Okay, skipping the indoor plumbing conversation. She's not signed on for that. Looking back at Peony, she imagines what she is signed on for. Since the girl-- she's so disgustingly cute, girl seems like the right word-- has so many restrictions, Joan figures she should probably know what she's expected to do first. This would usually be too much effort for her; sex is supposed to be quick, vaguely satisfying, and forgotten. But... why not? No one's ever shown such a marked interest in her before.

"What do you usually do?" No, wait. "What d'you wanna do?"