You played it for her, you can play it for me.
WHO: Raven, Rimmer, other Titans if you want to?
WHERE: Titans Tower sick bay.
WHEN: Valentine's Day.
WARNINGS: Schmoop. Derp. Acres of sugar-induced vomitatiousness.
SUMMARY: Somebody's finally decided to pull his head out of his arse and take everybody's advice to wake up his lady love.
FORMAT: Bitsy's Haus of Teal Deer.
For the last forty-eight hours or so, he'd been perched on that uncomfortable plastic folding chair next to her bed. He didn't say much, or eat much, or do much. He slept when his body finally collapsed into exhaustion, with his head on the bed next to her, still seated in that chair. He was still in his suit he'd worn to work on Friday. Had he been entirely human, he would have had a two-day growth of stubble and dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. As it was, he just looked rumpled as opposed to flat-out smegging exhausted.
He was annoyed and upset. Everybody telling him to kiss Raven, as if that would wake her up! What was this, some sort of stupid Disney movie?! It was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, and he'd been in the City for a year. This one stood out even against Godzilla wrecking the place, it really did. And the topper was that Lister seemed to be going along with the gag, the smeghead. Apparently everybody in the City had confused Valentine's Day with April Fools. (He was studiously ignoring the wind-up now that Lister had been snogging Dr. Horrible in public. Git. Having him on at such a time! He'd pay for that, he really would.)
God, he'd had such grand plans for this day. He'd made reservations at Atelier, with cocktails at the Star Bar first. And tickets to go see Memphis. It was going to be like their London trip in microcosm, here and comfortable at home. She'd never had a proper Valentine's Day before either, and he wanted to wow her. Heh. "Love is a social sickness invented by bank managers to make you overdrawn." Not too far off the mark, really. But he'd finally learned that money was no object when it came to her. And now...now she was sound asleep, missing the day, and god only knew when she'd wake up. And he was worried sick.
"Oh, Raven..."
Taking her fingers in his, he pressed her hand to his face, sighing a bit. She'd said this sort of thing would happen, where she'd be injured, or in the hospital, and he would have to deal with it again. But he hadn't expected it to be so soon after her last hospital stay. Why did he let her out of his sight? The one day, the one day he let her go fetch lunch on her own, this happened. Clearly his promise to protect her had been broken, and this was his fault. His fault, his fault...
Tiredly, he turned his face slightly and pressed his lips to the center of her palm, out of habit. His exhaustion-pickled brain finally throttled the superego into submission, and the id demanded comfort.
"I love you," he whispered against her hand. And then...god, to hell with it. All dubious consent issues aside (which was another reason he wasn't doing this; after Yvonne McGruder, he was now all too touchy about being with a girl when they were...incapacitated in some form or another), he leaned down to her face and...
And...
Damn it all. He hesitated. What if this didn't work? What if he made it worse? What if she was really sick and not afflicted by whatever it was that was happening in this City? He didn't know if he could handle the disappointment. But...but what if she was? What if this was entirely preventable and he was just being a smeghead?
But being this close to her, and seeing her sleeping face, the pale pink of her eyelids, the lacework of her hair across the pillow, her mouth hanging slightly slack in her sleep, made him finally just throw up his mental hands and go for it.
"Please, wake up, Raven. Please?"
Leaning in closer, he touched his lips to hers, giving her the most tender kiss he possibly could, under the circumstances.
WHERE: Titans Tower sick bay.
WHEN: Valentine's Day.
WARNINGS: Schmoop. Derp. Acres of sugar-induced vomitatiousness.
SUMMARY: Somebody's finally decided to pull his head out of his arse and take everybody's advice to wake up his lady love.
FORMAT: Bitsy's Haus of Teal Deer.
For the last forty-eight hours or so, he'd been perched on that uncomfortable plastic folding chair next to her bed. He didn't say much, or eat much, or do much. He slept when his body finally collapsed into exhaustion, with his head on the bed next to her, still seated in that chair. He was still in his suit he'd worn to work on Friday. Had he been entirely human, he would have had a two-day growth of stubble and dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. As it was, he just looked rumpled as opposed to flat-out smegging exhausted.
He was annoyed and upset. Everybody telling him to kiss Raven, as if that would wake her up! What was this, some sort of stupid Disney movie?! It was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, and he'd been in the City for a year. This one stood out even against Godzilla wrecking the place, it really did. And the topper was that Lister seemed to be going along with the gag, the smeghead. Apparently everybody in the City had confused Valentine's Day with April Fools. (He was studiously ignoring the wind-up now that Lister had been snogging Dr. Horrible in public. Git. Having him on at such a time! He'd pay for that, he really would.)
God, he'd had such grand plans for this day. He'd made reservations at Atelier, with cocktails at the Star Bar first. And tickets to go see Memphis. It was going to be like their London trip in microcosm, here and comfortable at home. She'd never had a proper Valentine's Day before either, and he wanted to wow her. Heh. "Love is a social sickness invented by bank managers to make you overdrawn." Not too far off the mark, really. But he'd finally learned that money was no object when it came to her. And now...now she was sound asleep, missing the day, and god only knew when she'd wake up. And he was worried sick.
"Oh, Raven..."
Taking her fingers in his, he pressed her hand to his face, sighing a bit. She'd said this sort of thing would happen, where she'd be injured, or in the hospital, and he would have to deal with it again. But he hadn't expected it to be so soon after her last hospital stay. Why did he let her out of his sight? The one day, the one day he let her go fetch lunch on her own, this happened. Clearly his promise to protect her had been broken, and this was his fault. His fault, his fault...
Tiredly, he turned his face slightly and pressed his lips to the center of her palm, out of habit. His exhaustion-pickled brain finally throttled the superego into submission, and the id demanded comfort.
"I love you," he whispered against her hand. And then...god, to hell with it. All dubious consent issues aside (which was another reason he wasn't doing this; after Yvonne McGruder, he was now all too touchy about being with a girl when they were...incapacitated in some form or another), he leaned down to her face and...
And...
Damn it all. He hesitated. What if this didn't work? What if he made it worse? What if she was really sick and not afflicted by whatever it was that was happening in this City? He didn't know if he could handle the disappointment. But...but what if she was? What if this was entirely preventable and he was just being a smeghead?
But being this close to her, and seeing her sleeping face, the pale pink of her eyelids, the lacework of her hair across the pillow, her mouth hanging slightly slack in her sleep, made him finally just throw up his mental hands and go for it.
"Please, wake up, Raven. Please?"
Leaning in closer, he touched his lips to hers, giving her the most tender kiss he possibly could, under the circumstances.