milliways_bar | (no subject)

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[OOM: Door in London Below]

Door stumbles in - through the bathroom door, this time. Blood coats the right side of her face, matting her hair and dripping onto her leather jacket.

Beneath the blood, she is pale and scared.

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"Just water, thank you," she says, sitting in the nearest chair. "And something to clean this with, if you don't mind...?"

"You got it," says Biff, who runs off and comes back with water and a clean towel. "Man, you did a number on yourself. Are you sure you're okay?"

Door dabs at herself, washing away a good deal of the blood. There's a gash on her temple, but it's not particularly deep.

"I'm a bit shaken up, but I really do feel alright. Why? Does it look bad?"

Biff eyes the wound. "It's a bit long, but no, not that bad, as gashes go."

"Good," she says, obviously relieved. "I mean, it doesn't feel awful, so I figured, but..."

"Well, you're alive anyway." Pause. "You are alive, right?"

Door laughs. "Always a good question, here. Yes, I am. And yourself?"

"Resurrected." He grins. "It sounds more interesting than plain old 'alive.'"

Door raises an eyebrow. "Interesting. I think you may be part of a category of existence that's actually somewhat small, here."

"There's only one other person I know who was resurrected as well as me, and I'm going to marry her," says Biff, proudly. "As soon as I get out of here."

"Truly? Congratulations! And who might that be?"

"Her name's Maggie." Biff's grin widens. "Hey, do you need another towel? Maybe a bandage?"

"A bandage, probably," she agrees. "I think I've cleaned it as best I can. Is Maggie not here?"

Biff runs over to the bar and returns with a bandage. "Here. Bar gave me something in a can that looks like antiseptic, too. I haven't bandaged that many wounds, but I can give it a shot." He shakes his head. "Maggie's back in New York. We were living there after we got resurrected. But I'm stuck here now, for some reason."

"I'd say something wise and old-timer-ish," Door says, "but you've probably heard it all already, and in any case, I'm sure you know more about being bound than I do."

"That I do. Keep busy, and have a good book to read. Oh, and try the pizza, that's the secret to a succesful life Bound."

Biff has arranged the bandages on a table and is trying to touch them as little as possible, because he knows where his hands have been.

Door sets about binding her arm.

"I'm not sure I've ever had the pizza here. Is it really that good?"

"If I hadn't already died, I'd die for it."

"Well, I shall try it next time I'm here for dinner on your recommendation, then."

She finishes tying down her bandages and smiles at him.

"If it's awful, I'm blaming you."

"Me? Blame the chef!" Biff objects.

"But blaming you will be far more amusing, I'm sure," Door points out.

"You never know. The chef could be infinitely amusing to blame. You may need to conduct a personal investigation into the level of amusment you could get from blaming either one of us. A sort of compare and contrast project, you know?"

"But who really does the cooking? I mean, Gil, sometimes, of course, but who cooks the things that just materialise on Bar?"

Biff frowns thoughtfully.

"I do not know. Perhaps I should look into it. In fact, to discourage future blaming, I think I will right now. Unless you need more help."

"No, I think I'll be fine. Thank you so much for your help..." She laughs. "You know, we never even exchanged names. I'm Door."

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buddyofchrist.livejournal.com - 2005-07-27 06:16 (UTC) - Expand

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iopenthings - 2005-07-27 06:23 (UTC) - Expand

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