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x-dazzler.livejournal.com posting in

In which Alison is loopy on pain meds, and interesting things happen...

Thursday, late afternoon.

She shifts on the couch slightly, wishing she felt steady enough to fetch another pillow, or that the letters of the book she is trying to read would stop dancing madly about. A faint giggle escapes her, however, and she smiles muzzily. "Noooo pain s'all good," she hums to herself, letting her head lean back on the couch and closing her eyes, drifing in the growing haze of the painkillers. Deep down she knows they're hitting harder than they ought to - but it's a small distant whisper of worry for now, soon forgotten in the glow of wellness she's enjoying.

Sam knocks on the door of Lorna and Alison's suite. No one answers, so he pushes it open and walks in, seeing Alison herself spread out on the couch. "Al?" he asks quietly, smiling as he hears her humming. "How're you feelin'?"

She smiles brightly up at him, a bubble of laughter escaping her as she tries to slowly bring herself to an upright position. Thankfully she uses the unbruised arm to push herself up, though the painkillers are so effective at this point she really isn't feeling any pain anyway. "Peachy keen!" she sings out cheerfully, biting her lip in concentration as she slowly ends up in a sitting position - only to weave to the other side slightly straightaway.

Sam laughs at her antics, shaking his head. "Woah there, missy, it looks like you got a little carried away with those painkillers!" He sits next to her on the couch, effectively propping her up, snickering as he does.

"Wheeee," she giggles again, leaning against him with a lazy smile and then shifting suddenly as the world turns - neatly curling up as she slides down and ends up leaning in his lap. "Oooh, pretty," she opines, eyeing the ceiling as she settles in, closing her eyes briefly before wincing at a faint throb pierces through the painkillers' effect. "Owie." She turns her head, glaring at her shoulder.

Sam blinks and grins at her, still amused by her...interesting state. "Aww... you're so hopped up on these pain killers, I'm real surprised you can feel anything..." He runs his fingers through her hair absently as she lies in his lap. "I'm awful sorry you had that tumble today. I swear I didn't think it'd end up doing you such an injury..." He's fairly sure she's not paying much attention to what he's saying, but he feels like talking anyway.

"Bruises on my bruises," she drawls with a disconcertingly cheerful gleam in her eyes, before shifting in his lap with a languid murmur, angling for a more comfortable position. She blinks slowly, and then licks her lips, brow knitting into a tiny frown as she tries to remember what he just said. "S'not your fault," she finally says, smiling triumphantly. "Nasty bee's fault... bad baaaad bee." She nods self-righteously, before turning to give him a smug look. "Fence nasty too."

"Oh, well yeah, that horrible nasty fence...never a piece of wood more malicious'n'that!" Sam laughs, tucking a piece of hair behind Alison's ear. He leans in closer, saying in a loud stage whisper, "I think it was a conspiracy. The fence and the bee."

She stares up at him for a moment, and then makes a soft sound at the back of her throat, reaching up to wind her good arm around his neck. "Fence and the bee," she murmurs agreeably, smiling up at him with a warm look. She pulls herself up a bit, bringing herself nose to nose with him.

Sam goes cross-eyed for a moment, looking at Alison's nose pressed against his. He turns his blue eyes on hers, still smiling softly. He crosses his arm over his chest to rest his hand, warm and rough, on her forearm. He doesn't bother to speak, letting the soft silence rest between them for a minute.

Still holding herself up, Alison's eyes close briefly, and she inhales slowly - the faint smells of hay and soap mingle with the lotion rubbed on her shoulder earlier, and she wrinkles her nose. Opening up her eyes again, she smiles impishly at Sam. Still keeping her arm firmly around his neck, she shifts her hips, wriggling in his lap as she tries to get a good angle.

"Erm..." Sam makes a wide variety of interesting noises as Alison shifts and squirms in his lap, as the friction isn't exactly the most. Comfortable. Sensation.

She giggles at the sounds he makes, clearly easily entertained, and shifts a bit more before finally deciding that she's comfortable enough. Moving her bruised shoulder a few times she smiles smugly at the decided lack of pain and then pressed up close to him, bringing her lips to his ear. "I have something to teeeeellll you," she whispers huskily.

He swallows thickly, breath coming heavily, decidedly uncomfortable. Thoughts whirl around in his head, and none of them settle, and he has no idea what to do.

"Oh...you. You do?" His voice is thin, and he tries to look away, but can't.

"Mmmm," she purrs against him, fingers twining in his hair. She slowly shifts her head and with a faint exhalation that would have been a chuckle had it not turned into something else, she presses her lips against his, melting into him with a faint moan.

Sam's eyes widen, Alison's lips on his muffling any sound of protest he might make.

What the hell! Does she...I don't even...

His thoughts are as incoherent as his muffled whines, and slowly, as Alison melts into him, lips still on his, he begins to kiss her back: tentative, halting, pupils dilating as his hands slide around her waist.

His response is all she needs to spur her on and she deepens the kiss, shifting around so that she can straddle him, sliding slowly into his lap to press up against him fully. The drugged haze swirls about her but she runs her hands though Sam's hair, focusing only on one thing - making what she is almost certain is only a dream last as long as possible.

Sam swallows, trembling slightly as Alison's legs tighten around his thighs. This isn't happening. I must be imagining it. She doesn't know what she's doing...havetostopitnow!

His panicked mental calls begin getting through, and he starts pulling his hands slowly away from where they rest on her back. "Alison...Al..." he tries to mumble into her mouth, even as he seeks it. "Stop...what are you..."

And yet he can't seem to stop himself, try as he might, as he kisses the corner of her mouth, sweet and oh-so-right.

She pauses at his words, and he feels her wilt as she pushes from him, looking downwards with long slow blinks, a faint smile on her face as she leans her face down into his shoulder and then slides sideways from his lap on the couch to curl up into his side. She sinks against him with a sigh, a faint whimper escaping her as her shoulder twinges once more. Stop Alison. That's right... Even in dreams... All I'll ever be... is your "... best friend." The faint murmur escapes her as she nestles against him, hiding her face in his neck, senses numb at the edges and unable even to cry as the world turns dizzyingly around her - and finally gives in to the sweet call of oblivion.

Sam falters, watching Alison curl in on herself, feeling a cold absence where she had been sitting only moments before. His face is blank as her slurred words register, and he stares at the wall, once again not knowing what to do.

He brushes the back of his hand against her face, standing and letting her settle into the warm place where he had been sitting. He walks slowly towards the door, turning and giving her a long, sad, confused look before he leaves, shutting the door softly behind himself.

It won't ever be the same, will it? Not again... not again... I promised myself...

Just best friends...