The Gym, Sunday Afternoon

[brat_inslayage]

So. Kennedy had heard the radio last night. Part of her was bummed about not getting to go along, but another part of her-- adjacent to if not necessarily the same part that was pummeling the crap out of the heavy bag right now (or trying to; she still wasn't hitting that thing nearly as solidly as she wished she could)-- had a feeling it was a

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[showmetheproof]

Scully was aware that she hadn't worked out enough, lately, so was headed down to the gym to get some decent mat time in. She paused when she saw Kennedy kicking the crap out of the bag, and warily headed over to the free weights.

"Should I ask, or just wait for you to get done?"

[brat_inslayage]

"Do you really wanna ask?" Kennedy's belligerent side was out in full force today, apparently; the words definitely came out with an edge to them, and the crescent kick she aimed at the bag didn't discredit that impression at all. "It's not a talking-about thing. It's a hitting-stuff thing."

...only because hitting things was easier.

[showmetheproof]

Scully held up her hands in surrender, and said, "I won't ask, then. Just wait until the bag is subdued." She dropped her hands and picked up a five-pound weight. "If you do need to talk, I'd be willing to listen. But it doesn't look like time for that."

[brat_inslayage]

"Yeah. Thanks." Kennedy, lashing out with a backhammer fist at the bag, didn't sound all that grateful, though. "Kinda surprised you'd offer, but no big. Doesn't make enough sense to talk about just yet."

Kennedy, you can't pummel the bag until things make sense. It doesn't work that way.

[wesleynotponcy]

Wes had noticed a definite note of unhappiness around campus today, so he was wandering all over the place. Because apparently he wanted to share in that unhappiness? Or something? It was a mystery.

Just when he was about to quit wandering and go read about giraffes in his room, he spotted Kennedy.

"I presume the bag did something to upset you?"

[brat_inslayage]

"It insulted my little sister," Kennedy deadpanned, kicking at the bag again. "Can't have that. Hey, Wes."

[wesleynotponcy]

"Hello," he said, swinging his arms idly. "Does this, ah, have to do with the, er, rescue mission from last night?"

Because he was a creeper and listened to the radio. And also there was the Karla thing.

[brat_inslayage]

He was a Watcher, or had been; Kennedy expected him to keep tabs on these things to a creepifying level.

"Not so much the mission," Kennedy admitted grudgingly. "More the 'what now.'"

[life_inshadow]

It was not a surprise at all that, when Kennedy wasn't in her room, she was in the gym, and Tara stood watching for a bare moment before she spoke up.

"You're going to collapse if you keep going at it like that," she warned. "Hi."

[brat_inslayage]

By this point, Kennedy was pretty damn close to it.

"I was kinda going for that," she admitted, easing off on the bag; a faint smile crossed her face for a moment. "Hey. Should've known you'd find me here."

[life_inshadow]

"You like your routine like that," Tara said with a little shrug. "At least being here is ... productive."

She leaned back against a padded section of wall. "Are you doing okay?"

She didn't ask if Kennedy had heard. It was safe to assume she had.

[brat_inslayage]

"Ask me in the morning; I'm gonna be so sore," Kennedy tried to crack, but it fell short of her usual humor. Also, it was a clear and uncharacteristic avoidance of the question.

"You, uh. You heard too, huh."