Who: Jo Harvelle (AU) & Dr. Leonard McCoy Where: Sector West; the gym What: Letting off some steam When: Tonight Rating: PG 13 Status: In Progress
Sweat blurred her vision a little as she drove her fists into the punching bag suspended from the ceiling, but she didn't pause to wipe or blink it away. Annoyance, frustration, and sheer pissiness kept her frame taut as lean muscles rippled under her tank top with every movement, hardened by more hunting experience than any other Jo Harvelle in camp. She was getting tired of her best friends all showing up and automatically being surprised to see her alive. Sure, the other Jos she'd talked to seemed to all have died, more or less, but honestly, did every single person she meet have to have such little faith in her?
Her shoulder hurt where the dinosaur had bit her, but she ignored it as she did the sweat. It was stitched, thanks to the nurse, Petrelli, and had started healing. She'd even gone back a couple times to get the bandage changed, not wanting it to become infected. God only knew what the hell kind of diseases there might be in this stupid prehistoric period. A grunt escaped her as she gave the bag one final, hard punch, then held up a hand to catch it when it swung back at her. For a long moment, she just stared at it, breathing hard, before finally raising an arm to her forehead to brush the sweat away. The doors behind her opened, but she didn't turn, not yet...too be honest, she didn't fully care who it was walking in.