Loglet: Jim and Lorna with sleeping Angel
Oct. 7th, 2006 01:45 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsLate Friday night, the chef and the counsellor make a kitchen run and discover what happens when you cross scary clowns with teenage girls.
"...no reason. But that's just how it goes right?" Lorna said as she and Haller wandered into the kitchen for a midnight snack. She suspected he hadn't remembered dinner and there were lots of leftover cookies anyway. "Besides there are..." She flicked on the light and stopped. Before Haller could say a word, she lifted a finger to her lips and pointed, blinking bemused at the girl curled up under the big wooden table.
Kitchen table. Small redhead clutching a pillow and a stick. Jim stared at the scene for a moment before a throwaway comment from earlier that evening come back to him. With an air of regret the telepath shook his head and mouthed to Lorna by way of explanation, 'It.'
Lorna looked baffled then wrinkled her nose, Clowns?. She hated clowns. Horrible creatures, so false. She took in the scene a moment longer, decided that the teen would probably wake up very sore if she slept on the floor all night long and mimed picking her up at Jim. Bed?
Jim nodded in silent assent. Bed. He started to step forward, then paused, considering the situation. Eyebrow quirking at Lorna, his hands traced an inverted horseshoe shape in the air followed by a quick upward thrust, lips forming the words, Would you?
She gave a silent laugh and flicked her hand, wood protesting with soft creaks as it lifted, hoisted by the nails holding it together. Another small gesture settled the table again lightly, just out of the way. Lorna gave Jim a speculative look and flicked her wrist indicating them both then the girl. He just didn't look strong enough to carry anyone upstairs. Even if he had dragged Lorna out to the lake.
Jim managed to keep his tongue inside his mouth at Lorna's appraising look, much to the disappointment of some of his parts. He contented himself with a dignified nod of agreement. Moving quietly, he moved to Angel. The pillow was drawn out of her clutching arms. The stick, on the other hand, was not.
The counselor gave Lorna a look that bordered on incredulity as he attempted to work the girl's fingers away from the wood and failed miserably. When did the students start coming with kung-fu grip?
She caught about a third of that and filled in the rest, barely resisting giggles. Nudging him out of the way, she bent and gathered up the girl, stick and all, lifting her with...well, quite a bit of trouble actually. Help?, she mouthed, green eyes wide, and deposited the girl into his arms, stick and all.
There was instantaneous snuggling. Jim narrowly avoided a stick in the jaw.
The counselor straightened his neck out from the dodge and smiled wryly. Stephen King needs to die, he mouthed, and set out.
"...no reason. But that's just how it goes right?" Lorna said as she and Haller wandered into the kitchen for a midnight snack. She suspected he hadn't remembered dinner and there were lots of leftover cookies anyway. "Besides there are..." She flicked on the light and stopped. Before Haller could say a word, she lifted a finger to her lips and pointed, blinking bemused at the girl curled up under the big wooden table.
Kitchen table. Small redhead clutching a pillow and a stick. Jim stared at the scene for a moment before a throwaway comment from earlier that evening come back to him. With an air of regret the telepath shook his head and mouthed to Lorna by way of explanation, 'It.'
Lorna looked baffled then wrinkled her nose, Clowns?. She hated clowns. Horrible creatures, so false. She took in the scene a moment longer, decided that the teen would probably wake up very sore if she slept on the floor all night long and mimed picking her up at Jim. Bed?
Jim nodded in silent assent. Bed. He started to step forward, then paused, considering the situation. Eyebrow quirking at Lorna, his hands traced an inverted horseshoe shape in the air followed by a quick upward thrust, lips forming the words, Would you?
She gave a silent laugh and flicked her hand, wood protesting with soft creaks as it lifted, hoisted by the nails holding it together. Another small gesture settled the table again lightly, just out of the way. Lorna gave Jim a speculative look and flicked her wrist indicating them both then the girl. He just didn't look strong enough to carry anyone upstairs. Even if he had dragged Lorna out to the lake.
Jim managed to keep his tongue inside his mouth at Lorna's appraising look, much to the disappointment of some of his parts. He contented himself with a dignified nod of agreement. Moving quietly, he moved to Angel. The pillow was drawn out of her clutching arms. The stick, on the other hand, was not.
The counselor gave Lorna a look that bordered on incredulity as he attempted to work the girl's fingers away from the wood and failed miserably. When did the students start coming with kung-fu grip?
She caught about a third of that and filled in the rest, barely resisting giggles. Nudging him out of the way, she bent and gathered up the girl, stick and all, lifting her with...well, quite a bit of trouble actually. Help?, she mouthed, green eyes wide, and deposited the girl into his arms, stick and all.
There was instantaneous snuggling. Jim narrowly avoided a stick in the jaw.
The counselor straightened his neck out from the dodge and smiled wryly. Stephen King needs to die, he mouthed, and set out.
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