xp_logs | Angelo and Angel, Thursday dinnertime (Reply)

After Angelo's altercation with the wall, Angel finds him trying to patch up his hand and helps. Then gets him to eat dinner.

After the last e-mail to Marie-Ange was safely typed and sent, there was one somewhat pressing issue to be taken care of... the fact that Angelo was pretty sure a bone or two in his hand was broken. Luckily, he kept a first-aid kit in the suite, and it was only with minimal wincing that he got out the tape and started to wrap it as best he could.

Angel liked Amanda well enough to decide to go poke her head in and chase Angelo out of whatever place he was overworking himself. She'd met him once or twice so it wasn't as bad as trying to rouse someone who she didn't know. She…just had to leave the beer at home.

Knocking on the door, she stuck her head in. "Angelo? Are you…GAH!"

He looked up sharply and offered a would-be reassuring smile, waving his uninjured hand to calm her down. "Angel. It's, ah... not as bad as it looks?"

Ignoring the whole "being asked to come in" thing and the fact that Angelo was "older and adult" thing, Angel scampered into the room, pointing at his hand. "Blood! Hand! Bleeding!" She squinted at it. "Ewwww. What did you do?"

"It's not bleedin' much", he protested, ignoring the "broken bone" issue for the moment. "I don't cut easy. An'... I tripped over the dog an' accidentally punched the wall?"

Well, he could hardly tell her the truth. Not without getting into various messy explanations.

At that, she put her hands on her hips. "Uh huh and I'm really an alien looking to take over the presidency," she huffed. "How hard did you "accidentally" punch that wall? There are a few fingers that, um, aren't looking natural and stuff."

"Kind of hard?" he offered hesitantly. "She's a big dog. An' the fingers... just need tapin' up. They'll be okay."

Sighing, she grabbed the tape. "Did you clean it?" She shrugged at his look. "Look, I figure if you're sitting in here trying to patch yourself up one handed, it means you won't be going to see the doctors about this any time soon. And I've got a ton of mostly male, pretty aggressive cousins so I can do some limited patch work on your hand. But I swear if I get blood on my new shirt, you're so buying me another one."

"I promise you there will be no blood on your new shirt", he said solemnly. "Like I said, it's mostly scrapes. Stopped bleedin' already."

"Still all yucky and gross," Angel informed him, bending slightly to finish the patch up job he started. "Man, that's one heck of a dog…"

He'd already got the fingers set and half-splinted before she got there, and they just needed taping now. "She doesn't usually get in the way. Just wasn't lookin' where I was goin', or somethin'."

"Gotta be more careful, I suppose." Gently so she didn't hurt his hand anymore, she finished placing the tape. "Well, that'll do though I'm no expert in dog-on-wall injuries. More of a football-and-he-headbutted-me kinda girl, really."

"Haven't had any of that kind of injury in... quite a while", he said with a rueful grin, flexing the unbandaged fingers. "Just call me clumsy. Thanks, Angel."

Angel shrugged and gave him a small grin. "You're a guy, comes with the territory, you know? Oh! Right, I heard through the grapevine that Amanda was gone and gave instructions to bring you food and beer. Uh, not so much on the beer bearing myself since that'd be illegal but I was checking to see if you ate." If he wanted to ignore the messed up hand, she wouldn't try to stop him.

He wasn't ignoring it, he would have argued. Just choosing not to waste the medlab staff's time on something he could fix up perfectly well himself - or, okay, with a little help. But the team had gone out, there was a good chance they'd need the medlab far more. "Bobby took care of the beer part, last night. An' yeah, I've eaten... lunch..."

"Dude, it's totally dinner time," she pointed out. "And I hear the kitchen's serving up a wicked mac'n'cheese tonight. Complete with the little ham pieces and all. Unless…you're Jewish and or allergic to pork, then it's not so good."

"I'm neither, so I guess we're all good." He levered himself up with a sigh. "C'mon then, Angel, let's go get mac an' cheese."

“Huzzah, I win at life!”