[ Her immediate instinct is to deny, deny, deny, but she knows from personal experience that some kids have a pretty keen bullshit detector, and it wouldn't surprise her if Laura falls into that camp given what she's been through — but then there's the question of whether or not Laura actually knows what she's referring to along those lines.
Could be someone's actually had the birds and the bees talk with her at some point, or it could be that she just thinks sex is like this very long, extended handshake. Either way, Wynonna's suddenly very aware of her own very pantsless state, even if she is technically wearing more layers than just Frank's sweatshirt.
Oh, and he's not going to be any help at all in this, apparently, as evidenced by the fact that he's still turned toward the coffee maker; she narrows her eyes at him before trying to paste a friendlier smile on her face for Laura's sake. ]
We're, um. Friends. Good friends. The kind of friends that you make when you're much, much older and can legally vote. Or drink. Definitely then. [ And in response to Laura's other swiping, she waves a dismissive hand, the other subtly trying to pull the hem of the hoodie further down her legs. ] Don't sweat it. Coffee and toothpaste don't mix well anyway.
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[ Her immediate instinct is to deny, deny, deny, but she knows from personal experience that some kids have a pretty keen bullshit detector, and it wouldn't surprise her if Laura falls into that camp given what she's been through — but then there's the question of whether or not Laura actually knows what she's referring to along those lines.
Could be someone's actually had the birds and the bees talk with her at some point, or it could be that she just thinks sex is like this very long, extended handshake. Either way, Wynonna's suddenly very aware of her own very pantsless state, even if she is technically wearing more layers than just Frank's sweatshirt.
Oh, and he's not going to be any help at all in this, apparently, as evidenced by the fact that he's still turned toward the coffee maker; she narrows her eyes at him before trying to paste a friendlier smile on her face for Laura's sake. ]
We're, um. Friends. Good friends. The kind of friends that you make when you're much, much older and can legally vote. Or drink. Definitely then. [ And in response to Laura's other swiping, she waves a dismissive hand, the other subtly trying to pull the hem of the hoodie further down her legs. ] Don't sweat it. Coffee and toothpaste don't mix well anyway.