At Milliways, recovering

[nomorekaraoke]

A new day, a new shot at life, another day of taking it easy and letting himself heal, of taking 'proper' care of himself. Doctor's orders include: No excessive drinking. Excessive sugar intake. Plenty of rest.

So, that's what Lorne's been keeping busy with. It beats thinking about Emma-Beth back home sweet Earth. So, nursing a big cup of thai chicken soup (sweet and savory), Lorne is carefully readjusting to life without his arm caught in a metaphorical noose.

Comments

[stilljustandrew]

"You're not old," he says, sounding amusedly indignant.

[nomorekaraoke]

"I feel old." A hint of his earlier mirth shines through his voice, and he gestures at the general vicinity of his forehead. "Just look at my frown lines!"

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew snorts mildly, and takes another drink of his coffee.

[nomorekaraoke]

It's the desired effect, and that's got to be enough. Because, like they say, enough is enough, and he's had more than enough of being social for tonight. Today. What ever time of day or night this is.

"I'd better get back to bed. Doc's orders, I need to get plenty R&R if I ever want to get on top of things again. You don't take a boot to the heart like that and just brush it off, not even if you're Pylean. Or so she says."

[stilljustandrew]

"I'll let you get to it, then." He raises his glass halfway. "Rest well."

[nomorekaraoke]

"Take care, Samwise." He slowly slides off the stool, rolling his shoulders as if to just make sure everything is in place. Then, draining his glass, which disappears where he sets it down, he gives Andrew one last smile.

He has a feeling that pet name will stick.