Alison and Scott
Oct. 2nd, 2004 12:03 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsTakes place on Thursday afternoon-ish. Mostly some silly, and then more silly. And fluff. And silly. Did I say silly?
Betsy would probably term his current mood 'snippy', Scott reflected as he stalked out of the elevator. Her habit of delicate understatement was usually amusing, but he thought he'd skip the pleasure, today. In favor of... what? Sulking?
The stalking out of the elevator brought the unfortunate result of Alison being stalked right into however, and she blinked as she made a grab for his arms to support herself. "Ack! What did I do to you!?" she yelped, not really meaning it but figuring she might as well play it up as much as possible. She caught herself just fine, high heels and all, much to her satisfaction – still used to wearing those, after all that time in sneakers.
"Sorry, Ali," Scott muttered repentantly as she steadied herself. "Wasn't watching where I was going..."
"Scott, I never would have guessed," she snickered. "You're lucky I didn't step on your foot," she told him solemnly, clicking the heel of her shoe on the floor. And tilted her head, looking at him pensively. "Wait a minute... are you actually pouting?"
Scott gave her an outraged look. "I am not pouting," he said stiffly.
Trying to keep a straight face, Alison took a step back, looking him over carefully. "Hmm. Stomping out of the elevator. Dark cloud practically floating over your head. And... yep, there it is. You're pouting, Scott. No other way to say it." A snicker escaped her, although she managed to keep from actually laughing.
"I'm glad I'm amusing you," Scott muttered and turned away, starting down the hall. Annoyingly, she followed him. "Something I can do for you?" he asked pointedly.
"Yes!" She beamed at him, easily matching his strides, the heels clicking in rhythm on the floor. "Talk to me." She knew her voice was probably very annoyingly cheerful to him, but he really was pouting and it was just so very cute. "Why the pout?"
"I am not pouting. Just because you say it several times doesn't make it true." Scott glowered at her briefly, but kept walking. "I just need to go find something else to do with the evening."
Alison stopped, staring at him in shock and then growing delight. "Scott! I'm so proud of you!" She beamed, bouncing forward and hugging him briefly, stopping him in midstep in the process, before releasing him. "Good for you!"
Scott's jaw dropped, just a little. "Proud... of me. For what?"
"You're at a loss of what to do! That's great!" She beamed, ridiculously pleased, even as she figured it was probably mean to tease him that way. Only she really was pleased. "Seriously. Never thought I'd hear you say that," she said, smile softening. "It's good to hear."
"I'm at a loss as to what to do because Haroun won't let me near the Blackbird!" Scott blurted without thinking.
"..." Alison swallowed hard, lips quirking steadily into a smile despite her best efforts. "Really?" she murmured in a strangled voice. "Mm. Fancy that." A giggle escaped her. "He takes really good care of her, y'know." Oops, had that been another giggle?
Scott threw his hands up in the air. "Apparently he's doing something sensitive," he said sarcastically, "and 'doesn't need help, thanks anyway, Scott. Run along and find something else to do now.'"
"Probably wants to baby talk her into behaving properly and he can't do that if there are witnesses," Alison pointed out, matter of fact. And then clapped a hand to her mouth. "Ohmigod. Did I say that out loud? Tell me I didn't say that out loud? I didn't right? You didn't hear that!"
Scott raised an eyebrow. "He... uses babytalk on the plane," he said slowly, then shook his head. He really didn't want to know. He didn't. Bad enough that Haroun had stolen his plane in the first place. If he was striking up some sort of twisted romance with it, Scott really, really didn't want to know.
"Oh good. You won't tell him I told you that, right?" That would so be the trigger for much righteous vengeance taking place. Although it did sound fun, now that she thought of it. "Because, you know... I'd get in trouble. Lots of it." She nodded wisely, hands falling to her sides once more.
"You're pouting again." Oh well, there were other ways to get in trouble. "And you know, he's taking perfectly good care of your plane. He's very good with his hands," she informed him blithely.
"I'm sure he is," Scott said sarcastically. "And I know he's taking good care of the plane. Why wouldn't he be? He has a degree in aeronautical engineering, after all."
"You sound like a five year old," Alison noted, highly amused. "Yes, he does. Very smart man he is, too. And the Blackbird is bound to flourish under his tender loving care, mmm?"
"Fine!" Scott threw his hands up, again. "The Blackbird is better off with him! Haroun is the best thing since sliced bread! Happy?"
"This is the part where you stamp your foot." She nodded gravely. "You can't forget the foot stamp. Those are crucial."
Scott gaped at her. "You're making fun of me!" he accused.
"No. I'm telling you to stamp your foot. If you're going to have a good fit, you stamp your foot. You've got the arm wave down pat," she added approvingly. "Well? Where's my foot stamping mister?" She tapped her own foot on the ground, giving him a stern look.
He folded his arms across his chest instead. "I'm glad you're finding this so funny." He did not stamp his foot. "I should have just... punched him in the nose or something," he muttered.
"That would be a pity," she opined, studying her fingernails. "Then his nose would have been all smooshed up." She slid him a sidelong look. "You know you want to stamp that foot."
"It'd look better that way!"
"Mmm. I beg to differ." She grinned. "And besides, it's Haroun. He's punch you right back. Especially over the Blackbird." He had practically cooed at the airplane, after all.
There was a small, but growing part of Scott that was starting to see the comedy value of the conversation. All they needed was an audience of kids gaping at them. "He's not so tough," Scott insisted, his lips twitching. "I bet he has a glass jaw."
"Does not." She hid a grin. Things were going very nicely. "And I think you should put your money where your mouth is." She lifted her chin in challenge.
Okay, now she was losing him. "You think I should hit Haroun?" He gave her his best innocent look. "Can I tell Charles you gave me permission if he calls me on it?"
"No you can't. I have a training session coming up with him. I can hit him just fine on my own." There, let him chew on that for a while. "Besides. No foot stamping, no hitting Haroun. Only fair."
Scott made a face at her, then let his arms fall back to his sides. "I suppose this is a sign that I've still got a little much in the way of repressed stress going on, isn't it?"
"Hey. I got you to pout at me and argue. I'd say we're making progress." She finally gave in, laughing quietly. "We'll get you to the full diva display, foot stamping and all, soon enough." She shrugged, with a disarming grin. "Hey, you've got an expert to help you out there if nothing else."
"I just wanted to see what needed doing," Scott said a bit forlornly, then felt obligated to confess something. "He didn't actually tell me to run along and find something else to do. Just told me he 'had it'."
"That strikes me as very much like him," she said, reaching out to pat his arm lightly – not entirely sure why she'd said that other than it felt pretty accurate to her. "A bit possessive about what's his and all." She paused. "Erm. You know what I mean?" Gah. Maybe she shouldn't have phrased it that way.
"Can't I just hit him? Once?" Maybe he could set up a training session, seize the opportunity... "Although it looks like someone already punched him in the face this week," Scott conceded, brightening a little.
"No you ca- wait." Alison blinked at that, before starting to frown slowly. "What do you mean it looks like someone already punched him this week?" she asked evenly, giving him a 'answer this if you know what's good for you' look without even realizing it.
Scott blinked. "Well, someone did. The bruises are definitely fading from what they were the other day, but it still looks like someone landed a good hit or two. Sparring session, maybe?" He laughed a bit wryly. "I hadn't heard about any actual fights needing to be broken up."
"Funny, I've managed to get all my training done without looking like someone punched me in the face," Alison grumbled, still a bit peeved for no particular reason at that point.
"He's been training quite a bit with Nathan lately," Scott said with a snort. "I'm surprised one of them hasn't landed in the medlab yet."
Oh yes, Alison's eyes were narrowing at this. And it was not the glint of happiness in her eyes, for that matter. "Oh. Training, huh. That's what they've been calling it?" And wonderful. Trying to corner Haroun on this would be an exercise in futility. She wasn't all that sure about Nathan either. But she had better odds there. Possibly. Gah, men.
"I'm going to have to start refereeing, I suspect," Scott said almost cheerfully. Look how he'd stumbled on an even better way to get back at Haroun. Wasn't it funny how things worked out. And Nathan... well, if Nathan could weather Moira's temper he could certainly handle Alison's. "I mean, after the whole setting-Haroun-on-fire thing..."
"Scott? You're doing that on purpose aren't you?" she asked him sweetly, holding both her hands carefully behind her back to not take a swipe at him. She'd known about the setting on fire part. Though come to think of it, Haroun seemed to have a disturbing tendency to not deal too well with the elements. First on fire, then attempting to drown himself...
"Me? Humorless old Captain Fuckwad? Surely you jest."
The swipe left on it's own really, Alison swatting him on the shoulder. "Oooh!"
"Now you're beating on me," Scott said with a certain amount of mirth. "It's all downhill from here."
"Maybe I'll just tickle you to death, how about that?" she retorted, feeling rather victorious about this whole conversation for some reason.
"Oh, but then I could tell Betsy that you can't keep your hands off me," Scott pointed out with a perfectly straight face. "And that could be ugly."
She gaped at him for a moment, laughter catching up with her a moment later. "Scott!" And that was worthy of taking up the challenge as far as she was concerned, which she didn't waste any time doing, grinning wickedly.
Betsy would probably term his current mood 'snippy', Scott reflected as he stalked out of the elevator. Her habit of delicate understatement was usually amusing, but he thought he'd skip the pleasure, today. In favor of... what? Sulking?
The stalking out of the elevator brought the unfortunate result of Alison being stalked right into however, and she blinked as she made a grab for his arms to support herself. "Ack! What did I do to you!?" she yelped, not really meaning it but figuring she might as well play it up as much as possible. She caught herself just fine, high heels and all, much to her satisfaction – still used to wearing those, after all that time in sneakers.
"Sorry, Ali," Scott muttered repentantly as she steadied herself. "Wasn't watching where I was going..."
"Scott, I never would have guessed," she snickered. "You're lucky I didn't step on your foot," she told him solemnly, clicking the heel of her shoe on the floor. And tilted her head, looking at him pensively. "Wait a minute... are you actually pouting?"
Scott gave her an outraged look. "I am not pouting," he said stiffly.
Trying to keep a straight face, Alison took a step back, looking him over carefully. "Hmm. Stomping out of the elevator. Dark cloud practically floating over your head. And... yep, there it is. You're pouting, Scott. No other way to say it." A snicker escaped her, although she managed to keep from actually laughing.
"I'm glad I'm amusing you," Scott muttered and turned away, starting down the hall. Annoyingly, she followed him. "Something I can do for you?" he asked pointedly.
"Yes!" She beamed at him, easily matching his strides, the heels clicking in rhythm on the floor. "Talk to me." She knew her voice was probably very annoyingly cheerful to him, but he really was pouting and it was just so very cute. "Why the pout?"
"I am not pouting. Just because you say it several times doesn't make it true." Scott glowered at her briefly, but kept walking. "I just need to go find something else to do with the evening."
Alison stopped, staring at him in shock and then growing delight. "Scott! I'm so proud of you!" She beamed, bouncing forward and hugging him briefly, stopping him in midstep in the process, before releasing him. "Good for you!"
Scott's jaw dropped, just a little. "Proud... of me. For what?"
"You're at a loss of what to do! That's great!" She beamed, ridiculously pleased, even as she figured it was probably mean to tease him that way. Only she really was pleased. "Seriously. Never thought I'd hear you say that," she said, smile softening. "It's good to hear."
"I'm at a loss as to what to do because Haroun won't let me near the Blackbird!" Scott blurted without thinking.
"..." Alison swallowed hard, lips quirking steadily into a smile despite her best efforts. "Really?" she murmured in a strangled voice. "Mm. Fancy that." A giggle escaped her. "He takes really good care of her, y'know." Oops, had that been another giggle?
Scott threw his hands up in the air. "Apparently he's doing something sensitive," he said sarcastically, "and 'doesn't need help, thanks anyway, Scott. Run along and find something else to do now.'"
"Probably wants to baby talk her into behaving properly and he can't do that if there are witnesses," Alison pointed out, matter of fact. And then clapped a hand to her mouth. "Ohmigod. Did I say that out loud? Tell me I didn't say that out loud? I didn't right? You didn't hear that!"
Scott raised an eyebrow. "He... uses babytalk on the plane," he said slowly, then shook his head. He really didn't want to know. He didn't. Bad enough that Haroun had stolen his plane in the first place. If he was striking up some sort of twisted romance with it, Scott really, really didn't want to know.
"Oh good. You won't tell him I told you that, right?" That would so be the trigger for much righteous vengeance taking place. Although it did sound fun, now that she thought of it. "Because, you know... I'd get in trouble. Lots of it." She nodded wisely, hands falling to her sides once more.
"You're pouting again." Oh well, there were other ways to get in trouble. "And you know, he's taking perfectly good care of your plane. He's very good with his hands," she informed him blithely.
"I'm sure he is," Scott said sarcastically. "And I know he's taking good care of the plane. Why wouldn't he be? He has a degree in aeronautical engineering, after all."
"You sound like a five year old," Alison noted, highly amused. "Yes, he does. Very smart man he is, too. And the Blackbird is bound to flourish under his tender loving care, mmm?"
"Fine!" Scott threw his hands up, again. "The Blackbird is better off with him! Haroun is the best thing since sliced bread! Happy?"
"This is the part where you stamp your foot." She nodded gravely. "You can't forget the foot stamp. Those are crucial."
Scott gaped at her. "You're making fun of me!" he accused.
"No. I'm telling you to stamp your foot. If you're going to have a good fit, you stamp your foot. You've got the arm wave down pat," she added approvingly. "Well? Where's my foot stamping mister?" She tapped her own foot on the ground, giving him a stern look.
He folded his arms across his chest instead. "I'm glad you're finding this so funny." He did not stamp his foot. "I should have just... punched him in the nose or something," he muttered.
"That would be a pity," she opined, studying her fingernails. "Then his nose would have been all smooshed up." She slid him a sidelong look. "You know you want to stamp that foot."
"It'd look better that way!"
"Mmm. I beg to differ." She grinned. "And besides, it's Haroun. He's punch you right back. Especially over the Blackbird." He had practically cooed at the airplane, after all.
There was a small, but growing part of Scott that was starting to see the comedy value of the conversation. All they needed was an audience of kids gaping at them. "He's not so tough," Scott insisted, his lips twitching. "I bet he has a glass jaw."
"Does not." She hid a grin. Things were going very nicely. "And I think you should put your money where your mouth is." She lifted her chin in challenge.
Okay, now she was losing him. "You think I should hit Haroun?" He gave her his best innocent look. "Can I tell Charles you gave me permission if he calls me on it?"
"No you can't. I have a training session coming up with him. I can hit him just fine on my own." There, let him chew on that for a while. "Besides. No foot stamping, no hitting Haroun. Only fair."
Scott made a face at her, then let his arms fall back to his sides. "I suppose this is a sign that I've still got a little much in the way of repressed stress going on, isn't it?"
"Hey. I got you to pout at me and argue. I'd say we're making progress." She finally gave in, laughing quietly. "We'll get you to the full diva display, foot stamping and all, soon enough." She shrugged, with a disarming grin. "Hey, you've got an expert to help you out there if nothing else."
"I just wanted to see what needed doing," Scott said a bit forlornly, then felt obligated to confess something. "He didn't actually tell me to run along and find something else to do. Just told me he 'had it'."
"That strikes me as very much like him," she said, reaching out to pat his arm lightly – not entirely sure why she'd said that other than it felt pretty accurate to her. "A bit possessive about what's his and all." She paused. "Erm. You know what I mean?" Gah. Maybe she shouldn't have phrased it that way.
"Can't I just hit him? Once?" Maybe he could set up a training session, seize the opportunity... "Although it looks like someone already punched him in the face this week," Scott conceded, brightening a little.
"No you ca- wait." Alison blinked at that, before starting to frown slowly. "What do you mean it looks like someone already punched him this week?" she asked evenly, giving him a 'answer this if you know what's good for you' look without even realizing it.
Scott blinked. "Well, someone did. The bruises are definitely fading from what they were the other day, but it still looks like someone landed a good hit or two. Sparring session, maybe?" He laughed a bit wryly. "I hadn't heard about any actual fights needing to be broken up."
"Funny, I've managed to get all my training done without looking like someone punched me in the face," Alison grumbled, still a bit peeved for no particular reason at that point.
"He's been training quite a bit with Nathan lately," Scott said with a snort. "I'm surprised one of them hasn't landed in the medlab yet."
Oh yes, Alison's eyes were narrowing at this. And it was not the glint of happiness in her eyes, for that matter. "Oh. Training, huh. That's what they've been calling it?" And wonderful. Trying to corner Haroun on this would be an exercise in futility. She wasn't all that sure about Nathan either. But she had better odds there. Possibly. Gah, men.
"I'm going to have to start refereeing, I suspect," Scott said almost cheerfully. Look how he'd stumbled on an even better way to get back at Haroun. Wasn't it funny how things worked out. And Nathan... well, if Nathan could weather Moira's temper he could certainly handle Alison's. "I mean, after the whole setting-Haroun-on-fire thing..."
"Scott? You're doing that on purpose aren't you?" she asked him sweetly, holding both her hands carefully behind her back to not take a swipe at him. She'd known about the setting on fire part. Though come to think of it, Haroun seemed to have a disturbing tendency to not deal too well with the elements. First on fire, then attempting to drown himself...
"Me? Humorless old Captain Fuckwad? Surely you jest."
The swipe left on it's own really, Alison swatting him on the shoulder. "Oooh!"
"Now you're beating on me," Scott said with a certain amount of mirth. "It's all downhill from here."
"Maybe I'll just tickle you to death, how about that?" she retorted, feeling rather victorious about this whole conversation for some reason.
"Oh, but then I could tell Betsy that you can't keep your hands off me," Scott pointed out with a perfectly straight face. "And that could be ugly."
She gaped at him for a moment, laughter catching up with her a moment later. "Scott!" And that was worthy of taking up the challenge as far as she was concerned, which she didn't waste any time doing, grinning wickedly.
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no subject
Date: 2004-10-01 10:05 pm (UTC)Well, at least he's equipped for that kind of sex life . . .
It's like some bizarre love pentagon. Sam/Ali/Haroun/Haroun's Cybernetic Legs/the Blackbird.
And now I'm going to hell. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-10-02 11:18 am (UTC):: snickers more ::
No worse than...
Date: 2004-10-03 03:01 pm (UTC)Just less artificial bits.
In silliness,
Haroun