In the morning.

You bound down the stairs, unfazed by the unusual chill, gleeful in the morning light. God this was like Christmas! Only a million times hotter! You frown a little as you consider how Christmas wasn't really supposed to be 'hot' in the first place, rounding the corner into the kitchen where Mom was already working on breakfast. Contrary to last night, she was wearing an actual parka and a long skirt. Her hair was in a tight bun and she stiffened as she heard you approach. Ah.

It made sense really, she shouldn't be affected by the rings compulsion out here. Last nights adventures surely had her reeling. Feeling bold, you sidle up behind her.

"Morning Mom." You slip your arms around her in a fairly platonic hug, were it not for your raging boner. Based on how rigid she immediately becomes she might even be able to feel it through the parka. She firmly but gently puts her hand on your arm and pushes you away, turning to face you with a tired expression. It doesn't look like she got very good sleep last night. Oops.

"John... about last night. I don't know what came over me. You have to know that wasn't really me, I was in some sort of fugue state. That weird hallucination of... I need you to stop me if something like that happens again. It was wrong. I feel like I failed you..." Her voice breaks and you step up to her, pulling her into an embrace that she initially resists before crying into your shoulder.

"You could never fail me Mom, I'm sorry it affected you so much." You give the ring in your pocket a light squeeze, slipping your fingers through so they appear on the counter in front of you, "Remember the good parts of what happened more than the bad. Believe I'm being honest when I compliment you. Whenever you feel guilty about what happened, come see me." You remove your fingers, feeling the MCR vibrate in your pocket. Hopefully that would alleviate her guilt a bit. Not all of it though. You weren't a total bastard but you didn't want to completely alter her perceptions either.

She sniffled, not fighting your physical contact anymore, "I just don't know what h-happened." You rub her back reassuringly, stroking her hair with your other hand, "It's ok Mom. Remember what you told me? You're a grown woman with normal desires."

She laughed hollowly, "I'm too old to have those kinds of desires, that's the kind of behavior I'd expect from Kelly." Hm. Not 'girls Kelly's age' but Kelly herself. Interesting. "Nobody would be interested in a mom like me."

Whoo, Jeeze, you didn't even have to act for this one: "That's not true at all Mom! You could go anywhere Kelly does and get ten times the attention! It would be a crime against humanity for you not to act a little sexy every once in a while! You could go up to any man in the world and they'd be wrapped around your finger in a heartbeat."

She looked up at you with a half smile, eyes still shining a little from her outburst, "That's nice that you think that sweetie but you really shouldn't say those things about me-"

"Then who will? No other guy has enough self esteem to come up to you and say you could give Helen of Troy a run for her money. I'm special because I know you can't kick me out." She laughs a little shakily but it reaches her eyes and she lifts a hand to your cheek, "You're so sweet."

"I know. But you better check to make sure!" You make a kissy face and lean in. She leans back with a laugh, giving you a shove and pointing to the table, "Sit down over there mister or I won't feed you." You slump down in the chair, trying to look suitably chastised. Your mother looked happy enough as she bustled around the kitchen, shedding the parka as the stove heated up the house. Even with the conservative sweater she wore underneath (how was she not melting?!), you could still admire her curves. You're pretty sure she even poses for you a couple times and after a minute of confusion you realize you never actually set an end-state for last nights, "You will enjoy my eyes on your body but still feel embarrassed" compulsion. Hopefully she wouldn't think too hard about what she was doing so you could both keep enjoying yourselves. You feel pretty good about yourself for some of those compliments, even if they were augmented by the MCR's compulsion.

Speaking of compulsions, Kelly announced her entrance by grabbing you by the scruff of your t-shirt and hauling you out of your chair, "My room. Now." The **** of will behind her voice is a little intimidating, not to mention the feral light in her eyes. In retrospect, you suppose 8 or so hours under an unfulfilled MCR compulsion weren't very pleasant, well rested or not.