Amanda Sefton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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xp_logs2007-03-28 01:00 pm
xp_daytripper) wrote in xp_logs2007-03-28 01:00 pm
Entry tags:
Madagascar: Amanda, Angelo - Wednesday
A normal bit of roughhousing on the beach unearths something a bit more serious. Luckily, there's always talking about it.
"You're gettin' burned", Angelo said cheerfully, brushing a hand over the distinctly pink skin of Amanda's back. "Time to go swimmin', maybe. Cool off a bit."
"I'm English," came the muffled response from where Amanda had her head resting on her arms. "Well, German, sort of, but still. I always burn." But she raised her head and gave the sparkling blue water a considering glance. It did look... inviting. And she was getting too hot, even with sunscreen lathered on by a most-attentive Angelo. "'M gunna have to get up, aren't I?"
"Unless you want me to carry you, yeah, you are."
"You're on holiday. No heavy lifting," she joked, levering herself up with melodramatic effort, tugging the borrowed bikini into place before rolling into a sitting position. Marie-Ange had taken one look at her plain black one-piece swimsuit and insisted on something "less proper", and whilst Amanda was still a little twitchy about wearing it in public, Angelo's reaction had been well worth it.
He grinned over at her, pushing himself to his feet in turn, utterly unselfconscious about the scars on his chest and back. "Right then. Race you?"
She held out her hand for him to pull her to her feet, and when he did, shamelessly used the momentum to dart past him. "Last one in's a rotten egg!" she called merrily over her shoulder.
"Cheat!" he yelled back, laughing, and dashed after her, catching up just before she reached the waterline and tackling her into the shallows.
Amanda squealed as he grabbed her, still laughing, but then the tackle knocked her head under water, where she got a mouthful of water, and suddenly she was back in Syria, struggling against the weight of her pack and her boots against the ice-cold brackish flood that threatened to carry her away entirely. Arms flailing wildly, it took several moments for her to realise the water was only thigh-deep on her, and all she had to do was stand up - when she did, she was shivering and gasping for breath in a way that was at odds with the warm sub-tropical water.
Angelo had let her go several seconds ago and stood up, and he was watching her with deep concern now. "...Amanda?"
"Just... give me a sec," she managed, trying to catch her breath. Eventually she looked up at him, trying to smile. "So, that's what a panic attack feels like," she said, trying to make a joke of it, even as residual adrenaline still coursed through her system. "'m okay, love. Just... took me by surprise, and I've had one near-drowning this month already."
Angelo looked at her for a long moment, then stepped to her side to put his hands reassuringly - he hoped - on her shoulders. "You did, huh?" he asked neutrally.
The touch helped, and she stepped forward to wrap her arms around his waist, leaning her forehead on his wet chest. "'M sorry," she said. "I should've told you, only you were just done with that job of yours, and then we... sort of got distracted. It was in Syria - you saw my post about having an unexpected swim? The bit I didn't mention was I had a pack on and I don't swim so well. Wanda and Marie-Ange had to fish me out." Her voice was almost ashamed-sounding - of all the ways of nearly getting killed on a mission. "It... was a bit of a close call. I didn't to worry you, only when my head went under just then, I kind of... reacted."
"Wish you'd told me", was all he said, as un-reproachfully as he could. It wasn't the time. "I wouldn't've tackled you... but hey, I know now. Won't do it again, not 'til you say you can deal."
Unseen, she winced a little. They'd always been honest with each other, at least when not being actively evil, and this wasn't the time to stop. "I should have," she agreed softly, her hold on him just short of clinging. "I just... didn't want to worry you, with everything that was going on. I won't do it again." She looked up, and gave him a small smile. "Except when Pete or Remy're threatening horrible things to keep things quiet."
"Paige used to do that", he said quietly, not shifting his hold on her. "Never talk about it when there was somethin' wrong, even to me. An' you know where that ended up. So unless it's somethin' you can't talk about... no secrets?"
"No secrets," she agreed, expression full of remorse. "I'm sorry, love. I should've known better."
"It's okay", he told her, voice still low - because really, there was no point going on about it any further. What was done was done, and she'd promised. "Now... you gonna be okay? We can go back to the beach..."
She looked down at the clear water lapping around them, so clear she could see their feet on the sandy bottom. The sun was hot on her back where Angelo didn't have his arms around her shoulders, and things were about as opposite to the cavern in Syria as you could get. "It's okay," she said, looking back up at him and meeting his eyes. "Swim with me? I need the practice."
That got a smile, relieved and proud and loving. "Course I will."
She reached up and kissed him briefly on the mouth, tasting salt and sunscreen. "Love you," she said, and then let her hand dip into the water before flicking droplets from her fingers onto his face, breaking into an impish grin. "You're still a rotten egg, tho'," she teased, before slipping out of his arms and wading out a little further. "Coming?"
He laughed and started after her, relaxing again. "Right behind you. Love you too." He was keeping an eye on her, all the while, and gauging the depth. Just in case.
"You're gettin' burned", Angelo said cheerfully, brushing a hand over the distinctly pink skin of Amanda's back. "Time to go swimmin', maybe. Cool off a bit."
"I'm English," came the muffled response from where Amanda had her head resting on her arms. "Well, German, sort of, but still. I always burn." But she raised her head and gave the sparkling blue water a considering glance. It did look... inviting. And she was getting too hot, even with sunscreen lathered on by a most-attentive Angelo. "'M gunna have to get up, aren't I?"
"Unless you want me to carry you, yeah, you are."
"You're on holiday. No heavy lifting," she joked, levering herself up with melodramatic effort, tugging the borrowed bikini into place before rolling into a sitting position. Marie-Ange had taken one look at her plain black one-piece swimsuit and insisted on something "less proper", and whilst Amanda was still a little twitchy about wearing it in public, Angelo's reaction had been well worth it.
He grinned over at her, pushing himself to his feet in turn, utterly unselfconscious about the scars on his chest and back. "Right then. Race you?"
She held out her hand for him to pull her to her feet, and when he did, shamelessly used the momentum to dart past him. "Last one in's a rotten egg!" she called merrily over her shoulder.
"Cheat!" he yelled back, laughing, and dashed after her, catching up just before she reached the waterline and tackling her into the shallows.
Amanda squealed as he grabbed her, still laughing, but then the tackle knocked her head under water, where she got a mouthful of water, and suddenly she was back in Syria, struggling against the weight of her pack and her boots against the ice-cold brackish flood that threatened to carry her away entirely. Arms flailing wildly, it took several moments for her to realise the water was only thigh-deep on her, and all she had to do was stand up - when she did, she was shivering and gasping for breath in a way that was at odds with the warm sub-tropical water.
Angelo had let her go several seconds ago and stood up, and he was watching her with deep concern now. "...Amanda?"
"Just... give me a sec," she managed, trying to catch her breath. Eventually she looked up at him, trying to smile. "So, that's what a panic attack feels like," she said, trying to make a joke of it, even as residual adrenaline still coursed through her system. "'m okay, love. Just... took me by surprise, and I've had one near-drowning this month already."
Angelo looked at her for a long moment, then stepped to her side to put his hands reassuringly - he hoped - on her shoulders. "You did, huh?" he asked neutrally.
The touch helped, and she stepped forward to wrap her arms around his waist, leaning her forehead on his wet chest. "'M sorry," she said. "I should've told you, only you were just done with that job of yours, and then we... sort of got distracted. It was in Syria - you saw my post about having an unexpected swim? The bit I didn't mention was I had a pack on and I don't swim so well. Wanda and Marie-Ange had to fish me out." Her voice was almost ashamed-sounding - of all the ways of nearly getting killed on a mission. "It... was a bit of a close call. I didn't to worry you, only when my head went under just then, I kind of... reacted."
"Wish you'd told me", was all he said, as un-reproachfully as he could. It wasn't the time. "I wouldn't've tackled you... but hey, I know now. Won't do it again, not 'til you say you can deal."
Unseen, she winced a little. They'd always been honest with each other, at least when not being actively evil, and this wasn't the time to stop. "I should have," she agreed softly, her hold on him just short of clinging. "I just... didn't want to worry you, with everything that was going on. I won't do it again." She looked up, and gave him a small smile. "Except when Pete or Remy're threatening horrible things to keep things quiet."
"Paige used to do that", he said quietly, not shifting his hold on her. "Never talk about it when there was somethin' wrong, even to me. An' you know where that ended up. So unless it's somethin' you can't talk about... no secrets?"
"No secrets," she agreed, expression full of remorse. "I'm sorry, love. I should've known better."
"It's okay", he told her, voice still low - because really, there was no point going on about it any further. What was done was done, and she'd promised. "Now... you gonna be okay? We can go back to the beach..."
She looked down at the clear water lapping around them, so clear she could see their feet on the sandy bottom. The sun was hot on her back where Angelo didn't have his arms around her shoulders, and things were about as opposite to the cavern in Syria as you could get. "It's okay," she said, looking back up at him and meeting his eyes. "Swim with me? I need the practice."
That got a smile, relieved and proud and loving. "Course I will."
She reached up and kissed him briefly on the mouth, tasting salt and sunscreen. "Love you," she said, and then let her hand dip into the water before flicking droplets from her fingers onto his face, breaking into an impish grin. "You're still a rotten egg, tho'," she teased, before slipping out of his arms and wading out a little further. "Coming?"
He laughed and started after her, relaxing again. "Right behind you. Love you too." He was keeping an eye on her, all the while, and gauging the depth. Just in case.