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crossing_lostrp2006-08-21 10:05 pm
starborn-scribe.livejournal.com) wrote in crossing_lostrp2006-08-21 10:05 pm
Entry tags:
[Scott] Day 20 (morning): Back to Reality (open tag)
The heavenly aromas of coffee, bacon, and eggs gradually roused Scott from a deep sleep. (Ami's making breakfast,) Scott thought muzzily. Something about that wasn't right, though. Eventually he realized what: Ami couldn't be making breakfast because she was curled up beside him.
Grinning, Scott hugged his wife closer. Ami stirred slightly, sighing contentedly. Nevertheless a sense of wrongness nagged at him. Scott tried but failed to open his eyes. (Why am I so tired--)
"Yes, Dr. Jackson, I was going to start another pot of coffee!"
(McKay?) The man's voice was like nails on a blackboard, which helped Scott claw his way to consciousness.
"'Save the world. Make more coffee.' I have to do everything around here," McKay groused. His voice was somewhat muffled, as well as the sounds of cabinets opening and closing and water running from a faucet.
The past few days' events rushed back to Scott. He groaned, which made Ami whimper slightly. /It's all right,/ he soothed. Her emotions evened out as she calmed. The fact that he felt anything at all from her was a good sign. (She's recovering. Sleeping, not comatose. Thank god.)
Scott carefully untangled himself from Ami, glancing around as he did so. They were still on a mattress in a corner of the cafeteria. Since the bunker was underground he couldn't tell if it was day or night. Judging from how hungry he was -- and how badly he had to pee -- Scott figured he'd been out for a long while.
After making sure that Ami was stable and sleeping soundly, Scott stiffly got to his feet. "Good morning," someone said.
Grinning, Scott hugged his wife closer. Ami stirred slightly, sighing contentedly. Nevertheless a sense of wrongness nagged at him. Scott tried but failed to open his eyes. (Why am I so tired--)
"Yes, Dr. Jackson, I was going to start another pot of coffee!"
(McKay?) The man's voice was like nails on a blackboard, which helped Scott claw his way to consciousness.
"'Save the world. Make more coffee.' I have to do everything around here," McKay groused. His voice was somewhat muffled, as well as the sounds of cabinets opening and closing and water running from a faucet.
The past few days' events rushed back to Scott. He groaned, which made Ami whimper slightly. /It's all right,/ he soothed. Her emotions evened out as she calmed. The fact that he felt anything at all from her was a good sign. (She's recovering. Sleeping, not comatose. Thank god.)
Scott carefully untangled himself from Ami, glancing around as he did so. They were still on a mattress in a corner of the cafeteria. Since the bunker was underground he couldn't tell if it was day or night. Judging from how hungry he was -- and how badly he had to pee -- Scott figured he'd been out for a long while.
After making sure that Ami was stable and sleeping soundly, Scott stiffly got to his feet. "Good morning," someone said.
[Faith] Morning Thoughts ([no tag])
She stretched leisurely, indulging in the feeling of a real mattress beneath her. Faith wouldn't get too used to it - bunking down inside this place every night would get real claustrophobic after a while, and she'd had enough of being surrounded by institutional gray and green for a good long time - nope, the occassional bed was fine. But she'd stick to the outdoors.
Of course, thinking about the bed called to mind *why* she was in a bed at all, and *that* jolted her awake.
"The fuck?" Faith sat up, looking around, her question directed to the empty room. "No way. No way." It wasn't the absence of Dean that bothered her -- that was actually a relief -- it was the realization that she'd actually spent the whole night with him. NOt that it hadn't been fun -- (A helluva lot of fun) -- but that just wasn't her.
Get some, get gone. That had always been her philosophy. Right up there after "Want, Take, Have."
Spending the night?
Strangely not as freaky as she imagined it would be once she wrapped her head around it. It meant something -- she'd trusted Dean enough to stay. Hell, she trusted herself enough to stay.
Faith didn't want to think about it too hard at the moment, so she shoved the thought aside.
(Not that I'm gonna make this any kind of habit. He'd better not think this is going to be a tradition,) Faith thought as she flopped back onto her back. A tumble and a roll here and there were all well and good, but she was so completely not Little Miss Domestic and wasn't about to pretend to be. She wasn't ready to play house yet, and really she wasn't polished and shined up enough to be anyone's girlfriend.
Fuck buddy? Now that was another matter entirely.
Faith rolled over on her side and closed her eyes, deciding to focus on the fact that she didn't have to watch her back or feel afraid.
She wasn't ready to admit it, but she liked the feeling.
ooc: redirect