xp_logs | [Sarah, Paul] You wanted some information? (Reply)

Tradition and superstition get the best of Paul and he puts off having a shower to go tell Sarah what's going on, at least as far as Shinobi's condition goes. He gets out unscathed and she even smiles at him. Are we sure she's not chanelling Shinobi's concussion?

Paul got to his room and sighed, stretching and starting to undo his uniform. Walking to his desk, he woke up his computer and hit 'refresh' on his browser automatically. He read the top post and shook his head. He didn't know Sarah or Shinobi but etiquette... no, superstition, even... demanded that someone from the mission go talk to her. He stopped to give Delphine a pet. "Papa will be back in a minute," he assured her. And then he headed for the basement to knock on Sarah's door and fill her in.

Sarah really didn't care how it happened, whether on the journals or by person, she just wanted to be let in on why the basement hallway was suddenly the place to be. Things were now a lot less quiet as Oscar was determined to be let out to investigate. He sniffed and whined at the door, a paw stretched out to test fitting _under_ the door. He let out a startled bark at the knocking, and Sarah wrapped her hand around his collar when she went to open the door. "You know, if you'd be quiet for a minute, maybe I could think," she told the puppy dryly.

Barking? Right, Sarah had a puppy. Paul waited for the girl to open the door, running his hands through his hair. Of all of them, he looked the least dishevelled, that was certain. "Hello," he said when she opened the door, feeling a little awkward. "You wanted some information?"

If Sarah had known who had gone on the mission, Paul's appearance would have been Sarah's cue to worry. Instead, she tugged Oscar back gently, pulling a bone from her shoulder and tossing it into the far corner of the room. The puppy went scrambling after it. "Yeah. What's with the takeover down here? Crowds like this only happen when something's gone and blown u-- oh. Oh shit. Did something go wrong on the mission?"

"Wrong?" Paul shook his head. In his mind, nothing had gone wrong at all, everything had been par for the course really, and this was close to the best-case scenario. "No, not at all. There's just some of the cuts and bruises that come when the team's physically vulnerable, even if it's strong. It went very well, all things considered. I just needed to come and tell you that Shinobi may be kept in the lab for a little bit, even when the others clear out. He got a fair crack on the head."

"Oh, terrific," she said with a shake of her head, and just the hint of a smirk on her face. Let's face it, there are much worse things that could have happened, and at least she wouldn't feel bad mocking him (all in love, promise!) if he had a concussion. "So that's where he is right now?"

"Yes, for now. No word on how long he'll be there. Last I heard, Scott was in talking to him," Paul said. "He'll be fine. Just wanted to let you know from one of us before the rumour beast that stalks the halls started to whisper that he'd been lobotomized or something equally wild."

She laughed, dropping down onto the edge of her bed with a heavy exhale. "I'm not that far away from the medlab; I'd have figured it out by then. But thanks anyway." Oscar nosed his way under her hand, and she scratched gently behind his ears. "Guess we're back to 15 minute visits again."

Paul tilted his head, wondering, then recalled what he'd read on the journals. "Not for long. He got his bell rung but it's not a big deal." He was bad at being reassuring, he was sure of it. "They might let you sit up with him if they're keeping him awake for observation. I hate it when they do that." He scowled, remembering. It was always at night, and your head hurt too much to read and there was nothing to do but stare at the ceiling. Here, though, they probably had televisions in the rooms, unlike the utilitarian goverment medlabs.

"Maybe. I hope so. It's only fair after all." She looked down at her hands for a minute, pulling in the bone growing along her fingers. Somehow she doubted he'd be in the mood to counteract her mutation with a concussion. She looked back up again, smiling. "Thanks. It helps knowing what's going on."

"Not a problem." Paul shrugged. He didn't know her except by reputation and a smile was something he wasn't expecting from her. "Look," he said, floundering a little for how to put it right. He didn't know how they did things here, but the way they were stepping in each other's business every time they turned around, he figured they looked out for each other. The offer needed making. "If there's something he needs, or you do... while he's in there... say so. It's a team thing," he explained quickly. "Just. How it's done."

Sarah nodded. "We'll be fine," she reassured him. Never was one to to accept much help from others. "But I'll keep that in mind."

That was better. She was a self-sufficient young woman. Paul liked her already. "I figured as much," he said, a little relieved. "I'm off to get the glass and dust out of my hair now." He was gritty and it was more than a little irritating. He gave her a smile and backed out of her doorway.