Post-Duel (for Valen, or Jess, and really anyone else)

[thornofcamorr]

Locke isn't bleeding nearly so much as he was anymore, but he's certainly not looking great. In fact, he looks almost as bad as he did when he first arrived, pale and fever-sweaty and generally unwell. He's alive, though, which is a hell of a lot more than he expected. When he comes around (eventually), he might even be glad of that

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[tomboy_22]

Well

[tomboy_22]

Like that's realistic at all. She moves over to the dresser, prepares a glass of water and hands him three aspirins.

"You really don't have much use for your pinky, do you?" Dryly, but that's her way of trying to de-dramatize.

God. They're all going to need BUCKETS of dry humor, at this rate. And happy pills.

[thornofcamorr]

He doesn't hesitate before popping them back gratefully with a brief swallow of water. Of course it's not realistic, but Locke is Locke.

He gives her his best innocent look. "What's that?"

[tomboy_22]

“What’s what?” she asks. “I just gave you aspirin. Should dull it out. Don’t have too much if you don’t wanna bleed to death.”

[thornofcamorr]

He makes a face. "Not particularly in my life's plans." And then focuses on her. Perhaps with a bit of effort. "The bit about the pinky."

[tomboy_22]

"Hun," she says, "don't worry about it. You get a freebie because my typist is a huge flake who misinterpreted you."

She sits by, and says, "I have something else for you." A mischievous grin. Poor guy has enough on his mind keep up the pretense, collapse later.

"You want it?"

[thornofcamorr]

"Ummm. Depends. Is it painful?" Locke gives her a little grin.

[tomboy_22]

She ponders. "Shouldn't be. He stinks a bit, though."

Another grin. She likes her Spade.

[thornofcamorr]

Locke kind of laughs. A little. "Hey, so do I, currently."

[tomboy_22]

She crinkles her nose. "He's a smoker. Now, don't go being rude - you owe him the happy pills, ok?"

Then a grin. Still acting. Lucivar Lucivar Lucivar Lucivar .

"Don't worry. I footed the tab already." Don't ask how.

[thornofcamorr]

An eyebrow, then, mildly, "You know me. I'm always the picture of politeness."

[tomboy_22]

A teasing frown. "Yeah. Sure."

A pause. Just a little snarky, but not much. "Oh. What name shall I give, good sir?"

[thornofcamorr]

A thoughtful pause, and then he gives her a grin. "Lukas is good," but the glint in his eyes shows he's joking.

[tomboy_22]

"I'd really prefer you didn't lie to him. He's good a knowing those things, and you'd lose a chance at making a friend."

She means it, though there's affection in her eyes.

[thornofcamorr]

"Then Locke is just fine. It's as close to the truth as I'm likely to get." He never uses the other name. Ever.

[tomboy_22]

The typist really understands that position, we promise you.

"Ok, sweetie, I'll be right back, with an order of dry humor, just for you."

And out she is, to get Sam, who hopefully had time to get over the Lucivar news.