DeClan Asher Quinn

Fucking Out of Here.....

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“Shut. Up. You do not. How the hell don’t you fall? Aren’t you afraid you’re going to fall?”

 

He blinked thoughtfully before shrugging and shaking his head.

 

No…

 

It was very matter of fact. He never had fear when he climbed. Only freedom. If he fell and died so be it, but it was a thought that didn’t taint with fear. Head tilted, ears dipping slightly as he studied the wide-eyed expression she was languishing on him. Clearly his reaction wasn’t what she would call…normal.

 

“Could never do that in a million years, climbing I mean. My feet are on the ground... or at the very least something solid.”

 

A hint of smirk danced over his lips.

 

Doesn’t get much more solid than the rock edifice of a mountain.

 

He smiled with her regarding his experience with the swordfish.  Even he had to admit it was funny that he had been the only doctor around to treat himself.  Trying to explain in his very broken Bantu Swahili what to do to the local with him had been a complete comedy of errors. He had asked for water and somehow got a goat… he had asked for rags and somehow got a stick. He was lucky he hadn't bled to death on the spot.

 

Eyes watched the move of sleeve. The telltale mark of a burn, doctor's eyes reading it easily.  Likely from an oven, he had seen a lot of those in his day.

 

“Taking a pizza out of the oven while I was naked.”

 

Bingo.  However to manage to get a second burn across her navel was….. novel. He wasn’t really sure how one managed to get that one when pulling something out of the oven, even naked. 

 

“Ruined the pizza when I dropped it. Figured after that I needed to learn to cook instead of forgetting about frozen stuff and setting off fire alarms. The naked part is another story altogether”

 

Odd. It was the last part he was actually interested in but was denied the story. Naked came up a lot in their conversation. The very thought made elongated ears blush. He hadn't thought of naked skin as more than something to operate on in over eight years. And he could honestly tell himself the type of naked he was thinking of at the moment was most definitely not clinical in nature. Her surly smile was doing nothing to de-crimsonify his elongated appendages.

 

As she walked to the kitchenette to rinse her bowl he took a moment to compose himself, sipping from the newly filled mug as he glanced at the bowl he had set aside. He hadn't eaten enough…. per usual. But as he watched her from the corner of his gaze, he was frankly more distracted by  her licking the spoon than his own food.

 

"C'mon Doc,what else ya got? If you drop your pants and show me one on your ass I'm gonna die."

 

Brow raised before a mischievous smirk lit the corner of his lips. Hand scratching at the back of his neck.

 

The scar on my ass will just need to stay a mystery for now. Lets just say me and a painted wolf had a disagreement.

 

He had all kinds of fun injuries while working in Africa.

 

"Better take care of that on your cheek though, might scar,"

 

Blink was clearly not comprehending her comment as his hand lifted to touch the wrong cheek, rubbing over the faint scruff before checking the other cheek, muscle down to the jaw flinching when he did. Oh… the cable had hit him in the storm. He had completely forgotten about it. Pulling his hand away there was no blood, just the raised welt there. Shrug was absent minded.

 

Eh…. hardly serious…. besides… supposedly ladies like scars or something like that right?

 

Brow lifted as she confessed her powers might reach into the realm of healing. She wanted him to be… a guinea pig? Healers. There were lots of them now. Time would come when the one thing he was good at would be obsolete. Then what? He would have no purpose.

 

It was an ugly and sobering thought that drew the mug up for a complete draining.

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No…

 

She had nothing to say, merely stare.  Her mouth opened a few times to make a comment, but closed again when she couldn’t make it form into a coherent sentence. 

 

Doesn’t get much more solid than the rock edifice of a mountain.

 

“So is the ground below it,” her words were articulate, suspicious eyes still trying to comprehend why exactly he’d want to be on a sheer vertical rock.

 

Then it was her turn.  Smirk was quick at the blush of ears.  Bully for her.  Ginger three, doc zero… eyes narrowing as the expression on his face that came after was anything but embarrassed.  Maybe two and a half, doc point five?  She’d give anything to find out what he was thinking.  Most of the time he was a completely blank slate, now there was an easy bubbling behind the façade that was never there.  She settled back in on the couch, leaning on the arm and both hands on the mug to nurse the swanky booze like hot chocolate.  He had her undivided attention, toes wiggling a moment.

 

The scar on my ass will just need to stay a mystery for now. Lets just say me and a painted wolf had a disagreement.

 

The brilliant laugh was immediate, a small pillow tossed at him for emphasis.

 

“Not fair, I call bullshit!” she quipped, sipping from the mug, eyes over it daring him.  He seemed confused for a moment about her healing comment.  After all the hell they’d gone through less than a week ago, it did bother her to see an injury of any kind.  Pure luck or something any of them had gotten out alive.

 

Eh…. hardly serious…. besides… supposedly ladies like scars or something like that right?

 

She noted the complete drain of his drink after the almost disbelieving quirk he’d given her.

 

“Depends where the scars are...  No really, about the healing thing,” she pursed her lips, brow coming down.  “I brought your fever down in the hospital.  You probably don’t remember.  Not entirely sure exactly what it is... some sort of weird current, electrical... never mind,” voice was quiet, fingers tapping on her mug, expression perking back up.  “Okay, if I can’t see the ass then I get the last one.”

 

Was she goading him a bit?  Yessss?  Smirk was mischievous.  She leaned up on her knees and lifted her shirt to show an almost identical stomach scar on the opposite side of her pizza burn.

 

“Guess.  For the win.  Winner gets... the rest of the bottle, and the bed.”

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Arm lifted to block the hurled "weapon" as her laugher brightened the entire loft. It was a sound he had not really let himself hear in a very long time. It drew a rare and easy full smile to his lips. Ten years of living as a hermit he had forgotten what it was like to be relaxed with another person. In ten years he rarely relaxed, except perhaps when he was alone and four or five bottles deep in his drink and then it was a hazed relaxation.

 

This was clear….vivid.

 

“Not fair, I call bullshit!”

 

Absolutely not bullshit….. hell of a bite on those things.

 

As if the memory lingered his hand rubbed the back of his left hip with a quirked brow.  He was still haunted by the thought of the world moving to magic and abilities for all healing. If it did.. and he had no more worth… would that be the moment he put the bullet in his brain.

 

“Okay, if I can’t see the ass then I get the last one. Guess. For the win. Winner gets... the rest of the bottle, and the bed.”

 

It was without thought that he walked over, mug coming to his lips forgetting it was empty as the free hand reached to run masterful fingers over the scar on her side and stomach, eyes taking a serious and clinical expression as the old wound was studied with the eyes of a surgeon.

 

mmm…..slice is a bit uneven, surgeon getting in in a hurry.

 

Fingers slid along her flesh, widening out from the scar to stretch it horizontally as his head tilted slightly.

 

Based on location and size its either appendix or gall bladder.

 

Hand slid up onto the bottom rib to pull the skin gently upward as head tilted the other way.

 

Decent surgeon does gall bladders through three small punctures which means he was either not decent or it was dire. Not typical of gall bladder so I would have to go with appendix.

 

Her shirt had slid down in her grip, gently blanketing over the top of his fingers and suddenly he was aware his cool fingers were spread over her warm skin and under her shirt. They froze but didn’t pull immediately away. Quiet silver eyes remained fixed on the old scar on her side as the thumb rubbed the lower rib he still held.

 

Breath was deep as he became aware, stepping back and letting his fingers slide from her skin with a faint apologetic smile as he moved to the side of the bed and pulled the door on the floor up once more to get a fresh bottle.

 

He needed another drink….. a big one.

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Smirk was palpable as she finally managed to lift a smile from his lips that was somewhat what she would deem as genuine.  Most things so far, except for utter surprise, had seemed a bit “forced”.  Not in the usual way, but almost like he knew that’s where he should smile, so he did.  This time, she’d gotten him.  The first time it felt that way too.

 

Absolutely not bullshit….. hell of a bite on those things.

 

The smirk grew wider, flickering slightly when she felt a push back of something more melancholy.  She was starting to be able to disseminate what was her, what was him, what was the beastie below, and the overall emptiness of the water stretching beyond it.  It was like a slow detangle of many tightly knotted threads... and it was starting to worry her.

 

To keep him on the other side of the fence instead of slipping into that melancholy, one last challenge then… fuck his fingers were cold.

 

mmm…..slice is a bit uneven, surgeon getting in in a hurry.

 

“Wait what?” it was her turn to furl her brow as she looked down at the proclaimed ‘hastily done’ scar.  Could scars be screwed up?  Ugly?  Lips pursed slightly almost in offense as she glanced back up at him.

 

Based on location and size its either appendix or gall bladder.

 

Hmmm….. she protested, “it’s an ugly scar?  Scars can’t be ugly.”

 

Decent surgeon does gall bladders through three small punctures which means he was either not decent or it was dire. Not typical of gall bladder so I would have to go with appendix.

 

Brow still furled.  Mouth opened, then closed.

 

“Cheater.”

 

Expression was playfully sour, relaxing slightly at the flushed warmth in her chest..  The second his thumb moved she jerked suddenly, bubbled laughter lighting up the room.  She was so fucking ticklish. Hand caught his to keep it from any more, as he stepped back and went for more booze.  She regretted that, quiet breath sucked in.  That was… a rush of something she wasn’t expecting.  Suspected maybe… she couldn’t think of anything to say.  There were so many things she wanted to say but didn't think he could handle... so...

 

“Sorry, super ticklish.  Probably should have warned you.  You win.”

 

Swallow was soft, dumb thing to say.  It was the only thing that came out.  Something else… something else.

 

“Your hands are cold,” she said quietly.

 

This was going to be a terrible trip.  An awful trip.  Dancing around him dancing around her.  How the hell did this happen.  She knew exactly how it happened, she let it happen.  Had she led him on?  No.  She wanted it to happen.

 

She snatched the bottle from his fingers, soft clunk on the counter.

 

“There wasn’t an ulterior motive to get on this trip. I just want you to know that,” detangling and distancing herself from all the bullshit he dealt with daily.  Sigh was soft.  Fingers went up and over his ears to tuck disheveled still damp hair behind them…and hell, just to steal a touch if he kicked her out completely.  Soft kiss lingered on his cheek, forehead to his before she stepped off to gather up her things for a night on the boat.

 

“You won,” bag was stuffed under her arm.  “See you in the morning; you have to do the dishes by the way.”

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“….it’s an ugly scar?  Scars can’t be ugly.”

 

Gray eyes were still studying the line as lips murmured only half aware he was even answering her.

 

Neither ugly nor un-ugly… simply skilled or not. Likely only my eyes would see such difference.

 

As he declared his answer he was still staring at her skin, feeling the warmth under his cold fingers.

 

“Cheater.”

 

So warm. So soft. So female.

 

Thumb gently set out to explore it further when she jumped and her laughter lit up the room, drawing gray eyes out of their hypnotic reverie to blink in surprise and snatch his hand away.

 

Just what had he been planning on doing?!

 

Swallow was thick as he sought solace in the one thing that he could count on in this world that had taken his everything.

 

“Sorry, super ticklish.  Probably should have warned you.  You win.”

 

Nod was apologetic as he sought something strong and a bottle that was full.

 

“Your hands are cold,”

 

Sorry….doc hands….

 

He glanced down at the unusually long digits as fingers rubbed into the palm and up the thumb thoughtfully.

 

They always been on the cold side.

 

As he stood with the bottle in one hand he found it snatched away in a single motion and set on the counter, leaving gray eyes blinking down at her.

 

“There wasn’t an ulterior motive to get on this trip. I just want you to know that,”

 

Chest seized as fingers slid up into his hair, tucking it behind what she could not know were highly sensitive ears.

 

Do something…..

 

Her lips brushed his cheek and again that seize grappled his breath away.

 

Do something….

 

Forehead pressed to his. Warmth spilling across his cool skin, transferred from her more deeply hued flesh.

 

Do something….

 

Then the warmth was stolen. Slipping away to pack her bag as he stood there, the empty glass still dangling in loose fingers.

 

“You won. See you in the morning; you have to do the dishes by the way.”

 

She turned to head down the stairs.

 

He finally did something.

 

It happened so fast, his hand shooting out to snatch her by the elbow, grip a bit too tight as she was drawn backward until her spine nestled against his abs and chest. He just…..held her there. He didn’t know why. Silence lay like a blanket over the loft, his breath coming deep enough to press against the back of her shoulders each time his ribs expanded. Below, the sound of air shooting out of a blowhole seemed deafeningly loud as he simply stood there.

 

Gray eyes had closed. Didn’t want her to stay….didn't want her to go….. what did he want?

 

What did he want…..?

 

Head lowered until the bridge of his nose pressed against the back of her skull, nostrils breathing in the damp scent of shampoo as the hand finally released her arm and slid lightly up it before his fingers slipped delicately across her collarbone until they came to the other shoulder and squeezed it lightly, weight of his arm now hugging her into his chest as he simply…. stood there.

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Neither ugly nor un-ugly… simply skilled or not. Likely only my eyes would see such difference.

 

Well then.  Skilled sometimes played off as arrogant, but he had bragging rights to be both.

 

Sorry….doc hands….

 

Eyes blinked softly at the odd self-consciousness.  If he’d been anyone else, this would have gone in a vastly different direction.  He, his behavior, set her back on her keel.  She didn’t want to step on his toes, be the pest that everyone always was in his presence.  Plus the head of the nurses still scared her to death.  So… if had been anyone else, her free spirit would have made this trip a very different one already.

 

They always been on the cold side.

 

She nodded just as thoughtfully, her non-ulterior motive confession absolutely needing to be said at this point.  Quirk of brow hid the decision to find some way back to New York on her own or this was going to be a very uncomfortable trip from here on out.  What was seeping into her bones from around her just couldn’t be anything else but discomfort waiting to happen.  She was already going to get smacked on the back of the head from her “boss” if she didn’t halt this right now.

 

Lips pursed at the snatch of elbow, the thick swallow stopping her breath.  She was still, like a deer that had just been discovered.  Did she move?  Did she tactfully excuse herself, because now she felt like an ass that had led him on?  But she hadn’t, had she?  No, no she didn’t.

 

It wasn’t until his hand came up and around her shoulders did she relax.  Eyes closed a moment, her possessions that she was still holding dropping quietly to the floor.  One hand found his on her shoulder, her intertwining fingers warming up gently to bleed into his cool skin.  The other found his and pulled it across her stomach.  The silence, welcome. Away from the city, the emptiness seemed fathomless. First distressing, now relaxing. It was a moment of being alone without the jumble of everyone else’s presence.  He too, seemed content.  A brief minute when the world could stop.

 

If he had been anybody else.

 

When had she started to let things like that stop her?

 

Cheek turned slightly, nuzzling into their intertwined fingers at her shoulder, her hand pulling them down to join the others at her stomach to release and turn.  Hands drew up to his chest and she pushed, enough to push the nimble balanced elf backward and off his feet onto to his back on the bed.  Like a languid feline, she prowled on top and made quick work of curling up next to him, fingers clutching into his shirt and nose nuzzled under his ear on the side of his neck. 

 

Long sigh was quiet, hovering in the silence for a moment.

 

Hoping she wasn’t going to get pushed off.

 

Eyes opened slightly when she wasn’t, fingertips flexing to extend slightly and play with the stubble of his chin.  She was giving him every opportunity… and admittedly didn’t want to untangle herself.  She thrived on touch, loved it.  Always had.  Casual.  Not so casual.

 

If he’d been anyone else.

 

Ah what the hell.

 

Fingertip reached up and touched the edge of his lower lip, light jade peering through still woven lashes.  She leaned up on one elbow and followed up with a gentle peck, the fingertips with a mind of their own tucking locks of unruly tendrils behind her ear, then reaching to do the same to him- lingering on the top of his ear… because she was fascinated with them, and because of what she felt jump through the air when she'd touched them before.

 

“I don’t have to go,” she said quietly.  “If you don’t want me to.”

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((((aaaaand......dancing in the dark!!!)))

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