looks surprised for a moment, then deeply relieved. She sighs... and then immediately falls back into a deep, log-sawing sleep. Rawlin pauses, taken aback by her sudden snoring (far bigger than such a tiny body should contain), then chuckles and gets back to kneading.

Cut to Rawlin and Mori sleeping in Rawlin's den, a nest of blankets and pillow. Mori is snuggled to Rawlin's side, and a big shared thought bubble shows a dream of a cartoonish medieval fantasy landscape. Mori is jumping up and down with excitement, asking, "How shit did you dreamhack us into the Kingdom of Possiltum?!"

"I thought it'd be fun," Rawlin says.

"YESSSS!"

"And I shrank myself so I can fit through doors." Indeed, Rawlin only towers over Mori by a foot or two, instead of the usual five.

"Good plan!"

Mori slowly, peacefully wakes. Her expression shows no confusion or startling. She examines the fur under her palm, then raises her head to look at Rawlin, who's still asleep.

"He has pretty eyes," Mori thinks to herself, brushing her hand over Rawlin's fur. "And he feels good."

She looks Rawlin over with some bemusement, and her thought bubble continues, "I want to pull his hair, make him squirm, and for him to LIKE it. (Long as I don't undress or get my junk touched.) Huh. So this is what attraction feels like. ...I am the WORST lesbian. (Then again, who knows what his gender is, not like the family god encouraged that...)"

Rawlin wakes, stretches. "Mmngh... morning. How's your neck?"

"Better," Mori says, propping her head on one hand. "Thanks. Dunno why it helped."

"Why wouldn't it?" Rawlin asks. "Touch feels good."

"Yeah," M.D. says, trailing one finger over Rawlin's fur. "It does."

Rawlin's eyes go wide.

"So..." Mori asks, "...can I kiss you? Not on the mouth."

Rawlin just stares at her a moment, clearly taken completely by surprise. Then her expression shifts to simultaneously touched and uneasy. "Kind of surprised you'd want to, after..."

Mori holds up a finger. "That was the family god. Not you. It used you. Hurt you."

Rawlin looks away, expression saddened, clearly remembering earlier, darker times.

"Fuck that god," Mori continues angrily, "trying to take this from us! I murdered it twice! It don't get a vote!"

She calms, looks at Rawlin with entreaty. "I feel safe sleeping on you," she says. "I let you touch me. I want to explore this with you. ...I trust you."

That makes Rawlin look at her, and after a moment, she smiles a little and takes Mori's hand. "Then.. that sounds really nice. I'd like that."

Mori leans in and kisses Rawlin's cheek. They're smiling.