Wednesday | April 23, 2008 Who: Erin and Wesley When: Wednesday afternoon Where: Infirmary What: Erin got burned by brushing an angel spawn, and doesn't want a scar.
Son of a bitch!
Why did this keep happening? It was like she was a freaking magnet for holy assholes. With a frustrated scowl she stalked toward the infirmary, cradling her left arm against her chest. The ugly blistering wound on her otherwise perfect skin contrasted with the crispness of her outfit. The sultry ice demon was dressed in a fashionable outfit that clashed with the plaid over shirts and jeans of the other students, but she didn't care. Erin liked to dress well, and look fantastic.
Which was why the idea of having a scar was pretty loathsome. She entered the Infirmary with wide, searching eyes, steely grays swiveling in various directions. Alright, who was going to help her? And didn't she need to get a physical, too? She had seem some announcement to that nature. Perhaps she could kill two birds with one stone. Her only real goal was to stop the pain.
To her credit, she didn't whine, or cry, but swallowed the discomfort with twitching eyebrows and a set jaw. It really hurt, but she didn't want to look like a raving little bitch. It wasn't like she was missing an arm. It was just a burn. A long, wide, six inch long blister that was throbbing and ....eugh.
She moved forward like she owned the place until the sound of a single footstep made her pause. She cocked her head, eyebrow arching, and then looked expectant as Wesley made himself visible.
She held up her arm, slinging beautifully styled hair over a milk shoulder, and displayed the scar. "Problem."
It was a slow day in the infirmary. Usually when things got like this he could be found on his moveable desk chair, spinning around and generally making his own fun with the random surgical equipment he had to hand. Today it was syringe wars! Because everyone knew syringes were the most bad-ass of....
In the middle of his sound effects Wesley heard some approaching feet. Luckily the curtain was drawn so they wouldn't be seeing his silly activities. He shifted on his wheely chair, scooting backwards away from the shelter of the curtain and looking towards the girl who was standing looking very expectantly at him. Shit, she was hot. It took him a moment to realise what she was saying before his eyes went to her arm.
Quick on his feet, Wes shoved the chair aside and strode over to her, healer-face on and looking all serious. "Let me take a look," he said softly, offering to take her arm should she hold it to him. "Lemme see what I can do... burn?"
---
"Brushed up against angel-spawn. I'm a full demon," she informed him. It was a bit of a rarity -- so many half-breeds in the school. "Tried to avoid it, but all the new children can't seem to figure out how to walk in a bloody straight line," she snapped, her Kensington accent crisp and annoyed.
"I know it'll heal, but..." I don't want a scar, because they're ugly, and now I have someone I would like to look attractive for at all times.
---
"Actually if my supernatural knowledge is correct, it won't heal too well, so you're right to come to me." If not for his actual shit-hot healing abilities then just so he could get a damn fine highlight for the day. Rubbing at his chin he pretended to study her wound a moment - he didn't really need to, but it was such a simple thing to stitch up cause it was fresh and merely a fleshwound, that she wouldn't be around for long.
He waved his right hand, trying to channel his healing abilities and heat it up. A few glances in her direction, then... "Demon, huh?" he asked casually. "What sort? Glamour demon?" Not too smooth, Wes, try again.
---
Erin arched an eyebrow as her arm relaxed limply in his grip. Her skin was cold to the touch, and dry, like someone who had just stepped out for the paper in the middle of February and rushed back in. She chewed at the inside of her mouth to stop thinking about the pain, then looked up.
"Glamour demon? No, ice. Why would you say glamour?" Her lips pulled up at one corner, gloss catching the light.
---
Score! Wes tried not to celebrate too early just yet, because everything could still backfire quite easily but... hey. He wasn't human if he didn't flirt. Well, he wasn't Wesley if he didn't flirt. It wasn't like he was betraying Roger by doing it, just admiring a pretty face.
"Oh, y'know," he shrugged, coy smile on his own mouth. "You got the whole - ethereal, aloof thing goin' on. Up to date bags and shit. Not that nobody else around here wears that, but - well, I mean they try but with you it kinda looks natural."
---
Oh, he was good! The smirk became a polite smile, heavy eyelids lowering. "Well, thank you." She knew who he was, and was amused at the irony of him flirting with her. Pretty girl was Wesley's highlight.... this was hers.
"I would say I try, but..." she shrugged one shoulder and let out a soft chuckle, gentle and velvety. She let out a quiet hiss as she twisted her forearm sideways. Damn, that hurt.
---
Shit, healing, right. Wes attempted to swallow the surge of pride he felt at succeeding with this flirting game. Hadn't lost it yet! Of course if he knew who he was actually flirting with, that she was seeing Dante oh-ye-of-torment fame, Wes would be absolutely mortified. No wonder Erin was enjoying this.
With his hand ready he placed the heated palm over the burn, closing his eyes and concentrating. It had the potential to be nasty but luckily she'd acted quickly. Maybe it had been a half angel, they were still tricky... "That feel better?" When he spoke his tone was deliberately low and manly.
---
Oh ho ho, this was hilarious. He was really flirting with her. He must have no idea. Erin had made it a point of figuring out who Wesley was -- or rather, made a point to put a face to a name -- when she heard about his connection with Dante. Apparently the connection had never been reversed. Which was just as well; she'd been bored lately.
How to play this. She couldn't obviously flirt back, or it would make this story less entertaining. She needed to play dumb and have the option to deny everything later.
"...Yes," she said, looking down at where the burn had been to see what remained. She bit her lower lip. "No scar, right?"
---
Proud of himself for a number of reasons, Wes shook his head. "There shouldn't be. If there is it will be slight and only if you look really close. If you get trouble you can come to me and I'll see if I can fix it."
There was a grand pause as Wes deliberated this. He was already in love with a student, had slept with one prior to that and now he was flirting with another. This track record was fucking student central. Throwing caution to the wind, Wes removed his hand from Erin's arm and shot her a winning smile. "Can't have the prettiest girl on campus with a big ugly scar, now, can we?" Okay maybe that was creepy. He lowered the wattage on this sudden shining moment. "Just you mind not to bump into any holy creatures again, they're a tricky bunch."
---
She let out a quiet laugh at "prettiest girl," and looked away, like she was shy. Hah.
"Girl?" she mused, sliding pale gray eyes back over toward the healer. "I'm not girl. I'm no more a girl than you are a boy." With that, she looked him over, just once, though it could have arguably been a studious glance and no more. She smirked. "Your eyes deceive you."
---
Surprised, Wes took a moment to blink. He hadn't really thought he'd get any reaction from this one, or anything back at least. Recovering after a second, the healer's smile regained its focus and so did he.
"Sorry, just... I didn't mean to offend. People have been calling me old a lot lately, since my birthday in fact, so anyone who looks younger than me may as well be young enough to be my daughter or somethin'." He chuckled a little, then shrugged. The coy game. "Guess that's the grief a mature man gets."
---
"Pah," she said, running French-manicured tipped fingers over where her wound used to be. "Mature. How old are you?"
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Wes' lips curled into a smirk. "Just like a lady, a gentleman never tells. And seeing as you're a lady, I'd guess you would be so kind as to not press me on that little... number issue," he drawled.
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Erin's smile slipped into a bit of a grin. "Noted. Well," she looked down again, triple checking to make sure no scar would appear, then looked into his eyes evenly, without the general shyness of a young woman dealing with a clownish flirt.
"Thank you very much."
---
"You're very welcome."
Wes put his hands in his pockets, smile bright on his face. This was certainly a nice addition to the day. He couldn't remember exactly why he'd got into healing but this was certainly a perk of being a doctor. He almost lamented the simplicity of the injury though. Their time was no longer able to be extended and he sighed. "You take care of yourself, okay? If you need anything..."
---
"I'll remember that," she purred, pulling herself to a stand. She grabbed her green clutch and tucked it safely under one arm, then shook her hair out so that it fell in a soft black curtain around her. Her narrow eyes glittered.