Goes With the Job (Sullivan/OFC)
“Where did you get that?”
Questing fingertips hover over angry marks on his thigh, half-way between his knee and buttock but Sullivan just growls sleepily into the pillow. He really shouldn’t have called Ellie, one night stands are called that for a reason after all.
“Afghanistan, knife…” he murmurs. It’s not exactly a lie, except it happened on an op near London and to Ryan, but he introduced himself as Tom Ryan anyway, so he figures it’s true enough for 8am in the bloody morning.
“This looks more like a bite than a stab wound to me,” Ellie sounds way too sure of herself for it to be just a guess. Just his luck to shag a vet, Sullivan thinks under the pounding headache. To shag her twice, actually… What had he been thinking?
Once is fun, twice is a relationship, he always said and he certainly isn’t looking for one of those, especially not with a woman who holds dogs’ paws as they are put down and then cries with their owners. The image is enough to make him nauseous, though to be fair, it doesn’t take much for that on a morning like this. That last refill was certainly not necessary.
“Ok, I confess, dinosaur bit me,” Sullivan yawns and tries very hard to ignore the ringing laugh that fills the room at his words.
“You’re funny,” Ellie says and snuggles up next to him. “But just you wait, Tom, I’ll squeeze the truth out of you.”
Sullivan offers a fleeting half-smile, already drifting off to sleep again, trying not to remember the blinding pain as the Whateverthefuck-o-saurus sunk its sharp teeth into his flesh. The yellowish purple bruises never faded completely and that ‘lovebite from pretty Miss Dino’ joke in the showers never gets boring, but it’s still way too early in the morning after one hell of a crappy week (thanks, Mrs C.) for laughing at his own expense. Besides, after sleep he really needs to figure out how to throw out Ellie with as little damage to his flat and his own person as possible.
Questing fingertips hover over angry marks on his thigh, half-way between his knee and buttock but Sullivan just growls sleepily into the pillow. He really shouldn’t have called Ellie, one night stands are called that for a reason after all.
“Afghanistan, knife…” he murmurs. It’s not exactly a lie, except it happened on an op near London and to Ryan, but he introduced himself as Tom Ryan anyway, so he figures it’s true enough for 8am in the bloody morning.
“This looks more like a bite than a stab wound to me,” Ellie sounds way too sure of herself for it to be just a guess. Just his luck to shag a vet, Sullivan thinks under the pounding headache. To shag her twice, actually… What had he been thinking?
Once is fun, twice is a relationship, he always said and he certainly isn’t looking for one of those, especially not with a woman who holds dogs’ paws as they are put down and then cries with their owners. The image is enough to make him nauseous, though to be fair, it doesn’t take much for that on a morning like this. That last refill was certainly not necessary.
“Ok, I confess, dinosaur bit me,” Sullivan yawns and tries very hard to ignore the ringing laugh that fills the room at his words.
“You’re funny,” Ellie says and snuggles up next to him. “But just you wait, Tom, I’ll squeeze the truth out of you.”
Sullivan offers a fleeting half-smile, already drifting off to sleep again, trying not to remember the blinding pain as the Whateverthefuck-o-saurus sunk its sharp teeth into his flesh. The yellowish purple bruises never faded completely and that ‘lovebite from pretty Miss Dino’ joke in the showers never gets boring, but it’s still way too early in the morning after one hell of a crappy week (thanks, Mrs C.) for laughing at his own expense. Besides, after sleep he really needs to figure out how to throw out Ellie with as little damage to his flat and his own person as possible.