cutting_edgex23 | (no subject)

They've done this often enough that she does not even bother to field Steve McQueen.

Bruce will catch him.

Also he is totally responsible for Feeding the Fish. This time.

X demonstrates by feeding the cats and not going near the bloodworms in the fridge.

Because she is terrible.

He does catch him. He doesn't even have to think about it; simply bends as the door opens, and scoops him up into his hand.

'One day,' he says to the cat, 'we'll let you through, and the giant squid will get you. Remember that.'

Steve McQueen just stares at him. Bruce shakes his head, nudges the door closed with his foot and goes to feed the fish.

'You want to go out for dinner later, or order takeout?'

He supposes cooking is also an option, but it's never the first that comes to mind.

X thinks about that while she refills the cats' water dish.

"We can go out. But not to the diner."

She half-turns, watching Bruce over her shoulder.

"They will make us bus tables. Soon."

Pam may have teased X about that.

Perhaps.

'They'd regret asking about five minutes after I started.'

He'd snark at customers, probably. Or start throwing forks at the wall, trying to get them to stick.

He washes his hands after finishing with the bloodworms, then slides his arms around X's waist from behind and puts his chin on her shoulder.

'Indian? Thai?'

She leans back against him, bringing her own arm up to hold his head in place as she rests her cheek against his.

"Ethiopian. It will not be crowded. Tonight."

But she is willing to be persuaded otherwise.

'OK.'

No need to persuade otherwise. As long as he doesn't have to cook it, he's generally fine with what she chooses.

'I'm going to shower.'

Not that he actually moves. There may be a danger of him dozing off on her shoulder.

Or maybe it's just nice like this.

X will give him five minutes.

Then she will escort him to the shower herself.

Just to make sure he does not drown.

Somehow.

But her hand is so niiiice in his hair. Far too nice to move.

...until he becomes aware of his head pushing a bit too heavily against her's, and forces himself to wake up properly.

'OK. OK, going.'

Yeah.

...no, really. Now.

(He drags himself away eventually.)

The sudden weight of his head, even if it is closely followed by his waking himself back up, makes X's hackles prickle.

He cannot escape her supervision.

(Because seriously, getting a concussion while showering is just embarrassing.)

And it is nice.

To share.

This is a kind of sharing he is never going to object to.

As long as it's with her, anyway.

'...this isn't conducive to making me want to sleep, you know.'

Then again, warm water. Fresh sheets.

Difficult.

"Wait fifteen minutes," X says, very seriously.

"Or maybe twenty."

None of this has to take long.

"Or a half hour."

'I can try.'

He thinks he'll probably manage.

Somehow.

"Good."

She is not smug.

At all.

Bruce is as sensible as everyone else when it comes to instructions from X - he does what he's told.

And it's not so difficult when it's in a situation like this.

But if she wants him to stay awake, she'd better be promising to wash his back.

X will trade washing his back -- and his hair -- for him managing to support his own weight until she is done.

She is generous in this fashion.

Her faith in him is a beauteous and wonderful thing. Possibly it is the only reason he (rather admirably) manages to support his own weight for the entire time.

He might lean on her once or twice, it's true, but that's more because he likes touching her than out of any need for help to stand.

X believes his non-verbal protests utterly.

Really.

And she only offers her arm as support when he steps out of the tub because she is polite.

(And concussions in the bathroom still are not the most fun.)

The fact that she then nudges him to lean against the sink while she towel-dries his hair is another entirely practical and no-nonsense choice.

Shh.

And his grin as she dries his hair is also entirely practical and no-nonsense.

...oh wait, no. The other thing.

'I'll get better at this,' he murmurs, eventually.

'Staying awake.'

Adjusting to night hours when he's expected to be around in the day as well just takes a little while, that's all. He hopes.

X finishes drying his hair and starts on her own.

(She's keeping an eye on him, regardless. But wet pillows are no one's friend.)

"Practice helps. Sometimes."

Or so all the evidence that she has been able to collect suggests.

"And when it is not enough, you will come here. Or to Milliways. To sleep. It is more sensible than death.""

Beat.

"Or severe maiming."

Another pause.

"Or having your identity discovered."

Edited 2014-08-24 21:17 (UTC)

'...is it wrong that I can't decide which of those three would be worse?'

He takes the towel off her, and starts to return the favour on her hair.

He hasn't done this before.

It's nice.

X considers that question while Bruce and the towel do their work.

(It is nice.)

"I do not think it is wrong."

She would shrug, but that does not seem important right now.

"That is why you will sleep. And eat."

A pause.

"Even if you are somewhere Alfred cannot remind you. Or me."

He chuckles quietly, lets the towel drop around her shoulders and tugs gently on the ends to pull her in for a quick kiss.

'I'll try. I promise.'

"Good."

She kisses him back, very carefully.

And then, because it is only fair (and important) --

"I promise, too."

Edited 2014-08-24 21:39 (UTC)

'You'd better. If I have to look after myself, so do you.'

It doesn't matter that she heals. Better for her not to be hurt in the first place.

'And hey. That means not letting people like Noriko get to you too, OK? If you can.'

"I will try."

This, too, is a promise.

"But it has not -- had not -- happened like this. Before."

Beat.

"It will be easier. Next time. To remember how to think about it."

She hopes, anyway.

If there has to be a next time.