Chapter 1: Dehabitation

"Martha?" Doctor Curtis Connors had to turn around and pull the screen door tight, "Billy's happy enough to watch the fireworks with his frie—classmates. I think he's finally coming around to our new home. I think you're right. He needs to try."

"Well having a new friend makes the move that much easier," Martha grinned at her husband as he entered the kitchen. She knew her husband; she suffered no insult as he dropped his keys and notes on the kitchen table before cluing into the black teddy she was wearing. In her head, she even counted down, "3, 2, 1"

"Martha!" And then his voice broke like a teenager's, "Calypso!"

"I invited her over for dinner. I hope you don't mind," Martha fought her pleased laugh back down. He had stopped dead. His eyes scanned across the kitchen counter where his wife and her new friend were waiting. Both women dressed as heart stopping promises.

"As I was saying," Martha grinned. She had been nervous but seeing her husband stagger helped melt the tension. His eyes bulged, along with another organ, to see her next to her new friend, "Sometimes you just need a good friend to help you through."

Calypso grinned with Martha. Her outfit was dark leather and hugged her body. Martha and Calypso were not mirrors. Calypso was taller, more leonine. Martha was flushed, acting girlish. The wife picked up a flute of sparkling wine; her sip became a gulp. The friend helped settle Martha with a hand up along her spine.

"I don't know. I mean ... wow." Curt muttered as he approached his wife. Calypso offered him a flute but he leaned in and kissed his wife before pulling back. He smiled to Calypso, "What is that I smell?"

The women both laughed as he turned his head towards the oven. Light steam wafted up to the vent.

"I've taught your wife to make jerk chicken," Calypso grinned.

"We thought you might need your strength," Martha found that forcing a smile transitioned easily into a genuine one.

"I can't wait for a taste," Curt grinned. He sipped from his flute before putting the mostly filled glass on the counter. He slipped his arm around his wife. She leaned in onto his shoulder, "I thought jerk chicken was Jamaican. I recall you saying you're from Haiti originally."

"I've always felt at home with a rack of spices and fresh meat," Calypso smiled looking at the Connors'. Curt beamed at the idea of being fresh meat. The women were clearly the spices.

"That's how I've always felt with pipet and a centrifuge," Curt agreed, "Shall we take this to the dining room?"

"You two go ahead, I'll bring the plates." Calypso gave Martha a smile and a push.

"So, how did all this happen?" Curt whispered to his wife when they arrived in the next room.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes!" Martha laughed while trying to give him a look, "I'm still a little confused and a lot shellshocked."

"Yeah," Martha smiled, "But I've been seeing how you and me and Billy have been since we've got to Florida. It was clear we needed to do something. We need to make some new memories if we wanted to make this a new home."

"Memories? I'll never forget this," Curt smiled and Martha elbowed him before taking a seat at the table. Curt sat at the head to her right.

"I know that you've only ever been with me..." Martha stroked her foot up Curt's leg.

"I've only ever wanted to be with you," Curt smiled.

"That's sweet, but totally untrue. I was never offended by you being attracted to women," Martha took a deep breath, "So when Calypso suggested this a couple of weeks ago, I was a little horrified at first. Yet we've always been eager to explore and discover and push the boundaries of everything we know and believe. Why should this side of our life be any different? I mean, if you're up for it?"

"So long as you're here with me."

"I hope youre hungry," Calypso carried in three plates. She laid hers and Martha's down next to each other and when she carried the third plate over to Curt, she reached around him and draped herself over his armless sleeve.

"Ravenous!" Curt smiled at Martha. Martha was sitting rigid and vertical. She met Calypso's eyes and relaxed the mite she had needed too. Curt grinned as Calypso messed up his hair a little. There was clearly still spices or something on her little finger. It left a little tingle on his ear and that lack of perfection was the grounding force Curt needed. He reached over and squeezed his wife's left hand.

"Let's not wait any longer," Martha said as Calypso pulled her seat in next to her.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Curt looked to see his food had been cut up, discreetly in the kitchen. He smiled at Calypso. He had difficulty cutting his food, even with his prosthetic arm which he wasn't even wearing at the moment. Still it was dehumanizing to be treated like an invalid at the table. He speared a sliver of chicken and took a bite.

"Hmm," He smiled, "I was worried it'd be spicier than this."

"This isn't a night for worries, sweetheart," Martha squeezed Calypso's wrist thank you, "It's for enjoyment."

"Well you two are going to have to work really hard to top this," Curt said chewing through his fourth forkful. The women looked at him until he turned just a shade redder than Spider-man's suit. "I mean ... Uh..."

"Thank you," Calypso smiled.

"And don't worry," Martha matched her friend, "I've never been afraid of a little hard work."

After Curt recovered before choking, the three laughed and flirted until Martha had to get up to refill their flutes.

"I want you to know that I'm really glad Martha invited me over tonight," Calypso had finished sometime ago. Curt's plate had been about twice as full as the women's.

"I'm always happy to see Martha and her friends," Curt grinned.

"Oh, stop you," Calypso stuck out her tongue, "You about ready for dessert?"

"I think we could all use something sweet," Martha placed a new flute at Curt's hand before putting her glass down by her plate. She leaned in, Calypso smiled. Their kiss was slow but not tentative.

"Shit!" The base of the flute cracked off when Curt dropped it onto the table. He managed to catch it before it fell down to the tiles. The liquor spilled in a wide splash across the floor.

"Looks like someone's a little eager," Martha smirked from over Calypso's shoulder. The wife looked down to her friend, "I think we can leave this mess until morning."

That decision went over well. Calypso pulled back Curt's chair and Martha led him by his hand. They didn't hurry to the bedroom. Excitement combatted trepidation. Martha walked backwards never letting go of Curt and sometimes watching Calypso over her husband's shoulder for inspiration or encouragement.

The master bedroom was off the dining room down a short carpeted hallway. The last door on the left. Four big mirrored closet doors overlooked a queen size bed dressed in deep red blankets and black silk sheets. Martha walked backwards until she hit the bed and stepped up and leaned back across dragging Curt up and atop her. They fell together, kissing hard, like teenagers in love. Martha was dressed for the event but Curt was still in a shirt and pants. Agile black fingers slipped together around plucked open his buttons. Martha tugged his shirt out of his pants. Curt just let the women do the work. He tangled his fingers in Martha's red hair.

"Mmm," Calypso murmured as she pulled the shirt off of Curt's back. She let the garment dangle around his wrist. He'd discard it when he came up for air. Her hands were cool and deft as they skirted the rim of his pants and met Martha's hands at his fly.

"Baby," Curt nipped Martha's lips, before retreating. He knelt straddling the top of her right stocking, "You're incredible."

"She is absolutely gorgeous," Calypso agreed. She had climbed on the bed behind Curt and her hands ran over his belly and across his neck. She kissed the scientist along the neck and he couldn't stop grinning.

"Someone likes the attention," Martha slithered up the bed so she could sit up and take a firmer grip of Curt's trousers. In no hurry, yet wasting no time, her fingers slipped into his boxers. Everything came down. Calypso rolled Curt to the left, Martha brought herself up in the same anticlockwise momentum. Both women pulled a leg off of either ankle and Curt was only wearing white socks. The women set his legs down on the comforter. Martha's fingertips and Calypso's fingernails ran up calves and thighs. Calypso circled the prize, forcing Martha to lead as she gathered her husband in hand.

"Ladies," Curt stroked his hand over Martha's cheek and down her arm. She scooched up closer to his face. They kissed, deep and warm and interupted as Curt gasped.

"Calypso! You just ate!" Martha whispered in mock admonishment. This was the moment for the Connors. This was the moment that would say whether this was a good idea or a bad idea. Calypso's tongue encircled Curt's cock. Her eyes watched Martha. A small nod and slow smile and Curt's cock entered the second woman of his life, "Isn't she beautiful, Curt?"

Curt answered by kissing his wife hard for a short moment. Mad eyed to her warm smile, he watched her slink back down his body,"Martha?"

"It's way too big for her to eat without a friend," Martha grinned. Calypso refused to chuckle around the cock in her mouth but Curt smiled at her immediate response. He met Calypso's eyes. They were hypnotic. A smell, her perfume maybe, reached his nose and he reached for her. Martha settled down next to her friend. Two beautiful faces bracketed his cock and he felt two differently warm tongues start together and move around himself. The cross reach was awkward and he put his hand on Martha's head in that way she hated. The tips of her teeth reminded him and he just fell back ecstatic.

Calypso was measured, artistic. She knew what she wanted from Curt and was going to get it. Her lips rolled over the head giving way for Martha. The redhead took the whole cock without resistance. She loved her husband and had learned his likes and dislikes, mastering them. She felt her hair get tucked behind her ear. Calypso's tongue licked along Martha's ear. The redhead shivered. She rolled her neck back as she rose up off his cock. Curt sat up.

He watched his wife kiss another woman. He had needed the minute to hold back and make sure the night continued on. The scene didn't help. He breathed deeply. The two women broke apart with smiles. To Martha, this was show, she had never been bisexual but she was certainly firing up Curt. That always empowered her. She reached to pull Calypso in for a tight hug. Their lips tentative but not going for another long kiss. Calypso was unfastened; Martha was untied. The women turned up to Curt as their tops slipped forward off their arms. Their breasts high on display.

"Wow," Curt articulated. He rose up. He pulled his wife to him. They kissed and he rolled her down, nudging Calypso aside to lay down his wife. He felt Calypso's touch on his shoulder, arm, hip and sex, unfamiliar but welcome. His wife was below him. His and Calypso's fingers stripped away her panties.

"Thank you," Martha whispered as she wrapped her arms around her husband. Her light lipstick smudge on his and Calypso's lips already left a streak on his earlobe. Calypso's hands opened her, she was ready and guided him, he was fighting his end until he sat deep inside his wife. Their third member had climbed behind, another layer warm against Curt's back. Martha squealed warmly as they moved. Slowly, undeniably, Calypso's hips rocked into Curt's back and became the metronome of their sex. She leaned in tight, bringing the couple tight together. MArtha's legs wrapped her husbands thighs. Her heels settled behind Calypso's knees.

Calypso didn't interrupt she was only the rudder of their sailing ship. Martha whispered in her husband's ear. Their rhythm conveyed the comforter down the bed. Their sex grew heavy.

Martha loved Curt but they both knew how her body worked. Between the her left hand teased her clit converting their emotional bond into a growing sexual one. Had Calypso seen she would have taken over her friend's duty but Martha was more content to keep her pleasure a Connors' affair. Curt fought back. He breaths were grunts and his jaw was tight as he resisted. He could have fought the urge in his mind but he could never tear his mind truly away from his wife. Calypso's foreign but caring touch impelled him on but he refused to crash first. Martha soon gurgled and sighed.

"More, a little more," She moaned and received what she needed. Calypso's fingers brushed aside Martha's sweaty bangs. The women matched eyes and the wife caught her friend's glare and inhaled the erotic perfume. Her orgasm seemed to start at her fingertips. Rushing through her blood to her lungs before racing off down her legs to her toes. More energy flowed into and through her. Her breaths rasped out of her mouth. Curt kissed her throat and she slowly edged back. Her smile and eyes sharing a the same brilliant happiness.

"A little more Curt," Calypso urged, "Join your wife."

"No Curt," Martha brushed his cheek, "Ease out," She looked up at Calypso, "I didn't invite you into our bed as a witness Calypso."

"Are you sure?" Calypso smiled.

"I am," Martha lolled back in her glow, "C'mon Curt. Give her a try."

"Martha, may I?" He asked with a wide grin. She slapped him playfully with her sex soaked fingers.

"Because you asked so nicely," She said. Their smiles mirrored. Their pace degraded until it stopped. Calypso edged Curt backwards. His wife was aglow with satisfaction, wet and her reddened complexion. Calypso laid Curt down aside his wife and Martha cuddled in.

The spouses watched each other as Calypso climbed astride Curt's hips. Their guest in the bedroom swore to heaven as her wet sex audibly slid down Curt's cock. He held her by the hip and dragged her forward as she descended.

"You are a wonderful friend Martha," Calypso said. She looked down and bared a more predatory smile than Martha had the sense left to notice, "I'm honored to be welcome here."

"This is really kind of fun," Martha admitted. She had actually imagined a thousand different things shifting this from awkward to a disaster and not one had come to pass. She snuggled up higher against her husband. He turned and took her breasts with his teeth and she giggled. It was a warm happy event.

"Oh, please," Calypso begged as she laid her hands just below Curt's ribs and began to accelerate. The whole experience was alien to Curt. Martha moved differently, felt differently, enjoyed differently. He gasped and rolled his shoulders. He chewed the inside of his cheek. Calypso started gasping. The warm caring night grew insistent and urgent. Curt looked at his wife and knew any fight he made to stay in control was destined to be a losing one.

"Martha!" That earned Curt a kiss that should have drowned him. Calypso's hand pushed down on Martha's red hair. Black hips rolled harder on Curt's cock.

Calypso spasmed, roiling from hips to throat in swift violent throes. Her moans were stringent and wet. She clamped her teeth shut. She squeezed her knees tighter on Curt's hips. The insoluble capsule came up her esophagus and was caught against the back of her teeth.

"Did you see that, honey?" Martha sat back at her side and watch her friend ride her husband hard, "You're giving her a good one. A very good one."

"I..." No other words existed in Curt's vocabulary. He forced himself to sit up, Martha's hand on his back gave fruition to his second attempt. His hand was holding Calypso by her breast. She essed forward, her arms snaking behind his head and pulling him into a kiss. It was hot but Curt couldn't provide the same passion for her as he did for Martha. The lips at his neck told him she saw that and liked it. Calypso had no such limitations her tongue swept under his lips. Curt's eyes flashed opened as something harder set against his uper teeth and was pulled hard to the left by Calypso's agile tongue. His fight had just ended. He was ready to release but the shock of powdered liquor dissolving cold in his saliva ended him. He didn't push her off as his body convulsed. She slipped back for air. Trails of spit that connected their lips frosted at his end for just a moment and then he shrieked into a fang filled hiss.

"Curt? Curt! Cuuuuurrrt![1]" Martha's cries were accompanied by a hasty retreat with into a heap on the floor. She looked up, wide and teary eyed to Calypso. Curt thrashed harder. Calypso cackled. Martha screamed. Flesh twisted and bone cracked. Martha threw herself to the floor dodging the taloned slash of a reformed arm.

"Reading again?" Debra looked up to see the big blond, Brock, on the gurney propped up and looking at her from across the lab. Debra closed the dog eared paperback on her finger.

"A filthy habit," She stopped a grin, "I really should be watching more TV."

'That's probably what I miss most at Ravencroft," Eddie sighed, "I don't have access to the library. I used to put away a novel every week."

"Yeah?" She turned on her stool. He had a great view of her legs. She saw that he never really left her face.

"Absolutely," He grinned, "Hitting up the library was one of the few acts of freedom I had in the foster home."

"Oh, I didn't know," she said sheepishly.

"It's alright. I made the best of it while I was there," He fell into a few moments of nostalgic sadness. After blinking, he looked back to see Debra watching him interestedly, "So, what are you reading?"

"Um," Her dark cheeks flushed and she looked at her feet which were trying not to kick, "It's called Little Black Duck by Kaine.[2] It's, uh, it's a bit smutty."

"Nice," Eddie grinned, "Nothing wrong with that."

"What do you read?" She pushed ahead and away from her own book.

"Everything and anything, but I do have a love of science fiction. Especially the big space operas."

"I know what you mean," Debra smiled, "There's just something romantic about how far from home our minds can take us."

"Nothing is beyond us," Eddie agreed. They both heard the light thumping overhead but weren't processing it.

"I really love medical mysteries," Debra smiled as Eddie visibly perked up, "There's this one author that--"

The hiss of claws on slate and the shriek of bending metal played backup to shattering glass. Debra screamed and sent her stool clattering as she backed away in a hurry from the glass shower. Eddie twisted from the damage but couldn't avoid nicks and cuts. The giant man-sized Lizard was naked. Green razorback scales rolled over massive muscle groups and reached out as he twisted left and right bearing a mouthful of daggers and a tail as thick as debra.

"Doctor Connors?" Eddie gasped. The face of the Lizard twisted towards him, stabbing the air with his forked tongue.

"Connors? What?" Debra asked as she hammered 911 into her cell phone.

"Doctor Connors, it's me Eddie. Calm down, calm down, " Eddie wasn't badly hurt but a cut across his forehead was bleeding profusely. The Lizard sidled towards him, mouth open and eyes red.

"I need police, army, everything!" Debra hissed quietedly and panickedly into her phone, "A giant Lizard is attacking Connors Warren lab at ESU!"

The phone disappeared from the side of her ear with a harsh kick of wind and an impact into her fingers. An elegant black woman in a hide leather slip dress and animal bone jewerly retracted a hand. Confident in leaving Debra on the floor, Calypso approached th Lizard with a confident swagger.

"My pet, that isn't the blood I promised you." Debra wrinkled her nose at the sweet toxic smell that flowed off the woman. The Lizard snapped it's tongue hungrily at Eddie Brock. Eddie squirmed, unabled to flee, he flexed away from the monster. Seconds felt like final hours, the Lizard shifted away and turned back towards Calypso. Her hand cupped the Lizard's jaw and the reptile followed the woman meekly.

"What do you want?" Debra pleaded quietly as she took the long way around the room. The door was near enough that she could flee if she so chose but she kept her circuit, making slowly towards Brock.

"Not me!" Eddie caught her eyes and mouthed to Debra, "Gene cleanser."

Debra looked to the refrigerated vaults where the gene cleanser was held. There was nothing to be taken from there. Not with the terrifying black woman running her hands over the safe. The Lizard scritched up the tiles as he waited like a coiled spring at her shoulder.

"Here it must be," Calypso decided. Her hand dragged across the door. A trail of silvery liquor quickly evaporated behind her hand. She walked on and the Lizard raised his head straight up. Tongue flicked and teeth flashed. He screamed and Debra ducked tight behind Eddie's gurney. The havoc of the Lizard crashing in through the skylight had been frightening. The wrenching, shrieking, popping noise as the Lizard bit and sheared away the lock and hinges of the vault was terrifying. Hissing like windstorm the Lizard retreated clawing and biting the amputated door like a dog with a bone.

The small safe was home to a single test tube rack. Four test tubes sat in the rack. All had been filled with what was clearly blood. She picked out the first test tube. A foil seal was torn and the tube was only a third as full as its brothers. She sniffed the blood.

"Spoiled!" She said as a curse but put the test tube back with reverence. The next one she pulled out and broke its seal, "Much better." She returned sample SM-08 to the rack and pilfered the other two samples. That sweet toxic smell permeated the air again. The Lizard shrunk meekly as he was mounted by Calypso. He left gouges in countertops and the stone rim of the skylight as he smuggled her away.

"Is there any gene cleanser left?" Eddie turned towards Debra. She sponged the away the blood from his face with a fist of paper towels.

"There's always a few vials," She nodded.

"It's the only thing that can stop him."

"No, I was thinking I'd go to band camp again for August," Gwen curled her legs under her as she spoke on the phone.

"I'll miss you, babe," Harry responded from his own home, "I really don't know if I could get through a whole month without you."

"Well, my mind isn't completely made up yet." Gwen needed her courage to talk above a whisper. She knew that she really cared for Harry. She felt his health and happiness like the world on her shoulders. She knew she could carry it, she had to.

"I'm always here," She warmed up to hear his smile, "Just call me when you're thinking about this. We can work through anything, together."

"I know we can," Gwen wore a small smile. "I'll talk to you later."

"Sure, love you, babe."

"I ... love you too." Gwen clicked off her phone and tossed it. It bounced over the cushions of her couch.

"You alright, Gwenny?" Her dad peaked in from the kitchen. Gwen's cheeks burned red and she sat up immediately straight. She hadn't known her father was home. He didn't react to her reaction. He just walked into their living room. He had plates with grilled cheese sandwiches in either hand.

"I'm OK," Gwen sidled aside so her father could join her on the couch. "I'm just trying to decide what I want to do for the summer."

"I thought you had your heart set on band camp?" He asked with a small smile, "Isn't that what you did all that fundraising for?"

"I didn't actually do that much, not this year."

"Honey, I'm pretty sure that that camp will be open until the end of days with how much you raised for them last year," He took a bite of his sandwich and didn't quite finish chewing before he continued, "You deserve to go. You still love it, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do," Gwen sighed, "But with Harry and everything, I don't know."

"You can't put your life on hold or give up on what you love for some boy," He brushed aside his daughter's hair and made sure she was looking up at him, "Any boy that would ask that of you doesn't really love you, just the dreamed up ideas he has of you."

"You're right, dad," Gwen sighed, "Harry will come around."

George Stacey smiled. He took another bite. "We need something to wash these down."

"Glass of milk for me, please," Gwen asked.

"You read my mind."

"Robbie! What is this and what is it doing on my desk!" J Jonah barrelled out of his office waving around a printout in his left hand. Betty Brant went white. She went red. She almost went under her desk. Her deep breath was only successful on her fourth attempt. She pushed out her chair and walked to Jameson and Robertson.

"It's well written," Robbie said with a cool tone, "A few days too late to be front page. A bit too editorial as well."

"And why was it waiting for me?" Jameson paced the length of the city desk. Foswell kept his eyes down and was typing long past his final period.

"I don't know," Robbie offered back the printout but Jameson batted it away, "I didn't authorize it."

"I wrote this Mr Jameson," Betty kept te butterflies regimented in her stomach as she picked the paper out of the air.

"You! You're my assistant! I can't have you running off and covering the news! This place will fall apart!" Betty took the back handed compliment with grace but had no chance to rebut before Jameson stormed back to his office. Robbie turned to Betty.

"This should have come to me," Robbie warned her.

"I thought ... With Ned in prison ... We'd need another ... I'm ready."

"You want to be a reporter?" Robbie asked, "Well you got to write more than yesterday's page twelve. You need news. You need to show Mr Jameson he didn't lose a great reporter, he's just discovered his newest talent. And if this is the best you can do," Robbie picked the sheet out of Betty's wavering hand, "You don't want Mr Jameson to see you spend any of the time you've already committed to him on this."

"But--I--I can do this."

"I have no doubt," Robbie said, "But I also have no proof. The Daily Bugle can't print our hopes. The Daily Bugle can only print facts."

"And whatever it takes to tie those facts together." Betty jumped at Peter Parker's Jolly Jonah impression. Not that she thought her employer had somehow sneaked up on her, the Rhino made less noise when he tramped through the offices, but she hadn't been prepared for anyone coming up behind her.

"Peter, you're looking worse for wear," Robbie said guardedly, "I'd never thought I'd see you in here again."

"Yeah, I thought snapping photos of that little redhead of yours would be more fun than chasing Spidey though landfills." Betty smirked now that her heart was beating like a human's and not a hummingbird's.

"Turns out not all bosses are as understanding as Mr Jameson," Peter reached into his backpack and pulled out an envelope of photos. Robbie pressed Betty's first attempt to the back of Peter's envelope and quickly shuffled through the photos.

"Neither of you have what the Bugle needs," Robbie announced after a second trek through the photos. Betty slumped. Peter had to cool his hackles. Robbie might be harsh but he was certainly truthfully so. He looked both aspiring reporters in the face, "But you certainly have what the other needs. Betty, you want a byline? Peter you want your job back? Bring me something no one else has. A fresh article by Betty Brant and accompanying photos by Peter Parker. Until you can do that, you're probably in the jobs you should be."

The Silver Spoon had become less of a staple in the social scene of M3's in-crowd since the school year had wound down. Today's congregation was the work of Glory. She had spent much of the summer vacation lazing around with Kenny. She and MJ had shared a few texts but otherwise she had been out of touch with her girls. She almost regretted it.

"I had told Rand to bring somebody for you Lizzie," Sally reached for Liz's hand and squeezed, "But you know how big dumb jocks can be."

"I've got experience in that area," Liz smiled, "How are you holding up Sha Shan?"

"Oh, I think I've got the beast under control," She beamed.

"You're not supposed to be friends with your ex's new girl, Lizzie," Sally tutted, "It's not done."

"Well it should be done," Liz brushed aside the contempt, "Flash can be a great guy. I'm glad he's with someone who makes him be that guy."

"Thanks, Liz," Sha Shan gave a half smirk.

"This is a disaster!" Sally fell back in her chair and crossed her arms. Her face in a harsh pout as she regrouped. Flash looked over at Rand. They both laughed.

"What's so funny?" Sally growled.

"This disaster will be of biblical proportions," Flash attempted to brush it away.

"What does that mean!" Sally whipped back to Rand.

"What he means is old testament, miss Avril, real wrath of God type stuff."

"Exactly." Gloria chimed in behind a smile.

"Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies! Rivers and seas boiling!" Rand continued in Sally's ever reddening face.

"Forty years of darkness!" Flash laughed. Sha Shan's look of confusion confirmed their plans for the night.