With somewhat bad expectations, you turned at the roof. "Did you hear that?" You lowered your voice.
"What exactly?" Phil was playing nonchalant about the rustling and bustling, which came from the thatch-covered top of his cottage, but he hid a smile behind his tea cup. "Another tea?"
"Maybe later, something stronger", you mumbled. "Can I burrow a ladder?" Because you clearly heard not only the rustling of hay, but also a soft moan and a muffled "Just take it off", you were sure about it. And right then, something rolled down, landing at the table and missing your tea cup by a hair´s width. It was bee-yellow and out of chitin, and at first you mistook it as part of Josh´s face armor. But, as you inspected further, it was not. It was his suspensory.
Phil coughed, then catched himself. "Now, Lucy ... be a cool mum. It´s part of being a Trainer."
You put the ladder at the roof, and you were not even quiet with it.
On the roof laid Josh and Racie, both tightly embraced and in differing stages of undressing. Racies aviator jacket was wide open, laying bare her impressive perky rack, at least still in a sports bra. As for Josh, he had draped his chitin armor all around, hooking the parts up at the thatch, and was in the middle of undressing his shirt out of black silk. His sixpack half exposed.
They both looked at you, caught like children with their hands in the cookie jar. Racies hand - one of her wings had turned back into an arm, for that matter - was not in a cookie jar, but in Josh´s pants.
"Uhm", she said softly, "Hi, trainer?"
"My liege, this ... Uhm", came from Josh, "We - I - she - they -..."
You stopped him, just raising your hand. Then groaned. Deep out of your soul. Not even knowing if this was normal or bad or a good sign for a friendly team atmosphere. What was your job now, getting a bucket full of ice water? It was your first thought, sooo ...
Behind you, Phil climbed up the ladder. "My", he said with badly hidden laughter, "I see. Merging sometimes has an interesting impact on team dynamics."
You turned at him. "What should I do with that??"
"Keep calm. Ask them if they are ready for eggs."
You snapped back. "You are not! I think."
They both flinched, now hugging each other more like frightened kids than teenage lovers.
Phil intervened: "Come back down, Lucy ... There is still tea, and I will allow you a shot of Whiskey with it."
You took another deep breath, then shook your head. "Uhm", you said. "Okay. But!" And you pointed harshly at your Beastie-Teenagers. "Pants up! And we talk in ... in fifteen minutes. About strategy and so on! So hurry with whatever you are doing!"
"Okay", Racie whispered meekly.
"Aye", Josh replied with a salute.