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xp_logsAmanda helps Wanda with the injuries sustained in India, and they talk about how they're both doing.
"How is it looking back there?" Wanda asked, voice slightly muffled from being buried amongst her arms and hair. It wasn't that it hurt, per say, but that it was just an easier position to be in while Amanda worked on changing the bandages on her back. And she hadn't bothered to look at the mess in a few days, being perfectly happy to let someone else look first.
"Well, it's less like mincemeat than it was. You've got scabs and all - it's going to itch like a bastard from now in, I've gotta warn you." Amanda was applying a layer of antiseptic cream before re-covering the mess, her attitude one of brisk professionalism - after all, she was practiced at this sort of thing. "You're gunna have some scarring, too, I'm afraid. And not even the sort that fools those body scarring wankers into thinking you got some major work done, like mine."
Wanda very carefully shrugged one shoulder. "I have hand waved some of the other, odder scars and the men find them ... intriguing." Despite her words, there was some resignation in her voice. It was simply part of the job, really, and one that she had resigned herself to years ago. "I am simply happy that it seems to be healing well; everything else I can simply take in stride. With the help of my good friend Jameson, of course."
"Watch that with the painkillers, if you're still taking them. They made me loopy," Amanda warned with a small grin. "More so than India, if you can believe it. But yeah, looks like it's healing up all right. If you do those stretching exercises I gave you, you shouldn't lose too much mobility, even."
"I'll make sure to work them into my morning work out routine," Wanda promised, finally raising her head enough so she could attempt to peer back at Amanda. "It needed some changing to keep it from being boring, anyway. And did you say more loopy than India? I did not think that was possible..." Under the teasing tone was a subtle note of concern.
"Well, maybe I was exaggerating a bit." Amanda shrugged, grabbing a wipe to clean her hands with and tossing it in the trashcan. "I swear, next time I have to get up close and personal with a big power source, you lot will have to lock up my laptop to stop me being a total prat."
The bed creaked slightly as Wanda worked her way upright, careful to not jostle any of the new bandages Amanda had applied to her back. Her shirt was off to the side and she reached for it as she responded lightly, "Well, you were not a total prat." It took a second to pull the shirt over her head but she continued, more seriously, "How are you doing with the aftermath?"
"Jonesing for a fix like you wouldn't fucking believe," came the blunt response. Amanda looked a bit sheepish as she stepped back to give Wanda room. "With Sof on medical leave for now, I'm seeing my old bloke for counselling, which helps even if I have to pretend I'm a smack addict, and I have good days and bad ones. The other day on the journals with Doug... yeah, that was a bad one. My temper's been a bastard to control."
"You're recognizing it, at least," Wanda replied as she tugged the shirt down to cover the bandages. "Which is a good sign. Does not help when you're in the middle of a bad day, I know, but still." Turning around, she gave Amanda a good once over. "Will you let me know if there is anything I can do to help? I might not be in much shape to work you over in the ring to help your temper ease itself but I can certainly work you through your paces." She grinned, just a little, in remembrance of how their early training sessions used to go.
"I don't know which sucks more, being an addict, or being addicted to my own bloody powers," Amanda replied, pulling a face. "At least if it was something normal, I could quit and be done with it. Instead, I have to watch myself every time I have to tap into something big enough to give me a buzz." Then she grinned. "Still, I did get to toss Gladiator around like a toy - you sure about working me through my paces, Boss Lady? I'm a big gun these days." She wasn't at all serious."
Wanda's face was very carefully blank. "Oh, I'm sure this old woman has a few things up her sleeve to put any 'big gun' through their paces." Her lips twitched and she had to bit the bottom one to keep from laughing out loud. "That, my dear, is generally referred to as 'asking for it'. I'll come up with something for you in a day or two that'll take your mind off of things."
Her expression softened minutely as she added, "And that whole Gladiator thing? Well done, indeed."
"As long as it isn't throwing wrenches at me again," came the reply. "I could handle Mr. Superstrong Guardian of India just fine, but you start throwing tools at me and I might have to cry like a girl."
"How is it looking back there?" Wanda asked, voice slightly muffled from being buried amongst her arms and hair. It wasn't that it hurt, per say, but that it was just an easier position to be in while Amanda worked on changing the bandages on her back. And she hadn't bothered to look at the mess in a few days, being perfectly happy to let someone else look first.
"Well, it's less like mincemeat than it was. You've got scabs and all - it's going to itch like a bastard from now in, I've gotta warn you." Amanda was applying a layer of antiseptic cream before re-covering the mess, her attitude one of brisk professionalism - after all, she was practiced at this sort of thing. "You're gunna have some scarring, too, I'm afraid. And not even the sort that fools those body scarring wankers into thinking you got some major work done, like mine."
Wanda very carefully shrugged one shoulder. "I have hand waved some of the other, odder scars and the men find them ... intriguing." Despite her words, there was some resignation in her voice. It was simply part of the job, really, and one that she had resigned herself to years ago. "I am simply happy that it seems to be healing well; everything else I can simply take in stride. With the help of my good friend Jameson, of course."
"Watch that with the painkillers, if you're still taking them. They made me loopy," Amanda warned with a small grin. "More so than India, if you can believe it. But yeah, looks like it's healing up all right. If you do those stretching exercises I gave you, you shouldn't lose too much mobility, even."
"I'll make sure to work them into my morning work out routine," Wanda promised, finally raising her head enough so she could attempt to peer back at Amanda. "It needed some changing to keep it from being boring, anyway. And did you say more loopy than India? I did not think that was possible..." Under the teasing tone was a subtle note of concern.
"Well, maybe I was exaggerating a bit." Amanda shrugged, grabbing a wipe to clean her hands with and tossing it in the trashcan. "I swear, next time I have to get up close and personal with a big power source, you lot will have to lock up my laptop to stop me being a total prat."
The bed creaked slightly as Wanda worked her way upright, careful to not jostle any of the new bandages Amanda had applied to her back. Her shirt was off to the side and she reached for it as she responded lightly, "Well, you were not a total prat." It took a second to pull the shirt over her head but she continued, more seriously, "How are you doing with the aftermath?"
"Jonesing for a fix like you wouldn't fucking believe," came the blunt response. Amanda looked a bit sheepish as she stepped back to give Wanda room. "With Sof on medical leave for now, I'm seeing my old bloke for counselling, which helps even if I have to pretend I'm a smack addict, and I have good days and bad ones. The other day on the journals with Doug... yeah, that was a bad one. My temper's been a bastard to control."
"You're recognizing it, at least," Wanda replied as she tugged the shirt down to cover the bandages. "Which is a good sign. Does not help when you're in the middle of a bad day, I know, but still." Turning around, she gave Amanda a good once over. "Will you let me know if there is anything I can do to help? I might not be in much shape to work you over in the ring to help your temper ease itself but I can certainly work you through your paces." She grinned, just a little, in remembrance of how their early training sessions used to go.
"I don't know which sucks more, being an addict, or being addicted to my own bloody powers," Amanda replied, pulling a face. "At least if it was something normal, I could quit and be done with it. Instead, I have to watch myself every time I have to tap into something big enough to give me a buzz." Then she grinned. "Still, I did get to toss Gladiator around like a toy - you sure about working me through my paces, Boss Lady? I'm a big gun these days." She wasn't at all serious."
Wanda's face was very carefully blank. "Oh, I'm sure this old woman has a few things up her sleeve to put any 'big gun' through their paces." Her lips twitched and she had to bit the bottom one to keep from laughing out loud. "That, my dear, is generally referred to as 'asking for it'. I'll come up with something for you in a day or two that'll take your mind off of things."
Her expression softened minutely as she added, "And that whole Gladiator thing? Well done, indeed."
"As long as it isn't throwing wrenches at me again," came the reply. "I could handle Mr. Superstrong Guardian of India just fine, but you start throwing tools at me and I might have to cry like a girl."
