Eve had been from one coast to the other in a short span of a week, and even that seemed surreal to her. In the days of working for Wolfram and Hart that sort of travel was easier... fast jets... realms of transdimensional travel, and the White Room made jet-lag something of the past. It seemed sort of pedestrian of her to travel through airports
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When he'd taken a couple of small swallows, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "While you were out of town. Boscoe screwed me over...sent me for a demidemon with Belkis Blood. I'm almost outta the woods, though...first time I've puked in a day or two." He paused, blinking. "Least I think so. I been stuck with my head in the toilet so often the last friggin' week it's hard to remember."
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Her hands went to behind his neck, locking her fingers as his forehead pressed to hers, "So trying to keep this from me was for what? To spare me from the puking? Cause so didn't succeed on that one." Her hands shifted against his neck, threading through his hair a bit, "So how about we forget the food for now, I go pack it all up and instead you crash on the couch with a bucket near your head something action in the DVD player and me along your back?"
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When she mentioned a scenario where she was essentially playing girlfriend/nursemaid to him, he couldn't help but sigh...damn it, the whole thing warmed him in ways that nothing ever had, but it also made him cringe just a little. He just...wasn't used to being fussed over.
"How 'bout you forget I'm puking up poison," he countered, wrapping his arms around her waist, "pack up *most* of the food while we pop in that DVD and you nibble downwind, *then* curl up along my back?"
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