xp_logs | Paige and Doug do the Buffy cuteness thing

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Doug sat in the Medlab, quietly typing away on his laptop. Every time Dr. McCoy saw Doug with his laptop, he started fussing, but without much heat to it. Besides, there are only so many times one can count the tiles in the ceiling without going stark raving mad. And since Dr. McCoy had a number of experiments to keep an eye on, as well as the comatose Betsy Braddock in another room, conversation wasn't very high on the list of priorities. And so, Doug was allowed to keep his laptop, as long as he didn't re-injure himself.

Paige had manners; she just didn’t tend to remember them. This was very apparent as she stepped into the room without knocking and with a bright grin ran to his bad, jumping onto the foot of it. It jostled his computer nearly out of his lap and she reached over to right it. “Howdy Douglas. Good to see you awake.”

Doug blushed as he attempted to make himself look somehow decent. A hard thing to do when you've been unconscious for a couple days and stuck in a medlab bed with pajamas on.

“Awake and articulate,” she teased gently, kicking her legs out and then crossing them. “You had me right worried, chickpea. Think you could handle not getting beat up for a while?”

Doug stared down at the bedsheet covering his lap. "I didn't _mean_ to get beaten up. And I certainly didn't enjoy the experience."

Paige sighed and picked up the spoon from his Jell-O, throwing it at him. “I know that, dork. I was teasing. Except for the worried part.”

Doug looked up hesitantly and attempted to lighten the mood. "Oooh. Dork. Such name-calling. You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

“There’s my boy.” She grinned again, poking at him with her foot playfully. “And yes I do and once did every day thank you very much.”

Doug blushed again, having no idea what to say. "So, how have you been?"

“I am just fine now that you’re all right and lacking broken limbs,” Paige replied, ignoring his blush. “Oh, and I’m to thank you for my Chemistry mark I suspect. Actually got some work done down here.”

Doug nodded slowly. "Well, good to know I accomplished _something_ by this whole mess. How's everyone else?

Paige shrugged easily, as if right now no one but him mattered. “They’re surviving. Angelo is fine as is Artie. I think we’ve finally convinced him that it wasn’t his fault that there are idiots out there.”

"Like I said to Ms. Blaire, never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups." Doug smiled wryly. "Guess I'm the poster child for that little cliche, hm?"

“Only because you’re so gosh darn cute,” Paige chirped pleasantly, her eyes bright with teasing again as she purposely missed the point. “Who wouldn’t want you plastered all about?”

~Not you, as long as Jono and Angelo are around,~ came the tightly controlled thought. "Dunno," Doug replied, attempting not to sound sullen. "Haven't found anyone as yet."

Paige had to sigh, reaching over to take back Doug’s spoon. She inspected it a moment; eyes squinted, before throwing it at him again. “I have upgraded you to dorkus.”

Doug fluttered his eyelashes. "Dorkus. What an honor. I shall treasure it forever." He clasped his hands to his chest with a mock sigh. "Why am I a dorkus, now?"

“Because you’re being a supreme dork with your woe is me I’ll never find love speech. We have enough full time angsters, Douglas. Don’t you start on me now, too.”

Doug tried to stifle a chuckle and failed, wincing slightly. "What this 'start', white girl? It's not like full-time angst is a new thing to me." He sighed. "I thought...maybe, with Rogue...and the date...but she's been..." He waved a hand expressively.

“First of all, you did *not* just call me ‘white girl’. Secondly, you’ve been in a coma. It is very difficult for anything to happen when you’re in a bloody coma. Girls are fickle, she’ll come around.” Paige obviously did not notice that she’d both adapted parts of Jono’s speech and insulted her own gender as she continued chattering. “Now, back to this whole white girl, nonsense… I think I’ll have to tickle you now.”

Doug held up both hands in surrender. "No. No tickle. Tickling will hurt, I know it. If stretching the wrong way or chuckling hurts, tickling will _definitely_ hurt. And I don't know if she'll come around. I mean, sometimes she's just a girl, but then there are times when she seems to want to be so grown up, and so concentrating on the X-Men." He shrugged carefully. "I dunno. Maybe I've got a thing for girls who are unattainable." ~Like oh, say, you...~

“Join the club, chickpea. Join the club. You and I should hold meetings or something.” Paige backed off, obviously not going to tickle him but couldn’t help but poke him again, if not gently. “That girl’s got a good head on her shoulders. I’m rather fond of her. Nothing may happen but something will if you know what I mean.”

"Yeah, I think I do." Doug blushed again, something he seemed to be making a habit of. "I just...I have daydreams. Silly little romantic things I'd like to do for her. Like...I dunno, wearing gloves sometimes so she doesn't have to." He ducked his head. "Kinda stupid, I suppose."

“Douglas…” Paige moaned, taking the spoon back and, of course, throwing it at him. “You need more cutlery. And perhaps a brain. It’s very much not stupid at all.”

Doug cocked his head as he attempted to wade through Paige's last sentence. "'very much not stupid at all'? Hi. My name's Paige Guthrie. I'm a native English speaker." He smiled to take the bite off the mockery.

“I already told you,” Paige said patiently, as if she’d explained this a million times instead of just once, “my brain has been invaded by Buffy and original Star Trek DVDs. Hank tells me it should wear off before Christmas, though.”

Doug smiled. "Well, I'm not complaining, per se. Just poking a little fun. Besides, that was a little TV-show reference of my own. I should have you watch my Sports Night DVDs some time."

Paige shook her head violently at that. “Oh no. No more television for me for a very long time. I’m still recuperating.” She stretched at that, cracking her neck in the process. “Speaking of recuperating, I should probably let you go sleep or do something, you know, recuperatinglike. Another one of my new words, thank you.”

Doug smiled. "Recuperatinglike. Buffy has definitely been rubbing off on you. I prescribe some textbooks, stat."

“Tsk, Mr. Ramsey. I’m the doctor in this relationship. None of that now, y’hear?” She hopped off the bed, straightening the blankets immediately after. “Want me to stay until you fall asleep?”

Doug suddenly looked very vulnerable, all his barriers down. "I...you...please?" He very tentatively laid his hand out toward the chair pulled close to the bed and closed his eyes.

Paige smiled, the warm smile she reserved for special occasions like this, and lifted the chair so close to the bed that when she settled her knees brushed against it. “You know I will,” she said soothingly.

Doug opened his eyes and clasped Paige's hand gently and tentatively, trying very hard not to latch on. Laying back, he closed his eyes and hoped that his sleep would be untroubled by nightmares.

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Monica Brazelton.

Ph33r my l33t Sports Night trivia knowledge! :)

See, I'd have to decide who I most want to play. Probably Danny, but I could be talked into Jeremy, Casey, Isaac, and even Sam Donovan.