Jono and Paige, late

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Paige and Jono are, once again, up way past their bedtime. So, they try to find something interesting to do and instead end up talking about how Jono doesn't actually love Paige. But does. Assumptions run wild!


It was late again and once again Paige was awake. Awake and wouldn’t be getting to sleep any time soon. The only other person she knew who wouldn’t be sleeping right about now would be one Jono Starsmore. Luckily, she was somewhat fond of him.

It didn’t take long for her to figure out where Jono would be. There were only so many places, especially since Sarah was no longer around, and as she entered the rec room to find the television flicking through it’s countless channels at high speeds she knew she’d figured his hiding spot.

“Anything good on?” she asked, settling onto the other end of the couch he was currently curiously occupying.

Raising his head where it hung near the floor, with his feet up on the back of the sofa, Jono peered at Paige. "Quelle surprise," he deadpanned. "Insomniacs anonymous is meeting again. And, no, of course there's nothing good on."

Paige rolled her eyes, turning over to mimic the position he currently held. At least the lack of interesting television was made more appealing this way. Perhaps it was all the blood rushing to her head. “Your addition of random French into the conversation made the sarcasm especially effective.”

"I'm special," Jono remarked casually, haphazardly aiming the remote at the telly again. "And bloody sodding bored. What's your excuse, love?"

If Paige had winced, which she had, it was barely noticeable and covered up by the fact that there happened to be flashing lights in the room. “I don’t sleep.”

"Sort of like you don't eat either if there's something else to pay attention to?" Jono gave her a doubtful look. "Yeah, and don't argue, I've seen you do that."

“Yeah, yeah,” Paige replied dismissively, stretching out her legs until her knees gave a crack before crossing them at the ankles again. “I’m going to kill myself one day, we get it.”

"And they say I have an attitude problem," Jono muttered, going through the next ten channels. It was all in the wrist. "You should have that thing looked at. It's not normal. Healthy. Whatever."

Paige turned her head to look at him, smiling. “You’ve rubbed off on me, obviously.” Paige rolled her ankles, listening to them crack as well. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Pardon?”

"Oh, ha ha." Jono poked at her with the remote. "Well, since you're awake, want to do something else than lie here getting all your blood in your head?"

Paige grabbed at his wrist, holding tight and away from the poking of her vicinity. She gave him an amused look, sitting up just enough so that she might get her head on the couch and her legs over one of the arms. “Anything ingenious in mind?”

Jono made a token struggle, then let her hold his arm. The remote clattered on the floor, and the telly had stopped on what seemed like endless commercials. "Ingenious? Not really, but we could go see if anyone's forgotten a door open to somewhere interesting."

“We have places interesting in here with locked doors?” Paige asked suspiciously. “Is this another one of those things where I don’t want to know?” Convinced that Jono wouldn’t be doing any more poking for a little while, Paige released him, resting the back of her head on his side.

"Why else would there be so many doctors around? I'm sure they're trying to create a race of super soldiers in the basement." Jono let his hands flop over his head, resting them palms up on the floor. "Or something just as outrageously sci-fi."

Paige yawned and rolled her eyes simultaneously. “You’ve been watching too much television. We need to get you out more. Or at least, keep you busier.”

"No Scrabble", Jono said immediately. "Or Mahjong." He watched the flicker of the telly for an idle moment, thinking. "You should go sleep."

“Mm… comfy,” Paige mumbled, swatting at him without any real force behind it. “You like Mahjong.”

"No, I don't," Jono replied automatically. "But it's better than Solitaire." He glanced up at Paige, who had made herself obviously comfortable on the stop. "Or you could just sleep there."

Paige blinked long, staring up at the ceiling. She thought better than commenting on that. “No, no sleeping. Not yet. Perhaps I’ll wait until your spine isn’t at such bizarre angles.”

Jono subsided, not trying to argue back about bizarre. "Look out," he said instead, rolling off the sofa, and ending up in a sprawl on the floor.

Looking over the edge of the couch Paige gave him an amused smile. “That was very graceful, heart.” Her hand dangled over the side, brushing at his temple. “Smooth even.”

It could have been a trick of the light, but Jono seemed pleased with himself. "See, all the hours spent in Self Defence weren't wasted. I've learned to get up from a sofa." He sat up a little, leaning against the piece of furniture.

“And you know, to defend yourself,” Paige observed idly, suddenly reminding herself of Tess from Ocean’s Eleven. Maybe she watched too much television as well. Her eyes fluttered to half closed, watching him through blonde lashes.

"No." Jono waved his hand vaguely. "I blow blokes' faces off when I need to defend myself." He sat quietly for a while, contemplating that, then glanced at Paige. "Are you asleep yet?"

Paige had obviously been pondering in the silence herself and came out of her half asleep state to mumble quietly, “Was London real?”

"Real? What do you mean?" Jono turned, crossing his arms on the sofa and leaning his chin on them. He could barely make out the faint images of Paige's sleepy thoughts when he tried to understand what she meant.

Turning her head to the side, Paige regarded him with unfocused eyes. “When you came home… from home. You were wet. Was that real?”

Jono reached out a little and touched her lower lip with his forefinger. "Did you think it was a dream?"

“I hoped not,” Paige whispered, hindered only slightly by his contact. “But I wonder.”

The images were clearer with the touch, but Jono didn't know for sure if they were his own memories instead of hers. "I meant it to be real", he said, hesitating almost.

Paige twisted away, looking at the soft cream of the couch fabrics very close up. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to play with words when you’ve gone and linked yourself to someone?”

"I just never win, do I." But the words didn't seem to be aimed at Paige in particular. Jono turned half-way away, attention on the telly for a change. Then he leaned his cheek on the edge of the sofa, peering up at her. "I do love you. In London, at that moment, I just-" he stopped before digging his grave too deep.

“You just what? Needed someone and I happened to be conveniently dating you?” Paige sighed, finding herself rolling over again, eye-to-eye with him once more. “Never mind. It’s not my place. I of all people should not be lecturing you about this sort of thing.”

"No," Jono said hurriedly. "I needed you. Not just anyone. You."

Moving her hand to brush Jono’s hair she tried to smile a little, finding only a memory of it would come. “All right.” There was nothing else she could say. Nothing else that she had a right to say, anyway.

Knowing everything was not all right, as she had just said, Jono merely nodded. He didn't know what he could say without possibly making the whole thing worse. He seemed gifted like that.

Paige laughed then, a soft snort at the messes they always managed to get themselves into. “Would you pretend, or whatever you do, for a little while longer then? I… I need some sleep.”

"Yeah, you do," Jono agreed, climbing to his feet and turning off the telly before inserting himself on the sofa. If they lay on their sides, it was wide enough for two. He liked to think the bit about pretending hadn't hurt because it was nothing he himself hadn't said before or didn't deserve.