Annie Hargreeves (
defenderofdesmoines) wrote2021-01-12 12:46 pm
Entry tags:
MCA #9 | Tuesday Evening
Annie was laying on her couch and - okay, she was not reading the crappy vampire book, because she'd gotten so bored that she'd actually picked up her phone, but it was close enough that she could pretend that's what she was doing.
Instead, she'd started googling around and trying to figure out what else was popular here that they didn't have back home, because it couldn't just be sexy vampires.
"What on earth is with these little, like, pills in overalls?" she wondered (aloud, to her empty apartment, yes.) Because they were everywhere and seemed to have little attitudes and she did not get it at all.
[for one! eta: also getting NWS, proceed at your own risk]
Instead, she'd started googling around and trying to figure out what else was popular here that they didn't have back home, because it couldn't just be sexy vampires.
"What on earth is with these little, like, pills in overalls?" she wondered (aloud, to her empty apartment, yes.) Because they were everywhere and seemed to have little attitudes and she did not get it at all.
[for one! eta: also getting NWS, proceed at your own risk]

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She did know enough to lean down and press a kiss an inch or so away from the wound, because kisses made injuries better. "I think all your scars are kind of cool, honestly." Maybe it was that she didn't have any?
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"I'm glad you think they're cool because they probably aren't the last ones I'm gonna get." Probably not what she wanted hear, no.
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She wasn't going to ask him to not put himself in scary situations, or to not take risks, because if he just sat at home and didn't do dangerous things, he wouldn't be Diego.
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It was weird, actually. He had felt more focused than he ever was when alone. Maybe it was the childhood training kicking in? His dad had always put an emphasis on working as a team.
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However, that could wait, and for right now she was just really relieved that Diego was (mostly) in one piece, and that she'd been able to help (even if it had hurt.) So Annie was just going to tilt her head to kiss him again, a little more relaxed now. At least she was getting better about adjusting to the idea that she wouldn't aggravate all his injuries just by touching him?
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Which he thought was very nice of her because he probably deserved to be yelled at more.
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Someday, though, it was entirely possible she'd shout herself hoarse about Lee Harvey Oswald. As one does.
"You're not hurt anywhere else?" she checked, moving to kiss along his neck. "Just the arm?" And the little nicks she'd helped clean up, but honestly, Annie was getting used enough to this that she wasn't even going to count those as real injuries.
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That was optimistic, Annie.
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Or learn how to stop bullets. Give him time.
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At least, that's how it was going to work this time.
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Oh no, not that.
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Which meant that she would also glare disapprovingly for a few days if he tried to do anything more difficult than, like, open a jar.
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"Nothing strenuous, got it," he said with a nod. "I can totally just sit here while you dote."
He could not and would not.
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Look at her not moving just yet, though, because she was also maybe feeling a little clingy. To be fair: he had gotten shot at, so maybe a little clinging was understandable.
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Just playing fast and loose with the rules here already.
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Not that she was doing a great job at enforcing these rules, either.
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"I'm never going to complain about this," Annie mumbled, looping her arms around his neck and being very mindful of his arm. "But we should be responsible."
But then again, one of the few perks of being injured like this was the likelihood of oh-God-you-could-have-died sex, so....
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Doubtful.
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