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xp_logs2004-11-24 10:29 pm
x-jetstream.livejournal.com) wrote in xp_logs2004-11-24 10:29 pm
Haroun and Alison - After the Knicks Game
Haroun ninjas his way back to his room, only to discover that he has a visitor. Who is none too pleased about his chosen amusements.
Haroun, holding a bit of ripped shirt to his head, walked quickly and quietly to his room. He didn't want to run into anybody, he didn't want to talk to anybody, he just wanted to get back to his room, where he and a mirror and a pair of tweezers would get any glass fragments out of his head. Then a bandage, then sleep. He had class tomorrow - if the cut was still bad, he could always wear a headscarf or something. He'd done it before. He made his way to his room undetected, and then turned the doorknob to his room.
Alison, who was curled up on his bed, the small sound dampening unit on her wrist fully powered and turned on, focused on the door at the motion, the sound of the lock clicking open confirming that Haroun was back. He had a very uncomfortable bed compared to the one she now had, and something Had To Be Done about his. Of course, any thought about teasing him on the matter faded away as she got a good look at him.
Haroun got the door open and closed behind him before he realized that Something Was Not Right. He swore in Arabic and looked at Alison. "What are you doing here?" he asked her in surprise. "I thought you had to stay in the medlab at night!"
Her eyes narrowed just a touch at that, Alison clearly less than pleased with his reaction. Although considering the state he was in, she had a fairly good idea why he was less than enthused with her presence. "Hank cleared me on walking around the mansion at night in exchange for me being a very good girl. Less people about, all quieter. And I wanted to surprise you with it." She paused. "Surprise." And winced a bit as she leaned forward, looking him over thoroughly. "You got in a fight."
"Consider me very surprised. Under any other circumstance, I'd be thrilled. Right now, I need a mirror, a basin of water, and a pair of tweezers. And a clean cloth. So if you will excuse me..." he said while he retrieved his medkit and opened it to get the materials he needed. "And yes, I did. It was great! This is just a scratch, really. Somebody really needs to work out their sexual identity issues in a more peaceful manner." he said with a chuckle. "And I have to learn how to duck."
Eyeing one of the very few decorative items in the room, Alison wistfully pondered helping him train on that score now. But no. Not enough here to actually throw at him and she'd probably have a lousy aim right now, what with the synthsilk suit and the hurting and all. "You should come with a warning tag. 'Gets in a bar brawl every week' or something." Rolling her eyes, Alison slowly slid off the bed, rising to her feet. "I'll help you with that." She had plans for the permanent marker on his desk too. The medkit had just earned itself a name.
"Not necessary. Lay back down, rest. I can take care of myself." he said, somewhat more curtly than he'd intended. "This works better with warm water." he said out loud as he stepped into his bathroom to fill a basin with water. "So how was your evening?" he called out to her as the basin filled. "Feeling any better?"
"Fine!" She grinned just a bit. Someone was being very grumpy about getting caught. Carefully, Alison removed the smile from her face before he walked out of the bathroom - no matter how cute he was when grumpy, he'd still got into a brawl. "It's easier to compare from week to week than day to day. Doing nothing today helped some." Though she was loathe to admit it. "I feel better, a bit. Being able to walk around the mansion at night should be fun. Even if my boyfriend has to get in a bar brawl every week or so." There was a definite possessive note to the word boyfriend - and a less than impressed one at the words 'bar brawl'.
"He does." he told her with a grin. "I was just blowing off some steam. And Nathan needed to get out so bad he could taste it. Knicks beat the Wizards, if you're curious." he added. "Wasn't even close. Pretty lousy game, actually."
"I'm a Yanks fan," she muttered, wandering a bit closer to inspect the head wound - she was already up anyway. "Doofus Oh well, nothing critical hit there," she groused, although her lips were twitching enough to give her away. Either he'd do fine mending himself up at which point she was writing things on the medkit while he took care of himself, or he'd need help and she'd be close by if needed. Either way, she could poke at him over getting in a brawl. Again. "Wait. Did you get Nathan involved in the brawl too?"
"That, my dearest heart, was the idea." he grinned, then he sat himself in front of the mirror. He removed the bandage, then took up the tweezers and began pulling beer-bottle shards out of his flesh. He didn't wince, didn't even make a noise. "He needed it. To get out, to feel something other than worry or pain."
Gah. Moira was scary. Alison wasn't sure she wanted to get between the Scottish Virago and Haroun. He'd called her 'dearest heart' though. She liked that. "The things I do for you," she mumbled, wincing a bit and wondering if maybe emailing Moira soon might not be a bad idea after all. "You'll need steri-strips on those." She was willing to bet anything he had some in the medkit too. If he was going to be stupid about this like he'd been about his arm way back when, she was ratting him out to the entire medlab staff. "Do I want to know what happened?"
"We were playing pool. Some little two-bit piece of work starting making the googly eyes at Nathan. Her boyfriend took exception. Things were getting quite joyously hectic when I caught a bottle upside the head. Stupid of me, really." he said. "But the brawl was really quite invigorating." he added with a disturbing grin. "And if you're not going to take my advice, you might as well make yourself useful. Alcohol in my kit - it should sterilize the cuts. Sterile bandages also should be in there. If you'd be so kind?"
And someone had already beat her into the whole breaking something on his head bit. Which clearly hadn't done much to knock sense into him - really hadn't hit anything essential there, she thought wryly. "There are other ways to relax than to get in a braaaawl," she pointed out, not really liking what she was seeing as she inspected the head wound before heading for the medkit. Bitching someone out about being in a brawl when they might die the next day in something on a decidedly larger scale was proving to be a challenge, though. She came back to stand by him, bottle of alcohol and cotton swab in hand, and sighed a little.
"Thanks. It's nothing, really." he said, taking the swab, soaking it in the alcohol, and doing a quick but serviceable job of disinfecting the wounds. "And we went to a basketball game first!" he pointed out. "Seriously - I know there are other ways to relax. I've tried most of them. But there's just something about it - the thrill of the fight - nothing like it in the world. Never feel quite so alive - well, OK, there's ONE other way to feel alive like that, but that's out of the question for now." he said with a leer.
"You'd better rephrase that to feeling more alive, thank you very much," she specified in a rather tart way. Alison hadn't been horribly surprised at him being in a brawl, really - she'd have taken this far worse if so. Hrm - and look at that, those teams he'd mentioned were basketball, not baseball. Oops. "It'd just be," she carefully edited 'dirt stupid' to something else, "unnecessary to end up being hurt badly in something like a bar brawl considering everything else we do, you know? Want me to steri-strip that one before putting a bandage over it all?"
Haroun waved off Alison's objection. "Yankees are baseball, Alison." he pointed out innocently. "And yes, if you feel the need, go ahead and put the strips on before the bandage." He held his head still so she could get to it easily. "I never really cared for baseball. I always liked the energy of basketball. If I'm going to watch American sports, basketball is it. I take it you're not much into sport?"
"Depends on who I'm watching whatever sport with, mostly." She grinned a bit as she admitted to that, neatly placing the steri-strips on one side of the cut - the other would do fine without it, she decided. "Hockey can be fun, but mostly only if you watch it in person - it's boring on TV. Football movies I've always liked. Have yet to see a game though." She grinned slowly. "And I am a Yanks fan." It was the only baseball team she followed, though. "It's a city thing." Brawling, however, was not a sport.
Haroun started to nod, then stopped himself. "Suppose you're right. Didn't I hear something about a hockey lockout? Stupid, if you ask me. Football - ah, too American. I like rugby quite well, though." He grinned. "Very physical sport, that. I'll watch boxing, UFC, Pride, you name it. Need to go see them the next time they roll through New York."
It took a moment for Alison to sort out the acronym, but she'd heard it before. "I'll skip the UFC and boxing in general, thank you." She patted his shoulder lightly, eyeing the patch-up work critically. "Mmm. There." And then stopped patting his shoulder, her hand reminding her that it wasn't enjoying any of the contact all that much. Fiiine. Ow. "I liked Bend it like Beckham," she offered, innocently enough.
"You would. Bloody Beckham." he groused. "I'm a casual fan at best of football, and I know I can't stand the guy." He inspected Alison's handiwork and then nodded. "Good bandage." he told her with a grin. "Now then, young lady - were you waiting up for little old me?"
Not that Beckham actually showed up in the movie. Other than that nice poster. "Mmmm." It was a rather cheerful sounding purr of assent. Followed by an unmistakable pout as she eyed the bandage. "Wasn't planning on testing how much better I felt by patching you up though, I'll have you know." Alison didn't move away in the least however, trying to keep herself from smiling while gazing down at him.
"Feeling better, eh?" he said with a grin. "Well, what precisely did you have in mind?"
"Field testing." She nodded solemnly at that, glancing briefly at her handiwork. Doing that the previous week would have been far more painful that it had been just now. "But you're all hurt now. " It was getting increasingly hard not to snicker at her own silliness, Alison had to admit.
"I'm not dead!" he protested. "I can handle anything you think you can dish out." he said with a cocky grin. "So go ahead. Do your worst. I can handle it. This little scratch won't even slow me down." The protesting ribs and general soreness might, not to mention his growing desperate need to take a shower.
She leaned down just a bit, until she was able to whisper in his ear. "But... you reek." Normally, this would have been a very good moment to make a run for it, but Alison wasn't quite up to that yet. So instead she straightened up again, smiling just a bit. "I think I like the smell of sulfur better than the smell of bad beer, too."
Haroun couldn't help it. He laughed. Long and loud. "I do." he admitted. "Shower's right over there. You up to joining me, young lady, or are you still on sponge-baths?" He unabashedly shed his shirt as he wandered over to his bathroom, and then unbuttoned the top button on his jeans before looking at her. "I'll wash your back for you."
"Can't handle showers yet," she admitted, somewhat reluctantly. The offer amused her greatly though, which she didn't bother hiding in the least. "I think maybe we should keep that one for when I'm better, mmm? I'm not into voluntary torture." Which it would be, considering she still had very definite limits. "Besides. Pfhew! The stench! Go!" she laughed, waving a hand at him in a warding motion.
"It's a date." he said with a grin, then decided that she could use a little eye-candy. He shucked the jeans entirely, keeping his back to her, and then opened the door to the bathroom and stepped inside. Soon afterwards the sound of the shower running could be heard even through the closed door.
She laughed at that, whistling lowly in appreciation before heading back to the bed to curl up on the pillows she'd brought over with her. That was a habit of his she didn't mind in the least - it would be fun to return the favor to him at one point, if only to see the look on his face. Settling down to wait for him, she made a face at the grimy clothes he'd left behind - too bad vaporizing them was out of the question.
Haroun reappeared from the bathroom in just a few minutes - wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. "Should I bother to put anything on, or do you just want me as-is?" he said with a grin, then headed over to his dresser to pull out a few things - underwear, a clean pair of jeans, and a simple button-down.
Alison revised the entire concept of torture on the spot, groaning just a touch. He looked far too pleased with himself while asking her that, too. "What I want and what I can have are two very different things," she whimpered piteously, raising her hands to glare at the synthsilk covering them. And then grinned crookedly at him, hands falling down to rest in her lap. "Whatever works for you?" So much for not torturing herself, she decided.
Haroun grinned. "I wouldn't want to be underdressed, considering..." he said, waving a hand at her synthsilks. "So unfortunately I think I'll have to wear at least a little something." He then turned around so that he had his back to her, then dropped the towel to put the underwear (very flattering) and the jeans on. The shirt he shrugged into, but left it entirely unbuttoned. "There we go." he said as he turned around.
With a low chuckle, Alison patted the spot on the bed next to her. He was a horrible tease and she was loving every moment of it. Button-down shirts were also going up very high on her list of 'things to get for Christmas' as well as on the list of 'things to steal from Haroun's closet' at that. "You are much too far away, you know that?"
"Can't have that." he said with a grin, slowly strutting his way over to the indicated spot next to her. "Your space heater is at your command, milady." he said with a subservient bend of his head before he gently sat down next to her.
It was a slow process, really - finding out what was tolerable and what wasn't, every single time they did this. Still, she reached out to tug him closer, laughing quietly as the gesture cause the shirt to open further. "I'm the space heater these days," she murmured, although the light had dimmed a fair bit compared to the first day she'd been out of the medlab. Thankfully. "Mmm. Closer."
"If you're the space heater, then what am I?" he asked her as he snuggled up closer to her, not coincidentally getting a fantastic look at her synthsilk-covered curves in the process. Just for fun, he teased a finger along the top of her thigh.
"Mmm," she shivered under the touch - not without pain, but the synthsilk was absorbing a great deal of the contact, at least. "You can be my most comfortable pillow?" Alison smiled winsomely at him, shifting just a bit before slowly leaning against him fully, waiting for her nerves to stop protesting the pressure.
"I can do that." he said. "And gladly." He shifted just a touch, to make things more comfortable for him, and then closed his eyes for a second to just revel in the feel of her leaning against him. His mind insisted on spinning the most demented fantasies at times like this - usually involving the two of them together in ways that were fantastically earth shattering for her but did absolute nothing for him - in reality. Inside his mind, though, he felt everything.
Alison slowly relaxed against him - at least as relaxed as she could manage these days - bringing one hand up to rest it on his bare skin lightly. After a moment of silence, she spoke up softly. "Hank says I'll have to start therapy soon. Muscles are wound up too tight from the constant pain and that'll need to be fixed before I can start training again."
"Okay." Haroun said. "Want me to help with that?" he asked her, totally serious. "More helpers you get means that your recovery time should go down."
"Yes, I do. He only mentioned it in passing but he figured you'd be good to help. Madelyn will probably be telling you more on it whenever they think is the right time. Apparently they're looking stuff up, therapy wise." She moved again slowly, very deliberately coming into that much more contact with him. And paused with a small frown, waiting for the ache to subside a bit before starting the whole process of relaxing against him all over again.
Haroun let her adjust at her own speed - there was nothing he could do to speed the process, he'd learned. "No problem. I would be honored to aid in any way I can. Maybe we could hit the pool? I need to work cardio, as much as I hate it. Man cannot exist on strength and flexibility training alone."
She nodded slowly at that - though the jogging was usually all the cardio she needed, that wasn't going to be an option for a while yet. "When I'm up to starting some kind of training again, that'd be a good start." Alison paused, then grinned up at him innocently. "I'm going to need flexibility training too. Muscles too tight from the continuous strain. Means I'll need to work on that."
"And we can't have you getting all stiff on us." he said with a straight face, then dissolved into a rough chuckle. "So yeah, I think I can help bend you in interesting ways until you start to be able to accommodate me." he grinned.
She couldn't help it - hiding her face against him hurt but laughing made her feel good in spite of everything else and as unsubtle as the turn of phrase had been, she was amused. Besides, she'd started it first. "Silly." Alison moved just enough to look up at him, eyes dancing in amusement - her features were drawn just a touch, the only visible sign that she was in pain at the moment.
Haroun was still learning Alison's expressions - the ins and outs of how to read her based on her facial expressions. Pain, however, was an old friend and something he could recognize easily. "You're hurting. Just relax." he told her softly. "We have time."
Her expression wavered and she rested her cheek against his shoulder again, uncaring of the resulting ache, refusing to pull the hood of the synthsilk suit on to make it that much easier on herself. "I hate this." The whisper was low, a touch ragged. "They don't know how long it'll take and it's neural damage, it might stay and everything always hu-" She stopped, closing her eyes tightly for a moment, keeping very still.
"It's a good thing you have Doctor McCoy available as well as Doctor MacTaggart. Specialists in mutation and biochemistry. If anyone can reverse the damage, it's them. I've heard rumors, wild tales about mutants who can heal the sick, repair any wound with a touch. And if science fails, there is another option." he said quietly. "Did you read the case files from Iceland?"
"Hank, Moira, Madelyn... and the others who helped too. They've all been amazing." She'd tensed up - again - and Alison tried not to sigh as she worked on relaxing again. Somewhat. She'd heard the rumors as well, only they were still just that. Rumors. "I was in Iceland," she replied - and then her eyes widened. "Madelyn. Oh..." She remembered only too well the flight back home, after Madelyn and Moira had lost their newfound abilities. "I can't believe I forgot about that. It must be hell for her, with everything that's been going on..."
"So you know what's possible via mysticism. Heal any wound, correct any fault. If science fails, I will personally crawl on my belly to this Loki person and beg for that power. Even if only for a day. And if I can get it, I will use it on you to bring you back to being yourself." Haroun said softly. "The price is high, but hell, I'm not a very imaginative person anyway."
There were times when the world twisted at odd angles on you and this was one of them, Alison pushing herself up far too quickly to look at Haroun. "No. No, you stay away from Loki, you never try to-" she shivered, shaking her head vehemently. "He lies with every breath he takes, it's all he does. He's the Trickster. Any deal made with him will only see everyone lose. Except for him." Pressing her fingertips to the side of his face lightly, she tried to smile reassuringly. "I'll be fine. It'll take time but I'll be fine and we don't need to go there."
Haroun nodded and placed his forefinger against her lips gently. "Shhh. OK. It's a last-ditch option when everything else has failed anyway. It's not going to come to that because you are going to get better. You hear me? You've already made improvements."
Her lips trembled for a moment at the contact, breath quickly indrawn while she gazed at him searchingly. "I have." She smiled slightly the instant afterward though, nodding just a bit, lips not so coincidentally brushing against his fingertip in an equally gentle caress before she pulled back, considering how to resume the previously almost comfortable position she'd finally found.
"You're a singer, I don't think you'd like the pretty charts if I drew them for you in bright primary colors." he joked. "But even in the week or so that you've been down you've made substantial improvement. Will you go back to 100%? I can't say. That's Moira and Hank and Madelyn's job - to make sure that you go back to as close to 100% as you can get. My job is to be the shoulder for you to lean on, someone to talk to, to pick you up if you fall."
Alison murmured softly in wordless assent - they still considered her a team leader at that, even if she wasn't able to do anything. Her shoulders slumped a bit at the thought, the irony of her reaction not escaping her in the least. She'd been ambivalent about being an X-Man for so long, the entire notion of being a team leader scaring her silly and now that she was kept from doing that, the fact that she was essentially unable to do much of anything was eating away at her non-stop. "I am," she lifted a hand, cradling his cheek for a moment, "very glad you're there for me. Thank you." Sighing softly she rested her forehead against his shoulder - leaning in every sense of the word.
Haroun leaned into her motion, to provide her with a little bit more support. "You're welcome." he told her, and then just sat back to enjoy the sensation.
Haroun, holding a bit of ripped shirt to his head, walked quickly and quietly to his room. He didn't want to run into anybody, he didn't want to talk to anybody, he just wanted to get back to his room, where he and a mirror and a pair of tweezers would get any glass fragments out of his head. Then a bandage, then sleep. He had class tomorrow - if the cut was still bad, he could always wear a headscarf or something. He'd done it before. He made his way to his room undetected, and then turned the doorknob to his room.
Alison, who was curled up on his bed, the small sound dampening unit on her wrist fully powered and turned on, focused on the door at the motion, the sound of the lock clicking open confirming that Haroun was back. He had a very uncomfortable bed compared to the one she now had, and something Had To Be Done about his. Of course, any thought about teasing him on the matter faded away as she got a good look at him.
Haroun got the door open and closed behind him before he realized that Something Was Not Right. He swore in Arabic and looked at Alison. "What are you doing here?" he asked her in surprise. "I thought you had to stay in the medlab at night!"
Her eyes narrowed just a touch at that, Alison clearly less than pleased with his reaction. Although considering the state he was in, she had a fairly good idea why he was less than enthused with her presence. "Hank cleared me on walking around the mansion at night in exchange for me being a very good girl. Less people about, all quieter. And I wanted to surprise you with it." She paused. "Surprise." And winced a bit as she leaned forward, looking him over thoroughly. "You got in a fight."
"Consider me very surprised. Under any other circumstance, I'd be thrilled. Right now, I need a mirror, a basin of water, and a pair of tweezers. And a clean cloth. So if you will excuse me..." he said while he retrieved his medkit and opened it to get the materials he needed. "And yes, I did. It was great! This is just a scratch, really. Somebody really needs to work out their sexual identity issues in a more peaceful manner." he said with a chuckle. "And I have to learn how to duck."
Eyeing one of the very few decorative items in the room, Alison wistfully pondered helping him train on that score now. But no. Not enough here to actually throw at him and she'd probably have a lousy aim right now, what with the synthsilk suit and the hurting and all. "You should come with a warning tag. 'Gets in a bar brawl every week' or something." Rolling her eyes, Alison slowly slid off the bed, rising to her feet. "I'll help you with that." She had plans for the permanent marker on his desk too. The medkit had just earned itself a name.
"Not necessary. Lay back down, rest. I can take care of myself." he said, somewhat more curtly than he'd intended. "This works better with warm water." he said out loud as he stepped into his bathroom to fill a basin with water. "So how was your evening?" he called out to her as the basin filled. "Feeling any better?"
"Fine!" She grinned just a bit. Someone was being very grumpy about getting caught. Carefully, Alison removed the smile from her face before he walked out of the bathroom - no matter how cute he was when grumpy, he'd still got into a brawl. "It's easier to compare from week to week than day to day. Doing nothing today helped some." Though she was loathe to admit it. "I feel better, a bit. Being able to walk around the mansion at night should be fun. Even if my boyfriend has to get in a bar brawl every week or so." There was a definite possessive note to the word boyfriend - and a less than impressed one at the words 'bar brawl'.
"He does." he told her with a grin. "I was just blowing off some steam. And Nathan needed to get out so bad he could taste it. Knicks beat the Wizards, if you're curious." he added. "Wasn't even close. Pretty lousy game, actually."
"I'm a Yanks fan," she muttered, wandering a bit closer to inspect the head wound - she was already up anyway. "Doofus Oh well, nothing critical hit there," she groused, although her lips were twitching enough to give her away. Either he'd do fine mending himself up at which point she was writing things on the medkit while he took care of himself, or he'd need help and she'd be close by if needed. Either way, she could poke at him over getting in a brawl. Again. "Wait. Did you get Nathan involved in the brawl too?"
"That, my dearest heart, was the idea." he grinned, then he sat himself in front of the mirror. He removed the bandage, then took up the tweezers and began pulling beer-bottle shards out of his flesh. He didn't wince, didn't even make a noise. "He needed it. To get out, to feel something other than worry or pain."
Gah. Moira was scary. Alison wasn't sure she wanted to get between the Scottish Virago and Haroun. He'd called her 'dearest heart' though. She liked that. "The things I do for you," she mumbled, wincing a bit and wondering if maybe emailing Moira soon might not be a bad idea after all. "You'll need steri-strips on those." She was willing to bet anything he had some in the medkit too. If he was going to be stupid about this like he'd been about his arm way back when, she was ratting him out to the entire medlab staff. "Do I want to know what happened?"
"We were playing pool. Some little two-bit piece of work starting making the googly eyes at Nathan. Her boyfriend took exception. Things were getting quite joyously hectic when I caught a bottle upside the head. Stupid of me, really." he said. "But the brawl was really quite invigorating." he added with a disturbing grin. "And if you're not going to take my advice, you might as well make yourself useful. Alcohol in my kit - it should sterilize the cuts. Sterile bandages also should be in there. If you'd be so kind?"
And someone had already beat her into the whole breaking something on his head bit. Which clearly hadn't done much to knock sense into him - really hadn't hit anything essential there, she thought wryly. "There are other ways to relax than to get in a braaaawl," she pointed out, not really liking what she was seeing as she inspected the head wound before heading for the medkit. Bitching someone out about being in a brawl when they might die the next day in something on a decidedly larger scale was proving to be a challenge, though. She came back to stand by him, bottle of alcohol and cotton swab in hand, and sighed a little.
"Thanks. It's nothing, really." he said, taking the swab, soaking it in the alcohol, and doing a quick but serviceable job of disinfecting the wounds. "And we went to a basketball game first!" he pointed out. "Seriously - I know there are other ways to relax. I've tried most of them. But there's just something about it - the thrill of the fight - nothing like it in the world. Never feel quite so alive - well, OK, there's ONE other way to feel alive like that, but that's out of the question for now." he said with a leer.
"You'd better rephrase that to feeling more alive, thank you very much," she specified in a rather tart way. Alison hadn't been horribly surprised at him being in a brawl, really - she'd have taken this far worse if so. Hrm - and look at that, those teams he'd mentioned were basketball, not baseball. Oops. "It'd just be," she carefully edited 'dirt stupid' to something else, "unnecessary to end up being hurt badly in something like a bar brawl considering everything else we do, you know? Want me to steri-strip that one before putting a bandage over it all?"
Haroun waved off Alison's objection. "Yankees are baseball, Alison." he pointed out innocently. "And yes, if you feel the need, go ahead and put the strips on before the bandage." He held his head still so she could get to it easily. "I never really cared for baseball. I always liked the energy of basketball. If I'm going to watch American sports, basketball is it. I take it you're not much into sport?"
"Depends on who I'm watching whatever sport with, mostly." She grinned a bit as she admitted to that, neatly placing the steri-strips on one side of the cut - the other would do fine without it, she decided. "Hockey can be fun, but mostly only if you watch it in person - it's boring on TV. Football movies I've always liked. Have yet to see a game though." She grinned slowly. "And I am a Yanks fan." It was the only baseball team she followed, though. "It's a city thing." Brawling, however, was not a sport.
Haroun started to nod, then stopped himself. "Suppose you're right. Didn't I hear something about a hockey lockout? Stupid, if you ask me. Football - ah, too American. I like rugby quite well, though." He grinned. "Very physical sport, that. I'll watch boxing, UFC, Pride, you name it. Need to go see them the next time they roll through New York."
It took a moment for Alison to sort out the acronym, but she'd heard it before. "I'll skip the UFC and boxing in general, thank you." She patted his shoulder lightly, eyeing the patch-up work critically. "Mmm. There." And then stopped patting his shoulder, her hand reminding her that it wasn't enjoying any of the contact all that much. Fiiine. Ow. "I liked Bend it like Beckham," she offered, innocently enough.
"You would. Bloody Beckham." he groused. "I'm a casual fan at best of football, and I know I can't stand the guy." He inspected Alison's handiwork and then nodded. "Good bandage." he told her with a grin. "Now then, young lady - were you waiting up for little old me?"
Not that Beckham actually showed up in the movie. Other than that nice poster. "Mmmm." It was a rather cheerful sounding purr of assent. Followed by an unmistakable pout as she eyed the bandage. "Wasn't planning on testing how much better I felt by patching you up though, I'll have you know." Alison didn't move away in the least however, trying to keep herself from smiling while gazing down at him.
"Feeling better, eh?" he said with a grin. "Well, what precisely did you have in mind?"
"Field testing." She nodded solemnly at that, glancing briefly at her handiwork. Doing that the previous week would have been far more painful that it had been just now. "But you're all hurt now. " It was getting increasingly hard not to snicker at her own silliness, Alison had to admit.
"I'm not dead!" he protested. "I can handle anything you think you can dish out." he said with a cocky grin. "So go ahead. Do your worst. I can handle it. This little scratch won't even slow me down." The protesting ribs and general soreness might, not to mention his growing desperate need to take a shower.
She leaned down just a bit, until she was able to whisper in his ear. "But... you reek." Normally, this would have been a very good moment to make a run for it, but Alison wasn't quite up to that yet. So instead she straightened up again, smiling just a bit. "I think I like the smell of sulfur better than the smell of bad beer, too."
Haroun couldn't help it. He laughed. Long and loud. "I do." he admitted. "Shower's right over there. You up to joining me, young lady, or are you still on sponge-baths?" He unabashedly shed his shirt as he wandered over to his bathroom, and then unbuttoned the top button on his jeans before looking at her. "I'll wash your back for you."
"Can't handle showers yet," she admitted, somewhat reluctantly. The offer amused her greatly though, which she didn't bother hiding in the least. "I think maybe we should keep that one for when I'm better, mmm? I'm not into voluntary torture." Which it would be, considering she still had very definite limits. "Besides. Pfhew! The stench! Go!" she laughed, waving a hand at him in a warding motion.
"It's a date." he said with a grin, then decided that she could use a little eye-candy. He shucked the jeans entirely, keeping his back to her, and then opened the door to the bathroom and stepped inside. Soon afterwards the sound of the shower running could be heard even through the closed door.
She laughed at that, whistling lowly in appreciation before heading back to the bed to curl up on the pillows she'd brought over with her. That was a habit of his she didn't mind in the least - it would be fun to return the favor to him at one point, if only to see the look on his face. Settling down to wait for him, she made a face at the grimy clothes he'd left behind - too bad vaporizing them was out of the question.
Haroun reappeared from the bathroom in just a few minutes - wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. "Should I bother to put anything on, or do you just want me as-is?" he said with a grin, then headed over to his dresser to pull out a few things - underwear, a clean pair of jeans, and a simple button-down.
Alison revised the entire concept of torture on the spot, groaning just a touch. He looked far too pleased with himself while asking her that, too. "What I want and what I can have are two very different things," she whimpered piteously, raising her hands to glare at the synthsilk covering them. And then grinned crookedly at him, hands falling down to rest in her lap. "Whatever works for you?" So much for not torturing herself, she decided.
Haroun grinned. "I wouldn't want to be underdressed, considering..." he said, waving a hand at her synthsilks. "So unfortunately I think I'll have to wear at least a little something." He then turned around so that he had his back to her, then dropped the towel to put the underwear (very flattering) and the jeans on. The shirt he shrugged into, but left it entirely unbuttoned. "There we go." he said as he turned around.
With a low chuckle, Alison patted the spot on the bed next to her. He was a horrible tease and she was loving every moment of it. Button-down shirts were also going up very high on her list of 'things to get for Christmas' as well as on the list of 'things to steal from Haroun's closet' at that. "You are much too far away, you know that?"
"Can't have that." he said with a grin, slowly strutting his way over to the indicated spot next to her. "Your space heater is at your command, milady." he said with a subservient bend of his head before he gently sat down next to her.
It was a slow process, really - finding out what was tolerable and what wasn't, every single time they did this. Still, she reached out to tug him closer, laughing quietly as the gesture cause the shirt to open further. "I'm the space heater these days," she murmured, although the light had dimmed a fair bit compared to the first day she'd been out of the medlab. Thankfully. "Mmm. Closer."
"If you're the space heater, then what am I?" he asked her as he snuggled up closer to her, not coincidentally getting a fantastic look at her synthsilk-covered curves in the process. Just for fun, he teased a finger along the top of her thigh.
"Mmm," she shivered under the touch - not without pain, but the synthsilk was absorbing a great deal of the contact, at least. "You can be my most comfortable pillow?" Alison smiled winsomely at him, shifting just a bit before slowly leaning against him fully, waiting for her nerves to stop protesting the pressure.
"I can do that." he said. "And gladly." He shifted just a touch, to make things more comfortable for him, and then closed his eyes for a second to just revel in the feel of her leaning against him. His mind insisted on spinning the most demented fantasies at times like this - usually involving the two of them together in ways that were fantastically earth shattering for her but did absolute nothing for him - in reality. Inside his mind, though, he felt everything.
Alison slowly relaxed against him - at least as relaxed as she could manage these days - bringing one hand up to rest it on his bare skin lightly. After a moment of silence, she spoke up softly. "Hank says I'll have to start therapy soon. Muscles are wound up too tight from the constant pain and that'll need to be fixed before I can start training again."
"Okay." Haroun said. "Want me to help with that?" he asked her, totally serious. "More helpers you get means that your recovery time should go down."
"Yes, I do. He only mentioned it in passing but he figured you'd be good to help. Madelyn will probably be telling you more on it whenever they think is the right time. Apparently they're looking stuff up, therapy wise." She moved again slowly, very deliberately coming into that much more contact with him. And paused with a small frown, waiting for the ache to subside a bit before starting the whole process of relaxing against him all over again.
Haroun let her adjust at her own speed - there was nothing he could do to speed the process, he'd learned. "No problem. I would be honored to aid in any way I can. Maybe we could hit the pool? I need to work cardio, as much as I hate it. Man cannot exist on strength and flexibility training alone."
She nodded slowly at that - though the jogging was usually all the cardio she needed, that wasn't going to be an option for a while yet. "When I'm up to starting some kind of training again, that'd be a good start." Alison paused, then grinned up at him innocently. "I'm going to need flexibility training too. Muscles too tight from the continuous strain. Means I'll need to work on that."
"And we can't have you getting all stiff on us." he said with a straight face, then dissolved into a rough chuckle. "So yeah, I think I can help bend you in interesting ways until you start to be able to accommodate me." he grinned.
She couldn't help it - hiding her face against him hurt but laughing made her feel good in spite of everything else and as unsubtle as the turn of phrase had been, she was amused. Besides, she'd started it first. "Silly." Alison moved just enough to look up at him, eyes dancing in amusement - her features were drawn just a touch, the only visible sign that she was in pain at the moment.
Haroun was still learning Alison's expressions - the ins and outs of how to read her based on her facial expressions. Pain, however, was an old friend and something he could recognize easily. "You're hurting. Just relax." he told her softly. "We have time."
Her expression wavered and she rested her cheek against his shoulder again, uncaring of the resulting ache, refusing to pull the hood of the synthsilk suit on to make it that much easier on herself. "I hate this." The whisper was low, a touch ragged. "They don't know how long it'll take and it's neural damage, it might stay and everything always hu-" She stopped, closing her eyes tightly for a moment, keeping very still.
"It's a good thing you have Doctor McCoy available as well as Doctor MacTaggart. Specialists in mutation and biochemistry. If anyone can reverse the damage, it's them. I've heard rumors, wild tales about mutants who can heal the sick, repair any wound with a touch. And if science fails, there is another option." he said quietly. "Did you read the case files from Iceland?"
"Hank, Moira, Madelyn... and the others who helped too. They've all been amazing." She'd tensed up - again - and Alison tried not to sigh as she worked on relaxing again. Somewhat. She'd heard the rumors as well, only they were still just that. Rumors. "I was in Iceland," she replied - and then her eyes widened. "Madelyn. Oh..." She remembered only too well the flight back home, after Madelyn and Moira had lost their newfound abilities. "I can't believe I forgot about that. It must be hell for her, with everything that's been going on..."
"So you know what's possible via mysticism. Heal any wound, correct any fault. If science fails, I will personally crawl on my belly to this Loki person and beg for that power. Even if only for a day. And if I can get it, I will use it on you to bring you back to being yourself." Haroun said softly. "The price is high, but hell, I'm not a very imaginative person anyway."
There were times when the world twisted at odd angles on you and this was one of them, Alison pushing herself up far too quickly to look at Haroun. "No. No, you stay away from Loki, you never try to-" she shivered, shaking her head vehemently. "He lies with every breath he takes, it's all he does. He's the Trickster. Any deal made with him will only see everyone lose. Except for him." Pressing her fingertips to the side of his face lightly, she tried to smile reassuringly. "I'll be fine. It'll take time but I'll be fine and we don't need to go there."
Haroun nodded and placed his forefinger against her lips gently. "Shhh. OK. It's a last-ditch option when everything else has failed anyway. It's not going to come to that because you are going to get better. You hear me? You've already made improvements."
Her lips trembled for a moment at the contact, breath quickly indrawn while she gazed at him searchingly. "I have." She smiled slightly the instant afterward though, nodding just a bit, lips not so coincidentally brushing against his fingertip in an equally gentle caress before she pulled back, considering how to resume the previously almost comfortable position she'd finally found.
"You're a singer, I don't think you'd like the pretty charts if I drew them for you in bright primary colors." he joked. "But even in the week or so that you've been down you've made substantial improvement. Will you go back to 100%? I can't say. That's Moira and Hank and Madelyn's job - to make sure that you go back to as close to 100% as you can get. My job is to be the shoulder for you to lean on, someone to talk to, to pick you up if you fall."
Alison murmured softly in wordless assent - they still considered her a team leader at that, even if she wasn't able to do anything. Her shoulders slumped a bit at the thought, the irony of her reaction not escaping her in the least. She'd been ambivalent about being an X-Man for so long, the entire notion of being a team leader scaring her silly and now that she was kept from doing that, the fact that she was essentially unable to do much of anything was eating away at her non-stop. "I am," she lifted a hand, cradling his cheek for a moment, "very glad you're there for me. Thank you." Sighing softly she rested her forehead against his shoulder - leaning in every sense of the word.
Haroun leaned into her motion, to provide her with a little bit more support. "You're welcome." he told her, and then just sat back to enjoy the sensation.
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