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]

Andrew was expecting to leave a note, but the flash of green in his peripheral vision means he doesn't have to. (Or doesn't get to. Telling Lorne in person may not be any easier.)

A pause to steel himself, and he starts forward.

[nomorekaraoke]

Similarly, noticing someone walking towards him prompts Lorne to look up, and it's with a mix of dread and excitement that his eyes light up with recognition.

"Wells. Short time no see."

[stilljustandrew]

A short nod, as he comes to a stop.

"The Council passed sentence this morning," he says without preamble.

[nomorekaraoke]

He nods, barely even aware of it himself. "Yes?" Steeling himself for the worst.

[stilljustandrew]

He's tense and aching in almost every muscle, and in spirit. It was the only decision they could possibly have reached, and yet he has no feeling of resolution, of having reached a right decision.

No better alternative.

"She's to be stripped of her Slayer powers, and permanently banished from the Academy and any other stronghold of the Slayers or the Council."

[nomorekaraoke]

Steeling himself, and then the worst fails to throw his entire world off balance. If this is the worst-- no, most suitable the Council could come up with, then Lorne doesn't have any idea what he's dealing with.

And yet, he can't stop the escalation of relief and bone-numbing fatigue that rush from the very depths of himself. "Brace yourself, you little Hershey bar, 'cause the moment I can feel my legs again I'm gonna kiss you into next week."

Threat or promise? Either way, he's beaming like he hasn't beamed in who knows how long. Ages. Years. Lifetimes.

It feels like things are finally looking up again.

[stilljustandrew]

"...wait, what?"

Of all the reactions he might have expected, this wasn't one of them.

[nomorekaraoke]

More smiles, and a wide armed gesture to come closer, have a seat, join the celebration of the good times. "Are you kidding me? I haven't been this excited since I heard the Pointer Sisters for the first time! You couldn't possibly have come up with a better solution all around!"

[stilljustandrew]

"It’s not that simple," Andrew protests –- but that tension in his gut is starting, very slowly, to unwind.

[nomorekaraoke]

"I know, I know." Okay, fine, Andy won't come on over right away, Lorne won't gesticulate quite as manically. Not quite, at any rate, but his body language remains open - which in itself is a big change from the past few encounters of theirs.

"It was a very painful process, miles of walking on broken glass, how on Earth do you make sure everyone gets what they deserve - or think they do..." He nods. "Very serious business, but I'm entitled to be deliriously happy, aren't I?"

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew does move closer, but mostly because he's lowering his voice.

"If you're happy they didn't decide to kill her or wipe her mind, then yeah. But this ... it isn't gonna be fun for her. For anyone."

[nomorekaraoke]

"She hates being what she is. She's a pacifist, not a holy warrior. What's not to like about being stripped of the powers you never wanted, and never adjusted to?"

Patting the seat beside him, Lorne arches his eyebrows. "If I'm not getting the whole picture, gimme a push in the right direction. Go on."

[stilljustandrew]

He pauses, and then gives a small but heavy sigh and slides onto the offered barstool.

"In the long run maybe she'll be okay. I hope so. But –- well, just for starters, the spell to cut her off from the Slayer line isn't ready yet. Mrs. Harkness and her wiccans are having to write it practically from the ground up. And until it's ready, she's got to stay where she is."

[nomorekaraoke]

Nodding slowly, he files the information away for further scrutiny at a later date. For now he's much more intrigued to see something...well...something new from the enigma that is Wells. Compassion, worry for someone's else's well being (not quite the same, are they, but close enough to be confused), tact and something a lot like gentility, not to mention his hint of a Spanish savvy and the fact he doesn't seem overly perplexed by Lorne's dropping pop culture snippets into every last chat-a-thon.

"Of course there will be consequences...and I'm thrilled to see that you care enough to twist and turn them over and over in your head, but... What else could you and yours have done that would fit the bill so well?"

[stilljustandrew]

"Nothing." That's flat, and heavy. "It was the best compromise we could come up with. And now we're gonna have a lot of people mad at us for going too easy on her, and I'm not sure they're gonna be wrong."

[nomorekaraoke]

"You spent a lot of time brooding this over. Didn't you." Not quite as flat, but (consciously or not) mimicking Wells's tone of voice. "All of you."

[stilljustandrew]

"Yeah."

Blue eyes meet red, and hold steady. "Yeah, we did."

[nomorekaraoke]

"I've found that," lowering his voice just a touch, averting his eyes only to look up again. "When it comes to the really tough calls, you're never going to be able to please everyone. But someone's got to make them, and then all they can do is stand up for what they did. And tentatively hope for the best, ie hope it doesn't blow up in their face straight away."

[stilljustandrew]

"Yeah," he says again, on a sigh.

Beat.

"The other Slayers got sentence passed too," he says, "the ones who assaulted you."

[nomorekaraoke]

It would seem today is a day for ambiguously good news, and it shows in the way someone's big green schnoz wrinkles up in not likey very much. Sure, judgment needs passing all around, but...they were just hurting. That they went to great lengths to be all sorts of questionable things is another kit and caboodle entirely, and that he planted himself smack dab in the middle of it, well... A demon's gotta do what a demon's gotta do.

"Don't keep me in suspense, pop tart. Bring it on."

[stilljustandrew]

"They've all been pulled off their field assignments and sent to the doghouse until further notice. Drudge work at the farm."

[nomorekaraoke]

"Oooh, ouch." Cringe ahoy, this calls for a swig of hot soup. "Talk about a boot to the ol' keister."

[stilljustandrew]

"Not sure it covers 'attempted murder,' but..." He sighs.

And then in a completely different voice, sardonic and contemptuous and faintly accented, says "Oh, please. Do they give out the Nobel Prize for attempted physics?"

[nomorekaraoke]

"Pfff!"

It isn't the most dignified snort, but hey, who really cares about silly things like that? Not Lorne. Not when he feels all kinds of elated.

And the giggles that sort of end up on the tail end of the snort, while not too manly, are so heartfelt it more than makes up for it.

Don't hate him for picturing Andrew in a vivid mauve afro. Wearing gigantic clown shoes because they're the only kind of shoes that fit.

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew's grin is a bit sheepish.

"Sorry. ...Anyway, yeah. There's probably gonna be people mad about that one too." A resigned shrug.