Verity (jokeshopgirl) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-11-23 12:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, oliver wood, verity |
Who: Verity and Oliver Wood, with guest appearance by NPC Lizzy Adler.
When: Thursday, post-Thanksgiving dinner
Where: Adler Household, Hospital
What: Phone Call
Rating: Low, some flirting, mention of kisses and attraction
Status: Complete!
Verity’s knees were bouncing all through Thanksgiving dinner. It was nice to see her Mom and Dad, and it was always fun to hang around with the kids, but after Lizzy came home and told her that Oliver’s surgery was a success, Verity wanted nothing more than to call him and tell him she was thinking about him. Or text him, anyway. But there were no phones at the Thanksgiving table, so Verity had to wait.
When the post-dinner games started, Verity excused herself to go back into the guest bedroom and call him. She sat down on the edge of the bed, dialed Oliver’s cell phone number, and waited while it rang.
On the third ring, a groggy, unintelligible voice scratched over the line, ‘Halò?’ It sounded at once sleepy, unaware, and very confused.
“Hi.” Verity said, wincing a little at the sound of his voice. She’d been so excited to talk to him, she hadn’t imagined that he might not be coherent enough to talk back. Lizzy had said that the surgery was going to leave him weak and probably groggy, but she’d skimmed over that in her mind. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
‘Nae...’ Oliver groaned. His tongue felt all too heavy and fat to be a part of his mouth and made swallowing nigh impossible. And what was speaking, anyway? Thinking hurt as much as breathing. ‘Aye. S’alright,’ he managed at last, scrubbing at his closed eyes with the palm of his fist that held the phone. Everything about the world was wrong.
Returning to the phone, Oliver asked, ‘Ciamar a tha thu?’ stopped, shook his head, and tried again, ‘How are yae?’
Verity frowned a little bit, then flopped down onto her back on the bed. She was kicking herself now. She should have known that he would be out of it after the surgery. She should have just sent him a text message to tell him she was thinking of him, and then talk to him later.
Maybe she was crowding him. Verity didn’t want to be one of those fangirls that suffocated him, or that needed a restraining order. She closed her eyes. “I’m all right. I... I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called. I should let you be. Lizzy said the surgery went well, so... I should let you rest.”
Verity.
Now Oliver knew who was calling him. That made him smile and the heart rate monitor bleep a little faster.
‘Nae, no. No, lass. Donnae go.’ Oliver scowled at his own tongue, desperately attempting to control it properly enough to enunciate. ‘I like your voice.... It’s pretty.’ What?
“It... is?” Verity couldn’t help the smile or the blush that crossed over her features. Thank goodness he was over the phone and couldn’t see it. That would only have made it worse.
“Well, then I can talk to you for a little bit.” She felt like a giddy schoolgirl. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt in quite a while. “So long as I’m not keeping you from resting.”
‘Nae, no,’ why did he keep saying that? Frustrated by the lack of control he had over his own body, Oliver clenched his jaw tightly, squeezed his eyes and tried to ignore the buzzing drunken feeling of his lips. ‘How was your day? With the... pilgrims and... food things?’
“The pilgrims were delicious, thanks,” Verity said, staring up at the ceiling of her brother and sister-in-law’s guest bedroom. “You should have seen Lizzy’s kids. She had them dressed up in matching outfits. Michael in a red and brown plaid vest, Annabelle wearing a little dress out of the same fabric.” She gave a little sigh. “I don’t know how she has the time to sew on top of everything else she has to do.”
Oliver was doing his best to follow the thread of conversation, but arse-over-tit pumped full of drugs and groggy from anesthetic, he could barely keep the drool off his chin. Still, he liked listening to Verity even if she was talking about... fabric children? ‘Must be a Time Lord,’ Oliver retorted, but quickly changed the subject. Daleks were frightening enough to think about sober. ‘Or a wotsit... Doc Brown? Cannae remember... The one with the car. And the...’ he made a weird motion with his free elbow, not realising Verity couldn’t see him.
‘De-Louis- wotsit... Lorean. De- oh fuck it....’ he chuckled and gave up. Laughing felt pretty good compared to everything else, and laughing with Verity had been best since coming to the states. Oliver pressed his phone hard against his ear. ‘I’m happy you called.’
Verity gave a laugh. He sounded so drugged out, it was funny and adorable. She hoped that it meant he was feeling good, that there wasn’t any pain. Her father had told her once that the reason for the drugs was so that the patient could start to move without pain, and that started the healing. Then again, he got up on his knee before he should have, and mucked everything up.
“I’m happy I called, too.” She said. “My sister in law is absolutely from Gallifrey.” She said. “Or spends time in a DeLorean. One or the other.” She shrugged gently. “She’s a miracle worker.”
‘Must be,’ Oliver grinned, ‘I feel like I’m flying.’ And not just from the drugs. Maybe it was Verity! Or the anesthetic. Lack of sleep? But there’d been a dream, Oliver could remember that.
It had been a dream. Had to have been.
‘Or- sorry, what were we talking about?’
“Flying?” Verity said, still grinning brightly at the tone of his voice. He sounded so out of it. But he was there. He was alive, and the surgery had been a success. He had to be happy about that part, right? “Probably the drugs, Oli.” She said, smirking now.
“Time travel.” She said, softly. “But we can talk about whatever you want to talk about.”
‘Want to talk about you,’ he mumbled, snuggling up next to the phone. ‘You’re very pretty...’
“Wh-What about me?” Verity asked. “You’re very kind to say so.” She knew it was probably the drugs talking. “What do you want to know?”
‘Everything,’ Oliver blurted, then realised that wasn’t a real answer, as much as he wanted it to be. ‘Something. How soft your lips are...’ his words trailed off, and behind closed eyelids, Oliver could see Verity’s face perfectly. Her golden locks, sharp jaw, creamy skin; more real than a dream but so far away.
‘Sorry... sorry. I’m- out of it,’ he apologised, wanting to shake his head but not able to. His shoulder was starting to hurt as his brain began to correct his mistakes and function properly. ‘How was your dinner? No, I already asked that. Fuck... Ach! Favorite dish?’
Oh, boy. Verity went crimson at his words, and was again very glad that he couldn’t see her face. She was trying to be nice to him, trying to be a good friend. All she wanted to do now was kiss him until they both ran out of air.
“For Thanksgiving it’s the canned cranberry sauce. I could eat that stuff with a spoon. The rest of the time? I dunno. Apples? Are apples a dish?” She paused for a moment, then added, “they’re pretty soft, you know. Maybe you can find out first hand on Sunday.”
Oliver was just about to ask why apple pie wasn't her favourite dish when she mentioned softness; it took Oliver a very pregnant pause for his brain to catch up, but at least he didn't say anything stupid.
'I'd like that very much.'
Verity’s heart was pounding now. She couldn’t stop grinning--it was making her cheeks hurt a little. A gentle shiver escaped her that had nothing to do with cold. “What kind of food should I bring on Sunday?” She asked, then playfully added, “no garlic.”
'Hmm, no garlic,' Oliver agreed distantly. He was already kissing her in his mind, tasting those perfectly pink lips. 'Anything is good. I'm really not picky.'
“Chicken, then.” Verity said. “Though it’s hard to think about food right now, I’m full from Thanksgiving.” She brought her hand up to rest on her stomach, laying back on the bed. For a brief moment, she thought about Oliver’s hands, and wondered what they would feel like on her body. It was a deliciously naughty thought, and made something turn in her lower abdomen.
'What did you have to eat?' he asked. Food was the furthest thing from his mind right now but anything that would keep Verity talking was a great conversation. She had a voice which Oliver knew would sound sinful gasping his name in pleasure. This was not the first time that thought had crossed his mind.
"Turkey," Verity said, gently. "Mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce. It was a pretty traditional meal." She knew he'd never had thanksgiving dinner, so she thought she would explain a little more than she otherwise would. "I helped the kids make pumpkin pie for dessert."
Kids? 'Your brother's kids?' Oliver clarified; it was a modern era, so for all he knew she had a whole hoard of them.
“Yes, Lizzy’s kids,” Verity clarified. “Annabelle and Michael. I take them every Friday so Lizzy and Chace can have a date night. Probably not tomorrow, I think my Mom is going to take them. I’ll probably just work late. Black Friday and everything.”
'Ah yes, the infamous frenzied shopping day.' Even coming from the United Kingdom Oliver knew what that was and how horrid it could be. Americans were a bunch of toddlers, killing one another over toys and designer clothing one day a year. 'Just keep those lips safe till Sunday, alright?'
“Will do,” Verity said with a grin. “I can’t promise them off then provide a shoddy product.” She said, running her fingers back and forth across her stomach, idly. “No, I’ll keep them perfectly safe for you on Sunday.”
'Mhmm. Brillant. I cannae wait.' Pausing for a yawn, Oliver finally blinked weary eyes open. The world was starting to come to, but he was growing weary and the drugs were still heavily affecting his judgement. 'Been wanting to kiss you since the first day I saw you.'
Verity’s heart started to thump in her chest. She was going even more red, though no one was near her to see it. “Really?” She asked, feeling both flattered and shy.
'Really,' he admitted, feeling fuzzy head to toe. 'You were the first kind person I'd met since coming to the States. And you're very pretty.... Like a wee sprite. And you did rescue my coffee cup.'
It made her feel fuzzy, too, to hear him saying such nice things about her. Verity nodded, though he couldn’t see her. She rolled onto her side and cuddled the phone under her ear. “I think I rescued you from your Coffee cup.” She said, smirking. “You were about to make a bit of a mess with that hot coffee.”
Through the line, Oliver's deep, bright laugh bounced and rolled. 'Aye, it's true!' he admitted, sighing heavily as the giggles washed over him. He could be such a stubborn ninny when he wanted to be.
Like now. Verity was everything good that had happened to him since moving to California for the big surgery. A lucky charm, someone to look forward to seeing, to speaking to. Hanging up would drain the world of its colour, but he was getting so tired. 'Wouldn't have been the first time.'
“You’ve lost battles with coffee cups before?” She asked, grinning. “Why am I not surprised?”
Oliver shook his head, stopped, then verbalized, 'I've nary a clue...' sleep was coming again. 'You... See the future? You're... a witch, or sommat? Voodoo? I donnae... something.
'I should sleep!' he managed at last with the remnants of energy.
“You should. I’m sorry I kept you so long.” Verity said as she sat up on the bed. “G’night, Oliver. My lips and I will see you on Sunday.”
A soft, cozy smile curled along Oliver's lips as he thought of Verity's, 'Good night,' and hung up the phone.
Verity waited until the click of his phone, then gave a giddy giggle. She climbed up from the bed and nearly skipped to the door to let herself out. In the hallway she almost literally ran into Lizzy.
“Where have you been? The kids want to cut the pie... What’s got that huge grin on your face?” Lizzy asked, breaking into her own grin at the sight of Verity’s.
“Oh, nothing,” Verity said, still grinning.
“Spill it,” Lizzy said, stepping into the middle of the hall to block Verity’s path.
“It may have been a conversation with a certain patient of yours,” Verity giggled. She was giggling like a school girl. It was unreal.
“Oh.’ Lizzy’s face fell just a little.
“What?” Verity asked, the grin on her face melting into a slight frown. “Lizzy, what is it?”
“I didn’t know you two were... I mean, I knew, but,” Lizzy babbled.
“Lizzy, you were the one who orchestrated our coming together. What do you mean you didn’t know?” Verity asked, now growing irritated.
“Just... be careful with him, all right? He’s been seeing other girls.” Lizzy said.
Verity blinked at her. “He’s at the hospital, how many girls can he be seeing?” She said, not wanting to believe it.
“He had one over just yesterday. I didn’t like the look of her.” Lizzy said, turning her nose up.
Verity went quiet for a moment. Was it all an act? Was he just a player? Was Verity just another girl in a long line of conquests? She didn’t want to think so, but...perhaps her paranoia had been founded.
“Come on, let’s go have some pie.” Lizzy said, wrapping her arm around Verity and leading her back out to where the rest of the family was gathered.
The kids squealed “Auntie Verry” at the sight of her, and Verity had to put on a happy face.