calling_logs | So when they say 'quiet' they really just mean 'as terribly dangerous as usual'

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So when they say 'quiet' they really just mean 'as terribly dangerous as usual'

Who: Steve and Dejah
What: Continuing from here, Steve and Dejah escape the beasties in a treehouse
When: Mid-afternoon
Where: City of Adventure,
Notes & Warnings: Mentions of blood and poisoning.

Now that the beasties are done with, Steve's going to climb his way up to the treehouse and collapse on the floor. Collapse because that was much harder than he'd expected it would be and while he knows he has some work to do, that he needs to check up on Dejah--

Dammit, he needs to get up and check on Dejah.

It hurts, and he's sore, but he pushes himself up and goes to take a look at her, check her wounds, see if any of them have turned an unsavory color. It's hard to tell, given her red skin and her blue blood, but so far, hopefully, so good.

"Sorry about the toss. I just... I needed to get you up there and I couldn't think of anything else to get you out of harms way. I hope it didn't hurt too much. How we doing?"

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"Almost there, I think," he reports as he keeps climbing, his eye on her, on the rope, and on the ground. After all, it wasn't that long ago he was fighting a rabid wolfpack. Or that they encountered a giant snake. He didn't like that he'd have to take the time to climb down, but it had been for the best, really.

He lowered her to the ground so gently, she barely realized her feet had touched ground until her knees started to flex. She took her weight on her legs and looked up at him.

"Got it! You can come down now!"

She was still a bit wobbly, but she could manage to keep upright until he got back. If only by sheer will.

He was watching her even as he let go of the rope, and even though it looked like she was having no trouble, he still put on double time to get down the ladder. When he finally hopped off, it was with a bit of relief and a slightly beleaguered smile. Then it was just a matter of untying things and re-looping up the rope. It was good rope, after all; no reason to leave it.

"Almost done, and then we can head to the waterfall."

She watched, nervously dragging a hand through her hair. Ugh, so much mud. Okay, maybe she can smooth out her -- nope, the shirt and khakis are pretty much a rumpled mess.

Yes, she can do this. She will not look weak in front of him. (What the hell are you even thinking, Dejah? Why is your heart pounding? Why is your mouth dry?)

When he looks back, she shoots him a shy smile, and slips her hand into the crook of his arm.

He's... not going to lie. He's more than a little surprised at that, which is why he almost starts. But he doesn't pull away. Instead, he realizes what a knucklehead he's being. She wants to hold his arm so he can help her back to the waterfall. He's got to stop making assumptions like that...

"Ready to go then?"

She nods, her breath coming a little quicker. Maybe it's exertion. Maybe it's nerves. Maybe the oxygen rich environment is playing havoc with her metabolism, and that's why she's feeling light-headed.

"Is anyone going to -- uh -- miss you? While you're out here, I mean. Taking care of me."

He shakes his head.

"No one I know's got one of these things," he admits as they start heading towards the waterfall again. "So pretty much, my time here is free."

It's one of the reasons he's here so often, honestly. If time passed, he'd never make it here. Too busy.

They make their way back down the path, the early morning sun cutting low through the trees, and the mists still receding back down to the water's edge.

"That must be a relief," she says, cutting a glance at him. Doesn't really answer her question, though, so she'll have to reconsider how to ask it another way.

"Steve? Can I ask you a personal question?"

He pauses, taking the moment to catch a breath he doesn't need that his mind insists he does. He leans one arm against a tree and turns to her with a quick nod.

"Certainly. Absolutely. Anything you like."

She gives him a little space, watching him with a bit of concern in her gaze.

"Are you feeling all right?"

Okay, so not the question she was going to ask, but he's more important than her curiosity.

That gets a blink out of him, mostly because that was not the question he was expecting.

"Oh yeah," he assures her with a smile, and there's no shortness to his breath. It's just a disagreement between his brain and his body on whether he needs the rest or not. "I'm just fine. Was... that the question?"

She peers up at him, brow furrowed.

"I was -- wondering if um," she pauses to shake her head, that same color darkening her cheeks. He's definitely not imagining it this time. "If you're seeing anyone. Back home. Or here. Possibly."

Sweet holy mother have mercy, she's terrible at this.

That. was. That was a question. Wow. So. That was a question she'd asked. She'd asked him. That question. About someone. And seeing them. Well. W e l l.

How does he answer that? How is he supposed to answer that?

After a moment of his brain being entirely blank of all language, he comes back to the truth.

"No. I'm not- no. I don't-" a breath in. "No."

I don't.

Ah. Well, that wasn't exactly the answer she was looking for, but she knows, one should never ask a question one truly doesn't want an answer to. She swallows, gives him a tiny smile in apology.

"Oh. Well, then. We should get going, perhaps. Yes. I'd like to find my sword, if you don't mind? It belonged to my grandmother. I think I told you that. Yes."

Words, Dejah. What the hell happened to your words?

"Have anyone!" bursts out of him as soon as the words actually come together in his brain. "I don't-- I'm not seeing anyone. Now. Here. Or at home."

Goddamn, he literally couldn't have done worse at that. That's why he breathes in deep and glances around where they are.

"I'll just... look for your sword now."

She's just far enough away that the words make her turn back, blue eyes flaring bright.

"So you don't -- fancy anyone, then?" The note of hope in her voice is unmistakable.

She doesn't even notice the mud she's standing in, seeping up around her ankles now.

"NO!" it comes out in something very much like a squeak. He swallows and coughs and shakes it off before looking over at her.

"I mean, that is-" a deeeeeeep breath in, "I'm not seeing anyone. And there's no one I've been... wanting to see."

She meets his gaze and drops her chin, her eyebrows creeping up, a playful little smile creeping over her lips.

"Well, then. We'll just have to see what we can do about that."

She starts to take a step and the mud gets the better of her. Her body turns, her feet don', there's a stutter step, and a bit of arm flailing before she lands in the mud with squelch.

"Shit. Oh well done, Dejah. Well done." At least she got her hands up to brake the fall?

He's trotting over almost immediately, reaching down a hand with some care to make sure that the mud doesn't get him. He doesn't actually care about falling over in mud; he's had worse. But he'd rather not fall on her and aggravate her wounds.

"Caaareful now. You're probably still a little woozy from the poison. I've heard it takes a while for that kind of stuff to filter out."

Interesting work conversation with Natasha, anyone?

She takes his hand and uses him as a counterweight to extract herself from the mire. "Yes, you're absolutely right, thank you. I believe that was pure physics working against me."

She holds onto him until she's on solid ground. It makes her feel a bit like a drunken thoat. She looks at the mud on her hands and back to where she's gotten him all muddy again.

"Well, at least we can get cleaned up a little before we head back?"

"That is the idea," he reminds her, trying to both look on the bright side and give her something to focus on that isn't the fact that she just fell in mud. He certainly knows how it feels like to be on the other side of this kind of discussion.

She wipes her hands on her skirts, smiles up at him. It's easy to forget about the bruises to her ego when he's here to pick her up. She opens her mouth to say something when a glint of light catches her eye. She leans over, shielding her eyes from the sun.

"Steve? Is that -- is that a door?"

A door?

He turns and starts looking around, not sure what in the world she could be talking about. It's not like they're in a location that encourages doors, after all. And they hadn't seen anything like a domicile since the treehouse.

"I don't even know where to look," he admits, "but we're coming up on the waterfall now."

Dejah's eyes never leave the point their fixed on, and she points as she walks down to the beach. Her sword is sunk in the muck and she squats to pick it up without ever altering her gaze. She rolls it over one wrist, slinging mud in a wide arc and revealing a silver blue blade.

"There, just behind the waterfall itself. It looks for all the world like a door way. Come on, I want to take a closer look."

She doesn't wait for him. She's still at less than optimal stamina from the previous night's adventures, but her curiosity fuels her as she presses forward.

"What in the name of Issus could that be?"

He starts to follow her, but then he remembers the fall in the mud and he reaches over gently to take her arm.

"Hey, Dejah? Dejah? Maybe... maybe we get washed up , get those wounds looked at back in the main city, and we come back here to check it out, huh?"

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