(Untitled)

[heatedrod]

One of the nicer things about being able to set yourself on fire that nobody really talked about? The ability to control body fat. It was a completely vain sort of perk, but Johnny loved it. Between that and fighting evil wannabe supervillains on a constant basis, he'd always been in perfect shape

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[filmstarbeauty]

Most of the time Blair Waldorf didn't believe in karma. It was for suckers. She used to not believe in jogging either, but things changed.

Idly blowing a wayward curl out of her eyes, she bit her lip in focus as the signpost came into view. Six steps later her concentration quickly withered at the sight that wasn't exactly bad. With any luck, this one would be just as flaming as the rest of them. But that didn't mean she couldn't look.

Just as she stepped, her ankle twisted slightly while the rest of her momentum kept going forward. "Oow! Oh my holy god!" she yelped, as she landed right on her ass.

[heatedrod]

So, hey, there was another thing that sucked about not having his power-- he wasn't even fast enough to help keep a girl only a few feet away from falling over. What kind of super hero was he when he couldn't even manage the polite things?

Regardless, Johnny was over at her side with a hand out. "Wow, hey, you okay?"

[filmstarbeauty]

While her physical injury might have been minor to non-existent, the injury to her pride was critical. A born and raised Upper East Side princess did not do well in situations of shame and distress, no matter what sort of public she was dealing with.

Though having the Object of Distraction, gay or otherwise, come to her rescue didn't hurt. Not that she needed it. Wasn't she playing I Am Woman Hear Me Roar or something like that these days?

Frowning slightly, she gave her foot a bit of a wiggle and nodded before looking at the Shirtless Wonder. "Not permanently damaged, so I'll live. Has anyone ever told you that you should come with a sign?"

[heatedrod]

Johnny crouched down beside her just in case, and broke into a grin at the compliment. "Only about a dozen times a week," he said, his own version of modesty. Sort of. "Want a hand up?"

[filmstarbeauty]

Oh, he was cocky. How nice for him.

Cocky guys were like kryptonite for her, if she admitted to knowing what kryptonite was and to having things like a weakness. But Christopher Reeves was dead and weaknesses were for poor people.

Holding out her hand she smiled slight as she shrugged. "It's the least you can do since you're kind of why I fell in the first place," she said. "But I wouldn't want to assume you're a gentleman or something."

[heatedrod]

"I'm a gentleman as long as you want me to be," Johnny replied, happy to be anything she wanted in return for the ego stroking.

He helped her up, his free hand hovering near her waist. "My name's Johnny."

[filmstarbeauty]

"Down boy," Blair told him, wagging the index finger of her free hand. It was kind of like dealing with less skeezy Chuck. Johnny here probably had just as high of a model count in his past. And probably just many people who wanted to see him crippled somewhere for his smugness.

It was wonderful.

"Blair." Smiling coyly, she tilted her head. "Thanks for the rescue and the view. Definitely worth taking a tumble."

[heatedrod]

"Sorry about that," Johnny said, though he wasn't. Not really, and he was liking Blair already. She reminded him of a lot of women he'd known around New York. "I'll be sure to make up a sign next time, just for you."

[filmstarbeauty]

"I am going to hold you to that," Blair gently poked him in the chest for emphasis. Who cared if this was a total stranger on an island with a relatively small population? The worst that would happen was that somehow Serena would find out that she hadn't bitten off the head of some guy and sucked out his insides like a Black Widow. Which would have gross and she couldn't even believe that she had thought that.

"So you better break out the arts and crafts skills right away."