holdmyflower | (no subject)

(no subject)

[Well, Mal. Today your...cousin? Nephew? The sheepdog you are legally the emergency contact for, suplexed your wife off a set of baseball stadium lights.

Given she's a werewolf, she's alive, but severely unconscious, and they basically brought her back to their house to set down because they don't have any vets on staff and he knows a lot about werewolves, right?

It's gonna be a few hours before she starts to wake up. Close to evening, after much of the...shenanigans have already occurred. He'll know it's about time before she'll actually revert back to a person wherever she's been set down, shortly before she starts to wake up. She probably has the headache of the century.

What do you wish to do?]

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[She has caught his hand successfully between her chin and neck? Chin and couch?? Um???]

If we stopped doing things because I worried after you, we'd never do anything. I accepted this when I started dating and living with a cop.

[...Yes let her. Shift so his hand is somewhere less awkward. Like her boobs. Or you know, she'll just hold it like a sane person.]

That's a good point, but...right now logic's a little hard for me to handle.

I was getting the impression.

[Yes, barkbark, you can have his hand to do with what you will. He's just going to watch her with a bit of a bemused expression.]

...I'm scared, Mal. Whatever those kids are getting into is over my head.

[What if. What if she flops over onto his lap. What if that.]

[Then he is going to pull his hands free, so he can pet her again.]

Well... in the old days, if someone beat you, it meant they could take care of themselves. We have to trust they're strong enough, then, don't we?

...It's harder than I thought it would be. He's not even my kid...I guess I look pretty ridiculous.

[Leaning into the pets, and sighing.]

Maybe I should just take my vacation days. Not go in the rest of the week.

You've got medical leave for the next forty-eight, then you can take your days off. You might as well enjoy yourself.

[...What if scritches, Elly? Would scritches help in this harrowing times?]

[Given the sound she just made, yes. Yes it does.] Forty-eight...wow, was it that bad?

Well, no. It would have been that bad for a normal person. Thankfully, you heal at an accelerated rate, and I can further spur on your metabolism if you need me to.

[But that would involve letting him up, which given these scritches probably isn't happening any time soon.]

[If she had a tail in the form he would be in danger of her hurting him with the strength of it wagging, yes.]

...Ask me about that again when I finally have to get up for a bath. Unless you really feel like helping me bathe, and not even in the fun way?

I figure you'll want to be left alone for that to just soak. Even with your endurance, that had to hurt quite a bit.

[But there will be a pause of scritch, so he can lean in and kiss the top of her head.]

[he's getting a facebomp and a cheeklick for that.]

...Honestly, I might need help anyway, broken bones are...less than fun to mend.

Well I can certainly make you something for that.

[She gets a proper forehead kiss for that, if she's leaning in so close. He was worried, that much is evident.]

...On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is this gonna taste?

[She'll drink it no matter what, but...well, some of Mal's concoctions she's gotta steel herself for.]

Probably at least a 6. At least there's less of a chance of side-effects this time? I think. I'll be honest, shapeshifter physiology is kind of a black box in a lot of ways.

Yeah, well...most people don't care if they end up accidentally killing us, and most of the packs are too superstitious to want to look more into it. Heaven forbid the root of our power is something other than some grand Wolf spirit...

[Sighhhh.]

...I'll take a six.

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