LOG: Scott and Betsy
Mar. 13th, 2005 03:48 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsPlayers: Scott and Betsy
Time: Sunday afternoon
Subject: Goodbye
In these matters the only certainty is that nothing is certain.
--Pliny the Elder
She stood in front of his doorway, pressing her hand against the dark wood, and then letting it fall away. His voice was a steady reassurance in her head and even in his current state, it was too easy to fall into old habits. Betsy put a harsh clamp on her urge to listen in and knocked lightly on his door instead.
~It's me.~"
Scott, who'd been lying on the couch in the living room, staring up at the safe blankness of the ceiling, sat up, running an unsteady hand through his disheveled hair. "Come in," he called back hoarsely, aloud.
Betsy steeled herself against what could happen next. With one hasty look down both ends of the corridor, she entered his room and closed the door fimly behind her. The sight that she'd been avoiding for the past twenty-four hours was sitting on the couch in all its' unkempt glory. Whatever she was about to say stayed painfully lodged in her throat.
Scott swallowed, fighting for some semblance of composure as he looked up at her. He tried to think of what to say, but the conversation with Charles, though it had eased things on a number of levels, had sapped all his strength. Stolen all his words.
Turning away from him for a moment, her eyes soaked up the state of the room. Everything was in its' place and she wanted to remember it like this, always. Her eyes made their way around the room, until she locked eyes with him again and gave him a small smile. Betsy moved toward him now, taking her seat next to him on the couch. She placed her hands over his and squeezed. "It's about time I got to be the strong one," she said shakily but her voice remained light. "I secretly suspect that you were having much too much fun our last go round."
"Can we rewind? Back to Thursday night?" Scott's voice broke and he stared down at their joined hands. "Wouldn't mind doing the last forty-eight hours over again..."
"If only...." Betsy leaned into Scott, letting him rest his weight on her, if only for a moment. "But unless someone 'fesses up to some latent ability, we can't turn back time and partly, I don't think you'd want to, either." Her smile broke at that and she inhaled loudly, willing the uncomfortable feelings away.
"You're still leaving, as planned." It wasn't really a question. He didn't have the heart to ask her if this had just confirmed her decision, or not.
"Tonight," she said, her words restricted by her tightened windpipe. She lifted her head, rubbing the moisture from face with her shoulder. "We both know this place will be the death of me, if I stay. My obituary will read," her right hand, reading off the headline, "death by sheer boredom." Or some unexplained TK phenomena. she thought sourly, placing her hand back on top of his. "You're gonna be fine, Scott. The whole lot of them will ensure that much, I assure you."
He shook his head a little. "Don't worry about me," he said, managing a slightly steadier tone. "I'll muddle through. You... you need to find what you need, out there." His hands tightened around hers. "Promise me you'll be safe."
"Not in the beginning," she whispered, lifting his hands up and kissing them. "But you will be." Betsy opened her mind slightly, projecting a strong, single wave of comfort and safety lightly coiling them around his frayed nerves. Wearing a brave face as her eyes met his, she continued. "I'll be safe, but if my emails stop coming, you're welcome to send in reinforcements."
He managed a wobbly smile. "You're damned right I'll send in reinforcements. I'm good at being tyrannical, remember?"
"It's one of your more endearing qualities, darling." Betsy said with a wicked grin. "It's right up there with your maniacal tendencies and stragetic brilliance." She felt stronger because he felt stronger. Scott was still shaky but better than before, and that resounding fact gave her the strength to pull herself up from the couch.
He got up, too. "I'll hold you to those emails," he murmured, his voice still hoarse. "I want a honest-to-goodness travelogue, too. Although I'll forgive you if there are no pictures."
"Don't fret, you'll get your updates," Betsy said, emerging from Scott's room feeling confident in her decision. She turned toward him, pushing her hair out of the way and over her shoulder. Betsy contemplated her next action, before she leaned in and wrapped her arms around him. Smiling against Scott's awkwardness and closing her eyes, she tried desperately to hold onto this feeling as long as she could. "Be happy," she said in earnest, giving Scott a short peck on his cheek before disentangling herself from him.
Her face wet. Betsy Braddock walked away from Scott Summer's suite, all the while, willing herself not to turn around.
Time: Sunday afternoon
Subject: Goodbye
In these matters the only certainty is that nothing is certain.
--Pliny the Elder
She stood in front of his doorway, pressing her hand against the dark wood, and then letting it fall away. His voice was a steady reassurance in her head and even in his current state, it was too easy to fall into old habits. Betsy put a harsh clamp on her urge to listen in and knocked lightly on his door instead.
~It's me.~"
Scott, who'd been lying on the couch in the living room, staring up at the safe blankness of the ceiling, sat up, running an unsteady hand through his disheveled hair. "Come in," he called back hoarsely, aloud.
Betsy steeled herself against what could happen next. With one hasty look down both ends of the corridor, she entered his room and closed the door fimly behind her. The sight that she'd been avoiding for the past twenty-four hours was sitting on the couch in all its' unkempt glory. Whatever she was about to say stayed painfully lodged in her throat.
Scott swallowed, fighting for some semblance of composure as he looked up at her. He tried to think of what to say, but the conversation with Charles, though it had eased things on a number of levels, had sapped all his strength. Stolen all his words.
Turning away from him for a moment, her eyes soaked up the state of the room. Everything was in its' place and she wanted to remember it like this, always. Her eyes made their way around the room, until she locked eyes with him again and gave him a small smile. Betsy moved toward him now, taking her seat next to him on the couch. She placed her hands over his and squeezed. "It's about time I got to be the strong one," she said shakily but her voice remained light. "I secretly suspect that you were having much too much fun our last go round."
"Can we rewind? Back to Thursday night?" Scott's voice broke and he stared down at their joined hands. "Wouldn't mind doing the last forty-eight hours over again..."
"If only...." Betsy leaned into Scott, letting him rest his weight on her, if only for a moment. "But unless someone 'fesses up to some latent ability, we can't turn back time and partly, I don't think you'd want to, either." Her smile broke at that and she inhaled loudly, willing the uncomfortable feelings away.
"You're still leaving, as planned." It wasn't really a question. He didn't have the heart to ask her if this had just confirmed her decision, or not.
"Tonight," she said, her words restricted by her tightened windpipe. She lifted her head, rubbing the moisture from face with her shoulder. "We both know this place will be the death of me, if I stay. My obituary will read," her right hand, reading off the headline, "death by sheer boredom." Or some unexplained TK phenomena. she thought sourly, placing her hand back on top of his. "You're gonna be fine, Scott. The whole lot of them will ensure that much, I assure you."
He shook his head a little. "Don't worry about me," he said, managing a slightly steadier tone. "I'll muddle through. You... you need to find what you need, out there." His hands tightened around hers. "Promise me you'll be safe."
"Not in the beginning," she whispered, lifting his hands up and kissing them. "But you will be." Betsy opened her mind slightly, projecting a strong, single wave of comfort and safety lightly coiling them around his frayed nerves. Wearing a brave face as her eyes met his, she continued. "I'll be safe, but if my emails stop coming, you're welcome to send in reinforcements."
He managed a wobbly smile. "You're damned right I'll send in reinforcements. I'm good at being tyrannical, remember?"
"It's one of your more endearing qualities, darling." Betsy said with a wicked grin. "It's right up there with your maniacal tendencies and stragetic brilliance." She felt stronger because he felt stronger. Scott was still shaky but better than before, and that resounding fact gave her the strength to pull herself up from the couch.
He got up, too. "I'll hold you to those emails," he murmured, his voice still hoarse. "I want a honest-to-goodness travelogue, too. Although I'll forgive you if there are no pictures."
"Don't fret, you'll get your updates," Betsy said, emerging from Scott's room feeling confident in her decision. She turned toward him, pushing her hair out of the way and over her shoulder. Betsy contemplated her next action, before she leaned in and wrapped her arms around him. Smiling against Scott's awkwardness and closing her eyes, she tried desperately to hold onto this feeling as long as she could. "Be happy," she said in earnest, giving Scott a short peck on his cheek before disentangling herself from him.
Her face wet. Betsy Braddock walked away from Scott Summer's suite, all the while, willing herself not to turn around.
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