(no subject)
=XF= 202 |Sal| - Residences - Chemekata Military Base
The front door opens into a wide and airy space lit by full-length windows on the far wall. The California mountains spread lush beyond the glass, with the reservoir a glitter of light. To one side stands a coat closet, and to the other, a watercloset. A few steps further in, the kitchen curves around with a small stove, refrigerator, and sink. The counter wraps to form an island, beyond which the rest of the apartment is visible. The living area is wide-set with full length windows allowing California sunshine to spill across the thick carpet. Glass doors slide open, leading out onto a small stone terrace.
An alcove just past the kitchen counter opens to two rooms: one is a spare room, given over to any number of uses, while the other is the master suite, startlingly luxurious in choice of bathroom fixtures. The view from the large window in the bedroom is marvelous, sharing the same prospect as the living room.
It's never too early for beer. One hopes, anyway. Kelsey seems very aware that cultivating her friendship with Sal is going to fall entirely on her shoulders, and also that beer buys her entrance. So she's back with another six-pack for some morning chat. KNOCK KNOCK.
KNOCK KNOCK. Unfortunately for Kelsey, she is waiting there a while. Eventually, from the other side of the door, there is a characteristicly bitchy, "Fuck off!"
Hmmm. This is rather unexpected. Kelsey hesitates a moment before trying the door. Finding it unlocked, she opens it juuuust a crack. "I have beer?" she offers, eyeing the small sliver of room she can see but not sticking her head in just yet.
Contrary to popular belief, the mention of beer does not send Sal heading for the hills to pray to the porcelain god; she does, however, look squinty and vaguely green, and presses the back of her hand to her mouth for a moment. "Think I'd better pass," she says with a great deal of reluctance. "Caught some kind of super-bug or something--"
That seems like as much of an invitation as she's going to get, and Kelsey finally pokes her head in. Sal is very clearly not well, and Kelsey frowns and goes ahead and lets herself in, shutting the door behind it. "Fuckin' hell, ye look like shite." It's affectionately said. Kind've. She sets the beer down on the nearest flat surface--someday Sal /won't/ feel like shit--and approaches the other woman. Slowly. "How long ye been feelin' like this?"
"Couple days," Sal admits after a bit of focused thought. "It'll likely pass soon-- must be somethin' nasty to get me down, though, so-- keep your distance." The beer on the table is eyed longingly, but her color is not so much with the improving. Alas.
Kelsey frowns at the orders, but obliges, instead carrying the beer to the fridge, where it will at least be out of sight. "Ye been pukin', then?" she asks, voice carrying if necessary, as she takes the beer from its paper container to set in the fridge.
"Bit. Seems t'hit most if I try to eat--" Or, you know, in the morning. "Haven't been sick like this in years."
This is the part where Kelsey proceeds to /ignore/ the previous orders and walk right up to Sal to try and get a hand on her forehead. LET HER MOTHER YOU. "Ye should probably stay in bed if ye feel so shitty."
This is the part where Sal battles Kelsey's hands away like an irritated middleschooler faking it to get out of class. She is, surprisingly, not at all running a fever. "I'll get over it. Don't eat, don't puke, can still work--" Bat, bat bat at the hands. Bat.
"Jesus, ye're pukin' up ev'rythin' ye eat an' ye think ye're fine for work?" Ninja hands! Let her fever-assess! "Dinnae make me tell the clinic. They'll be worse than me. Dammit, Sal, I'm just tryin' tae see if ye have a fever!"
The threat of the clinic is enough to make Sal let Kelsey get a hand on her forhead, though the older woman glares something mighty. Good thing for Kelsey that the standard model Sal does not come equipped with LASER EYES or HEAT VISION, or there would be one less interfering agent on the grounds. "Don't see where it's any of your business, McGee."
"Just made it my business, Peanut." WHAT UP. Kelsey frowns when she finally gets a hand to Sal, shifting it to her cheek for another moment before removing it. "No fever at all." That's funny. "Maybe it was somethin' ye ate?"
Now the glare is transferred to the hand; Sal goes mildly crosseyed with it, trying to track it as it is /on/ her /cheek/, what the fuck. "Food poisoning," Sal supposes morosely. "Figures. I manage to be fine the whole time I'm on leave, and get food poisoning once I'm here."
"Well, either that or ye're pregnant," Kelsey says with a laugh. "Cannae imagine ye gettin' the flu without a fever. Ye drinkin' plenty o' fluids?" Yes, she is obnoxious.
"You're just a laugh a minute," Sal says, equally obnoxious. She does not track days backward, but she probably should be. "Do I look like I've suddenly gone stupid to you? Course I am."
"Just the way me mum made me." Kelsey grins broadly, hands settling back on her hips. "Ye dinnae look stupid, but ye look stubborn. Plenty o' smart people are absolute shite when it comes tae takin' care o' themselves when they're sick." Pause. "If ye are, I mean. Sick." She snickers. This hypothetical idea is so hilarious.
"Don't make me toss you out on your ass," Sal threatens, but there is little heat behind it; she will never /admit/ to it, but she almost maybe doesn't entirely mind Kelsey's presence. Maybe. She flicks a dismissive wave toward the younger agent, and makes her way toward the kitchen. Her color is improving! Somewhat markedly. Once arrived in the kitchen, she opens the ie box to reveal: beer. beer. beer. energy drinks. more beer. Somewhere at the back, there is a lone and mournful bottle of water, which is fished out and opened. "See?"
"How responsible of ye," Kelsey says, though her tone is unconvinced. "Why dinnae ye take it back tae bed, then?" Where she should be sleeping and resting.
Sal waggles the bottle, and frowns. "I have an hour before I'm scheduled for anything. If it'll get your pretty little face out of my apartment, I'll go lie down for it."
Kelsey frowns, but acquiesces with a shrug. "I ken I'm not goin' tae get ye tae lie down for the entire day, so deal." She stays, though, watching. GET IN BED.
Sal crosses her arms over her chest, bottle dangling from her fingers. She is not moving until Kelsey does!
Sigh. "Fine. I'm trustin' ye." With one last look, Kelsey turns to the door. But then she stops, pausing, and glances back. "Ye did use protection, right?"
Sal /rolls her eyes/. "Course w--" there is another /glare/. "Get out, McGee."
"Love ye too, Peanut," the redhead calls dryly before finally making her exit.
Totally BFFs.