Bo knows you spell succubus with a u. (succubos) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-09-20 14:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, bo dennis, peter king |
Who: Bo and Petie
When: During the Kryptonite Plot
Where: The Hospital
What: Second Random Encounter
Rating/Warning: Low/None - he's sick.
Status: Complete!
Bo was a bit of a White Knight. After a particularly nasty fight at the club, she’d driven one of the more rowdy patrons to the hospital and dropped her off at the ER. The woman had refused an ambulance, and Bo knew that she needed more care, so she’d insisted. She took a left turn, then a right, and found herself deeper in the hospital instead of out where she’d come in. These places were like mazes! Seriously!
She turned down a corridor, but stopped when she saw someone familiar in one of the rooms. Someone who looked like he was in dire need of a chocolate (or was it strawberry?) milkshake. “...Petie?”
He’d been asleep, the first sleep he’d had in days after becoming so ill. His hearing aide was out, but there was just something about someone else being in the same room that woke him up. It was like a sense he’d picked up a few years after he’d lost his hearing, he thought it was probably just some sort of innate instinct that had awoken in him afterward. He didn’t remember being in the hospital for a moment. A machine beside him beeped, but he couldn’t hear that either. All he felt was the dizzying nausea and pain and he could see the blurry outline of someone standing there. Petie realized he was still in the hospital and that he’d finally gotten some sleep which made him at least feel less like he was dying.
The person he’d thought was a nurse began to come into focus and he was surprised to find the bartender-what was her name? Bo. Pretty Bo. Petie smiled wearily and signed to her. Hi, baby, he said. Then, out loud, he said, “Spiderman doesn’t feel so good.” It was just a croak of jumbled words. Petie held his hand out to Bo. He was sure he wouldn’t puke all over her. Yet.
“Yeah, I can tell,” Bo said, stepping further into the room. She sat down next to his bed and took his hand in both of hers. “Jesus, kid, you look like shit. What happened?” She asked, marvelling at how hot his hand felt between her own, how pale and gaunt he looked in the hospital bed.
“Dunno,” Petie answered, looking down at their hands. He said weakly, “I’m not even sure you should be touching me.” He was acting dramatically, like he was dying, but hell if he didn’t feel like he was dying. “I just woke up,” he swallowed a little, “and felt like I’d been hit by a submarine.”
“I’ve got a pretty amazing constitution. Besides, you look like you could use a bit of extra support.” Bo said, giving him a little smirk. She squeezed his hand between her own. There was a part of her that wondered if she could simply suck out someone’s Chi and be healed like in the dreams. If only she was on better terms with Dyson, she could attempt… she wouldn’t dare with anyone else. “A submarine?” She released his hand, grinning hopefully. “Show me the sign for submarine. Now I’m curious.”
That made him smile, both dimples showing in his cheeks. He lifted his hands, placing one just at his chest, palm facing downward, representing the water above. The other hand ran underneath it slowly, thumb raised to represent the periscope.
Bo attempted the sign, then gave a little laugh. “It’s adorable.” She said, grinning softly as she did it again. “Hey, has anyone just sort of waved hands at you? Like this?” She started to make weird gestures with her hands. There were Jazz hands in there, and something that looked like the sign for ‘year’ and then something that looked like the sign for ‘fingerspell.’ “And expected you to understand?” She was trying to be funny.
Through bleary eyes, Petie missed a lot of what she was saying anyway and was just confused by her hands, but he got the gist of it and nodded slowly. Sleep was starting to take him again, but he didn’t want her to leave yet so he kept his eyes open. “Do you know this one?” he asked, then pointed a finger at her, then moved his hand over his face, signing beautiful.
Bo shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t know many signs,” she said, but she was smiling. Even in his sickness, he was still being so friendly, so helpful. She raised an eyebrow as she lifted her hand to move it over her face, just as he’d done. “What does it mean?”
“You just called me beautiful,” Petie answered her with a soft smile. He really did like Bo. She probably had a boyfriend (or a girlfriend) and he was barking up the wrong tree, but he was glad that she placated him.
A little laugh escaped her. “Beautiful! I like it.” She said, then did the sign for beautiful again. Then the sign for submarine. “I wish I knew yellow. What’s Yellow? You’ll have to teach me to sign ‘we all live in a yellow submarine’ so I can sign along with the song.”
Oh, that one was easy. Everyone knew how to sign Beatles songs, at least deaf people did. It was one of the ways they learned and Petie showed her, the actions weak but wide and expressive. They were simple, childlike even.
Bo repeated after him, moving her hands along in the motion of the song. It was fun, and she found herself laughing again despite his serious condition. Then she sang the words, too.
He couldn’t hear her, but he knew what she was singing and he watched her lips as they sang out the lyrics. He remembered the feel of the vibration of the records and the gentle sound that came from the song whenever he would have his hearing aid in. Petie closed his eyes and sang along a little, missing words here and there, mostly because he was drifting back off to sleep, despite not wanting to.