[identity profile] fikgirl.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] crossing_lostrp
Who: Ami
Where: The Bunker, Blaise-Daniel-Jon's room
When: Day 29, morning, after Who da Man?
Invited: Scott, Blaise, open
Status: Complete

The body belonged to a wanker whom on his best day made Ami want to make him among the first to be kicked off the island. The voice, too, was House's. The cane and the pale eyes, all of it belonged to Gregory House. Despite all of that, Ami knew that it was Scott – her husband, her lover, her everything. The touch of his hand, the tenderness in his eyes, the softening of features that probably found soft to be foreign all spoke to her of Scott.

Ami didn't need empathy or their link to recognize the other half of her. She missed it terribly, and staring into House/Scott's eyes, the hollow emptiness of what was missing – all those things that she took for granted and never realized – hit her like a sucker punch. Ami teetered between relief and hysterics for a long moment. Her feet propelled her toward him, her arms half-rising before she stopped herself from flinging her body into his arms.

"Of course we will," the slight rise in her (deeper) voice betrayed her wavering confidence in her words. Ami laced Blaise's larger fingers through House/Scott's not caring about propriety for the moment. "This island hasn't managed to defeat us yet."

(Unless you count holding us all prisoner.) Ami ruthlessly suppressed the paranoid thought.

She gave House/Scott's hand a squeeze. When he gave a wince, Ami grimaced and recoiled, stumbling over an apology as she attempted to pull her hand away. Surprisingly, House was obviously a bit stronger than he looked because Scott held on. "I'm sorry – I don't know – I'm stronger – I – you're stronger," Ami directed the last at Blaise.

"Yeah, I know," Blaise replied, not unkindly – but very matter of factly. However, Ami was a bit too startled to really focus on his tone. Startled not because Ami stood there watching herself talk, but because somehow hearing her voice without the accent was a bit unsettling.

She wondered – briefly – what Blaise made of staring at her in his body. (Or what he makes of my body. It's so quiet in his head. Like suddenly going blind and deaf. It's . . . lonely here.) The thought was both depressing and unsettling and Ami tried to push back the fear and anxiety they provoked.

"How – how are you?" Ami asked the soldier-in-her-body carefully. She indicated his/her head with a loose wave of her hand which seemed far too effeminate for Blaise's very muscled and masculine arm, wrist and fingers. "In there? Are you holding up all right, then? Is – is there anyone else?"

She didn't ask about Megabyte. Ami might not have her body, but evidently gut instinct was something that stuck with her. Megabyte would have come running or been harassing Blaise right and left, if he'd been able. That meant that something had happened to him as well.

Ami didn't point out Jon; he'd been skittish about his new abilities and they'd agreed to give him some space. She didn't know how much Daniel, Blaise or anyone else knew – or didn't know – about his abilities, and the day without memories was a blur. She'd leave it general unless Blaise remembered Jon's sudden disappearing acts and Doctor-induced-telepathic-headaches.

(All our secrets are out,) Ami realized abruptly. Strangely, it was comforting and not panic inducing.
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