Who: Hayley Stark, Nick Naylor, and Wichita. Semi-open. Feel free to ping me on AIM if you'd like to thread.
Where: The infirmary -- might segue into the bar.
When: Af few days after
Wichita's incident, as she's getting ready to leave the infirmary.
Warnings: N/A
She was having trouble packing her backpack so she could leave the infirmary, no matter how premature it might be. Her arms were stiff from the burns that were healing and the bandages she'd wrapped a little too tightly around the problem areas. There weren't too many blistering areas, thankfully, but she still hated the limited mobility. Next time she'd actually ask McCoy for help instead of doing it herself.
She took a bottle off of the table next to her bed, reflecting fondly on Jax for a moment. He was great to bring her a bottle of whiskey -- she had to remember to get him back. She thought better of disposing it in the trash where anyone could see it, so she put it in her bag to get rid of later. She began to fiddle with her new pistol, having no idea how to load the clip. She made sure to turn on the safety since her hands weren't exactly steady.