The tiniest of laughs, a rumbling near the top of Plourr's head and Aeryn pressed her mouth to the not-quite bald anymore skull.

Plourr quivered around her and in the back of her brain somewhere a voice noted the oddness of the situation. Then her hands were her own again, damp and helping her friend, her lover, back to the hard table and their sweat soaked bodies.

"Are you alright?" A gentle, tired query, unable to hide the slow grin on her face.