designedtoparty | 013 ∞ AUDIO

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013 ∞ AUDIO

[Nathan is curled up in bed, so his voice is slightly muffled by his covers.]

Okay, so is anyone else getting any more of those pains that were going on before we managed to get rid of those harpies? Or am I the lucky winner here? [He says 'we'. In reality he didn't do anything to help.]

Fuck. I think this actually feels worse than getting impaled to begin with.

[A pause and some creaking as Nathan shifts on his mattress.]

I think there's still bird shit in my bed. Those bastards better not have given me bird flu, or something.

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Whatever does the job. Gin'll do.

[Dulcie is sitting at the end of Nathan's bed, the bottle of gin clutched in her hand.]

How bad is it?

[Nathan scrambles up, grimacing as he attempts it too quickly.]

Pretty bad. I'd say I've had worse, but I think this is about as bad as it gets.

Then I feel less bad about stealing these for you.

[She digs into her pocket and comes out with a bottle of T3s.]

I figured you hadn't had time to go to the hospital, since you didn't even wash your sheets. Which, by the way, ew.

[It doesn't stop her from stretching out beside him, bird poo sheets and all.]

You stole things for me?

[He sounds strangely touched by that, taking the bottle and inspecting it.]

Don't worry about hospital. Campbell's going for me. And I found someone to do my washing until I'm feeling better.

You little bitch. You have everyone wrapped around your little immortal finger, don't you?

[She grins and punches him lightly on the arm.]

Owwwwwwww.

[He pouts, clutching his arm like she punched him much harder than she actually did.] Who're you calling little, anyway?

[Dulcie pulls at the sleeve of his t-shirt to give a long, loud, wet smack on his upper arm.]

Mmmmwa!

Fine, then. You're a very large, long, erect, and capable bitch.

[Okay, fine. He can almost look amused at that, popping a couple of T3s in his mouth and washing them down with gin. He then settles down into the bed and shakes the T3 bottle at her.]

The fuck are these, anyway? I've never even heard of them.

They're always giving them to people at hospitals when they've had tonsils or appendices out, or whatever. Figured they must be pretty good.

[Dulcie squirms a bit on the bed and finds a comb under her. She wriggles it out from under her and tosses it on the floor.]

I didn't know you even owned one of these.

Oh. Cool.

[Nathan snorts, wriggling closer to her.]

What, you don't think I comb my hair? How else do you think I keep it so remarkably well maintained?

I'm just surprised a comb goes through it.

[Dulcie squirms some more, too, until her chin is resting on top of Nathan aforementioned mop of hair.]

Does it feel any better, yet?

The comb'll usually do it. There's a brush somewhere, though.

[Nathan takes a careful sip from the gin, although he still manages to slop it given the position. Then he offers the bottle up to Dulcie. He does feel pretty awful, but he's kind of acting as pathetic as possible for the sake of snuggles.]

No.

[Dulcie reaches over and manages to place the bottle back on the floor. The gin isn't enough to get her drunk, and she'd rather not right now anyway. She wriggles one arm so that it's around Nathan's shoulder and presses her cheek against his hair.]

I can help you fall asleep. If you want to sleep right now.

[Pout (...not that she can see it). That was not an invitation to put the alcohol out of his reach.]

Okay. So long as you promise not to hit me over the head, or brutally murder me, or anything.

[Dulcie starts carding her fingers through his hair. Nathan, you may feel yourself getting veeeeeeery sleepy.]

[Nathan sighs, rolling to drape an arm around her. Running her fingers through his hair doesn't feel like it should be this effective, but he can already feel himself drifting off.]

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013 ∞ AUDIO

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