>morning light plays across your face
>you wake up from a very sound sleep to being cocooned in blankets and limbs
>she's wrapped around you like she's trying to climb a tree
>she didn't even disturb your sleep doing that
>it's strange how a person can get used to something so quickly
>your thoughts are interrupted by a call of nature
>you gently try to extract yourself from her grasp
>she just mumbles incoherently and tries to pull you tighter
>dammit woman, not now
>finally weasel out of her grasp and make it to the bathroom
>sweet glorious relief
>wash your hands and come back to the bedroom
>all you can see on the bed is a bundle of blankets and one foot sticking out 
>feeling devious, you sneak up to deliver tickles
>you only get a few in before you're hit in the face with a pillow
>you look up to see her half-asleep and scowling at you
>she shakes her head at you, and burrows back under the covers – completely, this time
>but you have a pillow now
>ho-ho-ho
>you smack the blankets a couple times where her head should be
>you hear a muffled annoyed growl in response
>”Go 'way.”
>you've never really known where to leave well enough alone
>hit the blankets a couple more times with the pillow
>”Quit iiiiiit.”
>couple more times
>suddenly the comforter is thrown at you
>you can't see
>clever girl
>she jumps off the bed and tackles you
>as least this time you only thunk your head on carpeting, so it doesn't scramble your eggs too badly
>she starts hitting you with a pillow
>”I said go away and let me sleep you butthead!”
>each word is punctuated with a hit from the pillow
>you're only half-heartedly trying to defend yourself
>between being tangled in a comforter, getting the wind knocked out from the tackle, and trying to stop laughing
>she drags the comforter off of you and crawls back into bed with a huff
>leaving you weakly laughing on the floor
>you decide maybe you've antagonized her enough this morning
>pick yourself up off the floor and head for the kitchen
>start making some breakfast and a pot of coffee
>as you're in the middle of eating, she comes out of the bedroom looking embarassed
>she's only wearing her shirt from yesterday
>she scoops the eggs and hashbrowns you left in the pan for her and gets a cup of coffee
>she sits down quietly across from you and starts eating
>it looks like she has something on her mind
>so naturally, you let the silence grow until she has to break it
>”Sorry...” she says softly
“For what?”
>”I... I'm not a morning person.”
“I noticed. I kinda brought it on myself. Don't sweat it, we're good.”
>she seems a lot more relaxed now
>after she's done eating she takes her plate and yours into the kitchen
>she comes back and hugs you from behind
>soft and squishy
>”So what are we doing today?”
“Well... I've been thinking. You've got that North Carolina license, yeah?”
>”Mm-hmm!”
>she runs off to the bedroom, and comes back with the license and Social Security card
>you look closely at them
>the damn things sure look real enough
>the license looks right, with the watermarks and everything
>says it was issued October 4th, 2012, expires next year
“Did you have to go in and get your picture taken?”
>she frowns
>”Yeah, we spent close to 4 hours there for something that only takes ten minutes.”
>you ponder this for a moment 
“Well, since you're up here now we should transfer it to this state.”
>she swats your arm
>”I don't want to spend all day stuck in a government office!”
“Well, if we get there early, we'll be able to get out early. Let's go.”
>she sighs
>”Fiiiiiine. Let me go look decent.”
>she disappears into the bathroom for about a half hour, comes back looking beautiful
>she changes into street clothes – another loose-fit plain t-shirt and a set of yoga pants
>you head out to the car and head off to the DMV
>it's about an hour's drive so you settle in and set the cruise
>she flips through the radio until she gets to a classic country station
>she starts softly singing along to everything that comes on
>you can't help but smile at her singing along to Jerry Reed, Waylon Jennings, and C.W. McCall

>you get into the DMV and thankfully the lot is only about half-full
>you get her a number at the door and the two of you work your way through the application form
>as you two wait, the lobby fills up with people
“See, this is why I said to get here early.”
>she gently elbows you in the ribs
>they finally call her number
>the two of you come up to the counter and present the form, her old ID, and Social Security card
>the old lady at the counter asks for a birth certificate and proof of residency
“Umm, well, she lives with me. But we didn't bring a birth certificate.”
>you don't think Ruger issues those, and if they did you doubt the DMV would accept one
>she turns on the charm against the DMV lady though
>”We didn't know you needed one. It's an hour drive just to get here. Please can you take care of it? Pleaaaase?”
>the DMV tries to relent, but caves in the face of such adorableness
>glad to see I'm not the only one that falls victim to it
>one set of pictures and 20 minutes later, we walk out of the DMV
>she's holding a shiny new Wisconsin driver's license in the name of Ruby Storm
“Well, I guess this means Ruby's officially your name now. At least in the eyes of the government. Though we could still get if changed if you wanted to.”
>”Ruby's a nice name... but I was hoping for a different last name...”
>she starts blushing
“What last name did you have in mind?”
>Ruby stops next to the car and turns to look at you
>her entire face is the color of her name 
>yet she still manages to pull off a coy look
>”Yours.”
>it takes a moment to process this
“Eh-heh-heh, what?”
>”Your last name.”
>you start waving your hands like you're trying to ward off a spider web
“Oh no, no no no no no. That's way too fast! Way too fast!”
>Ruby steps closer to you and speaks in a quiet voice
>”But I'm your rifle! We're supposed to be together forever.”
“That doesn't mean I'm just going to rush headlong into marriage!”
>she pouts, and then her face lights up as she has an idea
>”Spoils of war!”
“No, that doesn't work like that.”
>”Awww, come on!”
“Keep it up and we won't stop for Culver's on the way home.”
>”What's a Culver's?”
“Really good burgers and stuff. We can get that, or...”
>the promise of food has saved you for now as she bolts for the passenger's side of the car 
>as the two of you drive towards home, you try to make conversation
“So since you have a driver's license... have you ever driven before?”
>Ruby nods
>”Dad used to have an old F150 with a stick shift that he taught me to drive. I used to run errands around town and stuff for him.”
“Well, shoot, if I'd have known I'd have had you drive home.”
>she shakes her head
>”I don't know the way home yet, and I don't really like driving on the Interstate. Too much traffic.”
>you drive along, her humming along to the radio, and finally get off the Interstate
>right near the offramp is the Culver's restaurant
>you park and head inside
>Ruby stares wide-eyed at the menu
>”Oh my gosh, there's so much stuff!”
>she seems to pull herself back a little, and turns to you
>”W-well, what are you getting, Anon?”
>you look at her a little puzzled
“Why's that matter?”
>she looks nervous, and a little embarassed
>”I-I don't want you to spend more on my food than yours.”
>you touch her cheek gently
“Hey, don't worry. This is my treat, get whatever you want.”
>her face brightens up, and she smiles
>”You mean that?”
“Yeah, go nuts.”
>she hugs you and runs up to the counter
>you might've spoken too soon, as she orders a double cheeseburger meal with everything, and a family-size order of cheese curds, and a chocolate shake
>you get just a small cheeseburger meal with a shake, hoping to scam some cheese curds off of Ruby
>when they bring the food out, she attacks it like she hasn't been fed in a week
>you're able to get some cheese curds while she mauls the burger
>how can a girl that small find room for all that food?
>you're still halfway through your food when she's done with hers and start eyeing your fries
“Back off fuzzball, these are mine.”
>she tries to give you puppy dog eyes, but it's not going to work
>it's not going to work damnit
>argh
“Fiiine, you can have some. Some.”
>that lasts about 20 seconds until all of them are gone
>you look up at her, vaguely annoyed
>she smiles back, trying to be all innocent
“I know I gave you food this morning. So where did all of that go?”
>”Well, it just smelled so good that I couldn't help myself!”
>at least you cadged enough cheese curds to not be hungry
>the two of you head on home
>you barely make it a mile from the restaurant and Ruby is curled up asleep in the seat
>food-induced coma, it looks like
>you do your best to drive gently on the ride home
>when you get home you pick her up out of the car and carry her inside
>she sleepily wraps her arms around you and rests her head on your shoulder
>you lay her down in bed and tuck her in
>it's not that late in the evening, so you decide to play some vidya
>after a few hours, you decide to call it a night 
>shower and shave
>come into the bedroom
>Ruby is still sleeping
>you softly slip under the covers and snuggle up next to her
>goodnight