xicanfixit replied to your post
is it too early to ship it
He's married, so imma say it's too LATE to ship it.

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xicanfixit replied to your post
is it too early to ship it
He's married, so imma say it's too LATE to ship it.
adventures in
couples counseling
with seth and vanessa
♦
Send me a "♦" for the first word my muse thinks of when your muse is mentioned.
infuriating.
“Am I..?”
He can’t help but turn his face away with a kind of huffed sound hissed passed the front of his teeth. A messy blend between amusement and disbelief at the sheer absurdity of the fact that she was asking a man carrying a .45 glock and sporting gashes that looked like a bear had used him as a scratching post if he was crazy.
“Only on Monday’s, Doc.”
He retorted with the same wild eyed smile on his face because to hell with looking sane, and to hell with putting on a brave face for the next two seconds, he was bleeding out the last thing he needed was to look like he was normal, which let’s face it, he really hadn’t been normal in years. He raised the gun again in what might have been described as a lazy grip if not for the way his hand was steady and still.
”Here’s what’s going to happen, sweetheart, you’re going to patch me up, alright? You’re going to patch me up before my guts spill out all over this nice clean floor, okay? You think you can do that for me?”
She was afraid she was going to burst into laughter.
Call it nerves. Better yet call it irony ---- because in the 100 ways she envisioned dying never once did this scenario cross her mind: human with a gun.
Maybe that's why she said it: Are you crazy?
A knee jerk reaction to him bursting in there brandishing a gun and generally looking like he and a tiger had crossed paths. Not at all what she expected and she usually braced for just about anything.
Thankfully she didn't laugh.
Or bristle. She held her tongue too at being called sweetheart (pet names were for people who bought her dinner not shoved a gun in her face). All and all she hoped she was building just a tad bit of good karma here. So with that in mind, she hoped she wasn't about to blow it all and wind up with a bullet in her chest.
"You can...lower the gun," she stated, voice even, perhaps even a hint of a smile playing on her lips (no where near the one he was sporting). "It's makes me nervous and quite frankly you don't want a nervous doctor patching you up. Might cause me to sew your liver to your stomach or something."
(and really given the blood --- she was probably a tad bit more useful to him alive then dead).
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