milliways_bar | (no subject)

Jamie is also by the fireplace - or rather, kneeling in front of it, as he toasts marshmallows.

They drip a little. Hopefully not on anyone's shoes.

Buffy watches curiously in between sips of frosty pineapple goodness.

"-- Look out --" she starts to say, pointing toward a particularly wobbly marshmallows.

Jamie hastily sticks his hand underneath to catch the marshmallow, and then says a few extremely unprintable things as it lands in his hand and he remembers that it is, in fact, burning.

"-- for --"

She's off the couch, and hovering next to him. "Are you okay?"

"Mostly," Jamie says, making a face.

He scrapes his hot-goo-covered hand off on the mantelpiece. "This is more dangerous than I remembered. Thanks for the warning, anyways."

"Cold water?" she says, looking dubiously from his hand to the fireplace. "Burn ointment?" Verbs? No.

Jamie is now flapping his hand back and forth in the air, in the undignified way you do when you slam a finger.

"I'm all right. I'm lucky really, it hadn't got to the bit where it caught fire yet."

"Well, that's good, but there's still the bit where it's painfully hot." She makes a face at the goo. "Can I at least get you a wet paper towel or something? It looks sticky."

"It is," Jamie admits.

(His other marshmallow has caught fire while he's distracted.)

"Well - if you wouldn't mind -"

"Fire," says Buffy, pointing articulately. "-- You know what, I'll be right back."

She's going to get several damp paper towels. And possibly a fire extinguisher.

"- grah!" says Jamie.

When Buffy comes back, the fire has been extinguished through diligent blowing, and Jamie is looking sadly at the ruined charcoal remnants of a marshmallow.

"I don't suppose you like them well-charred?"

That's what she said!

"I'm all set, thanks," Buffy says, eyeing the ashy corpses of what were once hale and hearty marshmallows. "Here --" There are multiple damp paper towels. And a tube of ointment. "I don't know if you actually burned your hand, but I figure it can't hurt."

"Thanks -"

Jamie sets the char-on-a-stick down on his plate, and picks up one of the wet paper towels.

"You're probably right," he says, mostly for politeness' sake. "It's kind of you to think of. I heal fast, though."

She looks at him. And at his hand.

A few weeks ago she might not have asked, but after X --

"Yeah? How fast is that?"

In fact, when in Milliways, Jamie heals at . . . exactly the same pace as anyone else. But he is not yet aware of this.

"I've never stood with a watch to a cut," he says, good-naturedly. "A bit faster than most?"

That's actually true of Buffy, too. She deflates, a little.

"Just curious. I met this girl earlier who can heal anything that's not vaporization, apparently."

. . . there can't be two.

"Laura," says Jamie, brightening. "Or, well, X-23. She's who you mean, right? She's actually a friend of mine."

"Yep, that's her." She quirks an eyebrow. "Not really big on the socialization, I thought."

"She's not exactly the talkative type," Jamie admits.

"But she's awfully nice."

For given values of . . .

"And I'm used to all sorts. Different cultures, you know. And I've known her a long time. She's a good person to have at your back in a pinch."

"Yeah." She rubs her jaw. "I sparred with her, one time. Very acrobatic. And the healing doesn't hurt." Hah, hah!

What is it with Milliways and girls who could beat Jamie up?

"That is not something you'll ever catch me doing in a million years," Jamie says cheerfully. "Fast healing doesn't mean I go out looking for bruises. Or broken bones, for that matter."

Gotta catch 'em all?

"Which is a wise policy," Buffy says. "Although, I mean, you could say the same thing about marshmallow burns."

"I'm usually much better at this," Jamie protests.

"I'm out of practice, is all. I haven't had much chance for marshmallow-roasting recently. And at least with marshmallow roasting you get dessert out of it, which isn't something you can say for getting beaten up by Laura."

"You don't know that," she protests. "Maybe you could ask her to buy you a brownie after sparring with you. Like how you might buy your friend dessert if they peer edited a paper for you?"

Jamie laughs. "That would only be if she got something useful out of sparring with me, which she wouldn't, because I don't know anything about it. You might ask her for a brownie."