Brennan walked briskly down the hallway, not wanting to meet any 'interesting' people during the walk from Scully's room to her own. She'd had enough awkward interactions for one lifetime since arriving, and had decided that staying out of the way as much as possible was probably the best way to avoid conflict.
So she was pretty disappointed when she came across a still figure sprawled across the floor in front of her.
She couldn't ignore it. That wouldn't be right at all. She look around, and seeing no sign of anyone else nearby, she bent down and rolled the body over.
"Oh my god, you reek." she exclaimed. "What have you been doing, bathing in alcohol?" The man was apparently passed out drunk. She prodded him gently, and then harder, getting no response. She was about to slap him across the face, using all her strength, too, when she noticed there was no rise and fall in his chest. She placed a hand at his mouth, feeling there was no breath. Grabbing a wrist, she felt for a pulse... and found none
( ... )
Spike began to come to, drowsily opening his eyes. Urrrgh, I think I'm still drunk. ...Mmm... Suddenly, he had the very distinct feeling that there were lips on his own. He kissed back, wrapping his arms tightly around...whoever it was giving him such an enjoyable wake up call.
"John," he murmured. It had to be. No one else around here was exactly prone to kissing him at all, let alone in bed. So he'd forgiven him after all. He'd probably found the request forms and this was just a thank-you for Spike's little pressie. How did that man get his cheeks so sodding smooth? He ran his hands down to the side of John's chest--Oh. Those definitely weren't John's. He gave 'em a squeeze anyway, then opened his eyes.
Brennan felt the body stir below her and started to pull away, but strong arms prevented her from doing so.
John? Who the hell was that? And why did he think it was her? She tried to get free of his vice-like grip, but he was too strong. Suddenly, she felt hands where no hands should have been.
That was it. He released her and she pulled back with a horrified expression on her face.
Without a second's hesitation, she slapped him hard across the face and scrambled to her feet. "Who am I? Who the hell are you? And why would you call me John? I'm not a man!"
He held his cheek, grinning up at the woman. "Yeah, well, I can see that now." he wavered, trying to keep his balance. He held out his hand for her to shake. "I'm..." he giggled. "Still very, very drunk, apparently." Judging by the fake sun coming in the fake windows to his left, he'd been out for quite some time, too.
Comments 38
So she was pretty disappointed when she came across a still figure sprawled across the floor in front of her.
She couldn't ignore it. That wouldn't be right at all. She look around, and seeing no sign of anyone else nearby, she bent down and rolled the body over.
"Oh my god, you reek." she exclaimed. "What have you been doing, bathing in alcohol?" The man was apparently passed out drunk. She prodded him gently, and then harder, getting no response. She was about to slap him across the face, using all her strength, too, when she noticed there was no rise and fall in his chest. She placed a hand at his mouth, feeling there was no breath. Grabbing a wrist, she felt for a pulse... and found none ( ... )
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"John," he murmured. It had to be. No one else around here was exactly prone to kissing him at all, let alone in bed. So he'd forgiven him after all. He'd probably found the request forms and this was just a thank-you for Spike's little pressie. How did that man get his cheeks so sodding smooth? He ran his hands down to the side of John's chest--Oh. Those definitely weren't John's. He gave 'em a squeeze anyway, then opened his eyes.
He pulled away, confused.
"Who the bloody hell are you?"
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John? Who the hell was that? And why did he think it was her? She tried to get free of his vice-like grip, but he was too strong. Suddenly, she felt hands where no hands should have been.
That was it. He released her and she pulled back with a horrified expression on her face.
Without a second's hesitation, she slapped him hard across the face and scrambled to her feet. "Who am I? Who the hell are you? And why would you call me John? I'm not a man!"
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