For Knock Out's part, he was already looking forward to reaching New York where, assuming they had no trouble gaining access to the mansion, there would be privacy to move around in his normal form. It was nothing he would say to Rogue, of course... nothing to cause her more worry, or worse, guilt. But he held the possibility in high anticipation.
It was not that he intended to surveil her while she slept, but there was some element of inability not to when she was ensconced in his alt mode. Before becoming an imPort, he'd barely deigned to let anyone ride in him like a common carriage — reserved mostly for kidnapping hostages, to be honest — and even in the Porter world Knock Out had been extraordinarily choosy about whom he let do so. Rogue had been among that handful.
As a medic his scanners were essentially permanently engaged, and in lieu of having an EM field read for humans, he generally maintained a low level audit on her and thus was aware of any major changes in her physiology. Especially in this displaced world, where an honesty between them was needed that they hadn't quite managed to attain yet, it helped him learn and hopefully, do better.
Besides... Rogue's dreams, like his own, were never reliably peaceful.
This, though. Absently he'd registered her heart rate ticking upward, her pulse increasing, and thought at first it was a reaction to some illusory threat. But then she'd started moving against his seat like she was seeking something with soft breathy sounds, and as he started another uphill climb and his engine once against dropped from overdrive to gain torque— oh.
Oh.
Mirth and mischief bloomed through his own field, though she had no way to feel it. When it seemed like she was properly awake, he remarked coyly, "I'd ask how you slept, but I believe you just told me."
no subject
It was not that he intended to surveil her while she slept, but there was some element of inability not to when she was ensconced in his alt mode. Before becoming an imPort, he'd barely deigned to let anyone ride in him like a common carriage — reserved mostly for kidnapping hostages, to be honest — and even in the Porter world Knock Out had been extraordinarily choosy about whom he let do so. Rogue had been among that handful.
As a medic his scanners were essentially permanently engaged, and in lieu of having an EM field read for humans, he generally maintained a low level audit on her and thus was aware of any major changes in her physiology. Especially in this displaced world, where an honesty between them was needed that they hadn't quite managed to attain yet, it helped him learn and hopefully, do better.
Besides... Rogue's dreams, like his own, were never reliably peaceful.
This, though. Absently he'd registered her heart rate ticking upward, her pulse increasing, and thought at first it was a reaction to some illusory threat. But then she'd started moving against his seat like she was seeking something with soft breathy sounds, and as he started another uphill climb and his engine once against dropped from overdrive to gain torque— oh.
Oh.
Mirth and mischief bloomed through his own field, though she had no way to feel it. When it seemed like she was properly awake, he remarked coyly, "I'd ask how you slept, but I believe you just told me."