(Untitled)

Aug 05, 2006 19:04

It was still raining, and Clark was standing in it. If doing such was ill-advised, he either didn't seem to notice or care. His dark hair was plastered down over his forehead and rainwater ran in rivulets down the planes of his face and neck. The sky was still thick with dark clouds, and he was standing just outside the front door to the ( Read more... )

anita blake, cameron watanabe, clark kent, becky, plot: hurricane

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green_watanabe August 6 2006, 01:14:31 UTC
Clark might have been careful to not hit people, but Cam was tired and preoccupied. A bump into a vertible wall of flesh and wet fabric broke him out of his reverie, and with a blink he recognized the face he was staring up into.

"Are you serious?" he asked, face contorting in incredulity. "You fight me to leave the clinic in a hospital gown just to turn around and walk outside during the tail end of a hurricane? Is flying in the face of medical sense fun for you?"

He still suspected that there really was something wrong with this guy, and maybe not just in the physical sense. Whether he was psychotic or not, ill or not, standing around soaking wet wouldn't do any good. "Do you know where the towels are?" he queried tiredly.

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only_son August 6 2006, 01:23:29 UTC
Clark had determined during their last meeting that Cam was rather high-strung. He hated that he might have wound him up further, but he couldn't expect the young man to quite understand where he was coming from. Looking down at him, Clark's expression was caught somewhere between infinite patience and concern.

"Ah, yes, thank you. Unless they've been moved from the laundry room." He'd purposely ignored the first questions, and if things went according to plan, Cam wouldn't press the matter.

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green_watanabe August 6 2006, 01:35:18 UTC
Where he was coming from? As in, going from risking your life daily to save the world to forced island holiday, sans powers? Clark'd be surprised. But he definitely appeared to be handling it far better than Cam had.

Cam sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Sorry. The storm's got me wound up and ... things," he said vaguely. The missing persons list the IPD had compiled was a longer than Cam would have liked, and it annoyed him that he couldn't do anything about it. Again. "They shouldn't have moved, but with all the people here, there might not be any clean ones."

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only_son August 6 2006, 01:56:15 UTC
"Things," Clark repeated, and offered a sympathetic smile. He was making a puddle in the middle of the floor and hoped that if Cam had another of his already-infamous rants prepared, he might do it while Clark was locating a towel.

"I think I'll go find those towels now," he added pleasantly, and nodded down the hallway towards the stairs.

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green_watanabe August 6 2006, 03:22:39 UTC
Cam's eyes narrowed slightly as Clark echoed his words. He didn't take well to sympathy. Too often it was actually pity, and very rarely was it genuine. "Things," he repeated icily. "Like people getting lost out in that mess, and you making a hazard area out of the hallway." Because Cam did notice that puddle.

He sighed and followed after Clark. Half of him expected to see no clean towels available in the laundry room, and then have to volunteer his towel for Clark to use. The other half expected to find towels so he could mop up that puddle.

"So, other than splashing around gayly during a hurricane, how have you been settling in to all this?" It was in his nature to take care of things that annoyed him.

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