Scott and Paige play cute

[x-foliate.livejournal.com]

Paige plays ninja and sneaks past Maddie to go see Scott. Somehow, she manages to do this while wearing really obnoxious glasses that made an appearance in this log. Around the first third, Paige and Scott transform into Kaylee and Mal. We're not sure how it happened; consider it a game of "Spot The Firefly References".


His head hurt. Not too badly, but enough to make reading a bit of an iffy proposition, and Scott set the book Hank had given him aside, sighing as he leaned back against the pillows. He didn't understand why he couldn't have rested in his own suite; it wasn't as if he'd taken that much radiation, and if he'd gotten a little rattled around when the blast hit, he'd had worse in training.

There was a light rap on the door, just sharp enough to be heard but not too brain piercing, followed by a set of eyes and nose peeking around the door. The eyes were covered in very large, very ugly sunglasses that had somehow escaped Paige’s room cleaning with Shinobi ages ago, and there was a crinkle in her face that suggested she was grinning. “Is it safe to come in, Captain?”

Scott raised an eyebrow. "Safe," he said a bit warily, a smile tugging at his lips. "And what the hell are those things on your face, Paige? I'm not actually glowing, you know..."

“Really ugly sunglasses, sir.” Paige stepped into the room and crossed over, sitting on the edge of his bed. Chairs were for people with boundary issues in her opinion. “One can never be too careful.”

"Proper, forward-thinking strategy," Scott said approvingly, unable to keep the smile from growing. He shifted over to give her a little more room. "So, did you see my very undignified landing? Or just hear Haroun's anguished sobbing..."

Paige nodded, chin loftily in the air, but there was an obvious sparkle behind the glasses. “Thank you, sir.” Making herself comfortable and smoothing out the blankets near her, Paige continued. “I am afraid I missed the landing, but Mister... al-Rashid’s sobbing with a mix of angry, manly screaming was rather distracting, yes. Luckily, it was a distraction from choosing paint colors, so I can’t complain overly much, so long as everyone’s all right?”

"I haven't heard the latest on Shiro," Scott said with a sigh. "Paul had to go out and get him - took an awful lot of radiation. It's a good thing he's as sturdy as he is. He's going to be pretty damned sick for a while, though. And Nathan..." Scott paused, shaking his head. "Well, Nathan caught the jet. Which is something I'm still wrapping my mind around. I expect he'll have the migraine from hell for the next week or so. He and I are just in here for observation - we stayed in the plane like smart people do, so we didn't take much in the way of radiation."

“Well, normally they give us very grave announcements when someone is mortally wounded, so let’s have some faith that everyone will be okay.” Paige’s tone was optimistic as she took off her sunglasses with one hand. Xavier’s comments, as well as Doctor Bartlet’s requests, were being ignored for the moment in lieu of happy thoughts. “You know, I think I could actually fit these over your visor if I really wanted to, they’re so huge,” she observed idly, lining up her glasses with his and squinting slightly.

"Just what I need," Scott said with a chuckle. "Eight eyes." She grinned at him and he relaxed a little more, smiling wearily back. "We broke the Blackbird," he said mournfully. "I think Charles will take it out of my allowance for the next few centuries."

Paige gasped, hand over her mouth and eyes wide. “No more Blackbird? You are cutting my ace pilot career very shorts, sir.”

"We broke the Blackbird," Scott grumbled. "Not destroyed the Blackbird. Broke the Blackbird." He gave her his very best innocent look. "And Moira's going to beat me."

"Well! I never!" Paige huffed, looking quite mortified before abruptly changing the facial expression and shifting her eyes to one side. "Well, that's not quite true, but still."

"Ohh. Not where my mind needed to go right now, thank you," Scott said with a laugh, swatting her arm as he leaned back. His head twinged and he grimaced, closing his eyes for a moment. "Make a note, Guthrie. Radiation poisoning is no fun."

Paige grinned and swiped her arm away, rubbing it a moment good naturedly before bringing it around to mime writing on her hand. “Radiation... poisoning... equals zero fun,” she said slowly, tongue sticking out between her teeth as if concentrating heavily. “Sir, you’re missing my very awesome miming act here.”

"Mmm." He raised his head, a little too quickly, and swallowed as his stomach protested. She was indeed pulling off some very respectable miming. "If this X-Man thing doesn't work out for you, Paige, you could always make a living as a performance artist."

“Or a pillow. I’m told I’m a very good pillow,” Paige replied seriously as she “put away” her writing utensils. “But I think I’d prefer the saving lives thing if you don’t mind.”

Scott smiled a little. "No, don't mind at all," he said quietly, watching her. "I told you," he added, after a moment.

“Just checking,” Paige answered cheerfully, drawing out the vowel in ‘just’ until it was almost a sing-song.

"I flatter myself that I'm consistent," Scott said, mock-severely. "Irradiated brain or not. Will I still be your Captain if I start getting forgetful?" He tried the innocent look again.

Paige gave him an adoring look, patting his arm. “You’ll always be my Captain. Just you’ll be Captain Leathersuit or Captain Stick-up-the-bum because once I say it you’ll forget anyway!” Paige smiled brightly at him. “We have such a nice working relationship.”

"Just so long as I'm never Captain Fuckwad, then I won't make you walk the plank." Yes, definitely an irradiated brain. "I can't write my mission report," he said, making a face at Paige. "They won't let me have a computer."

“No plank then! I’d write it for you but I don’t think my hand is big enough,” Paige observed, showing him her palm. “Besides, I think they were trying to hint at something with the lack of computer.”

"I don't want to sleep," Scott said, indulging himself with the petulant tone. "Sneak one in for me? I'd owe you one."

Paige looked surprised, edging into mischievous. “Captain, are you asking me to break the rules?”

"Break them, bend them, blame it all on me if you get caught?" Scott said hopefully, then pouted again. "I need my computer. Otherwise I just sit here and wonder just how low my white-blood cell count is that Hank was making tsking noises."

“Oh! I know how to test that, just let me get a hammer,” Paige said, making to get up off the bed before grinning and settling back down again. “Maybe getting your computer would be healthier. Besides, who am I to ignore a direct order?”

"I love you," Scott said adoringly. "In a purely fraternal way, of course."

Paige nodded solemnly. “Otherwise, it may be illegal. Or at least very, very wrong.” She found herself patting his arm again without realizing it and blinked. “Oh. And I love my Captain, too. Just in case that wasn’t obnoxiously obvious with your irradiated brain and all.”

"Never hurts to be reminded." He closed his eyes again for a moment, reflecting that they actually felt rather good that way.

“Yes, well...” Paige trailed off, watching him for a moment with a sort of gentle smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “You continue doing that, in which there will be no sleep involved whatsoever I am sure, and when you don’t wake up from your lack of nap, there should be a computer nearby.”

"Mmm... right. Computer," Scott murmured. These medlab beds weren't really all that uncomfortable, as much as people liked to bitch...

“Yes, Captain, that’s right. Computer,” she said softly, getting up as carefully as she could to avoid disturbing him. “Have a nice lack of sleep, sir.”