![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
FIC: Recovery - Willow/NCIS - tth100
Title: Recovery (Willow/NCIS)
Series: Connections #31
Author: Lyl (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lyl_devil)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't claim any rights to either show. I just like to play in their sandboxes occasionally.
Prompt table -> HERE
Prompt – 087: Hot
Words: 97
Summary: He really needed to lay off those scifi movies.
Thanks toidontlikegravy for the quick beta.
~!~
The Great Sun Monster was about to close its jaws around Tony when he woke up with a jolt. It took him a moment to realize that the blankets cocooning his body were, in fact, not the grizzled hands of the previously thought of monster, and that the suffocating heat was his own body heat, not some impossible creature that wanted to eat him.
He really needed to lay off those scifi movies.
Fighting his way free from the makeshift blanket prison, Tony slowly stretched out the stiff muscles, happy to find that a large portion of the aches and stiffness were from sleeping too long in one position, instead of the new and familiar 'plague related injuries'.
The light coming through the curtained window told him it was early evening, letting him know that at least a few hours had passed since his last waking period. He actually felt relatively well-rested for the first time since he'd opened that stupid envelope at work.
Turning his head, he noticed a glass of water and two pills sitting on the bedside table, and was instantly grateful to whoever had placed them there.
Using more muscles than he thought were necessary, Tony slowly manoeuvred himself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, downing the pills and the water in a single go. He paused for a few minutes for the simple reason that he could, before deciding that a shower was definitely in order. He hadn't had the time – or the energy – for one since he'd been released from the hospital. The sweat left over from his overheated wake-up was slowly drying, leaving a prickling sensation where none should be.
Easing up slowly, he made his way to the bathroom, glad there was no one around to witness his 'old man shuffle' across his bedroom.
Forty minutes under a spray of hot water had him feeling mostly human. It had also given him a chance to ponder the mystery that was Willow. The overheard conversation from earlier that day had clued him to the fact she was Gibbs' niece, but that was all. It did, however, explain a few things.
Like why Gibbs had been after his blood for coming on to her.
A fresh set of clothes and he was ready to face the rest of his apartment.
Stepping into the living room, he stopped in surprise at the presence of a second person.
“Willow, right?” he asked, trying to put some of his old enthusiasm into the greeting. But he was tired and aching, and finally decided to screw it. His brush with the plague had taken a lot out of him, and he wasn't up to faking he was all better. Not quite yet, anyway.
Though he really shouldn't have bothered; she kept her attention on the laptop in front of her, throwing a distracted “Mm-hmm” in his direction.
There was some more key tapping, and Tony decided to see if his stomach was up to eating anything more solid than jello.
“There's some soup in the fridge – just heat it up in the microwave,” she called out as he shuffled into the kitchen. Deciding he just wasn't up to scavenging through the kitchen on his own, Tony opened the fridge and was happy to see that all he had to do was put the dish in the microwave and hit start.
It was the little things that really mattered – like the soup already in the bowl.
Less than a minute later, he slumped down onto one of the kitchen stools, suddenly realizing he'd overdone it somewhere along the way and now his legs could barely hold him.
Hearing the microwave ding, he realized that he would have to come up with some way to bring the soup to him, without moving from where he was. He was about to give up on using the Force to transport it over, when a voice said “I'll get it.”
Willow had the soup in front of him on the counter, spoon and glass of water appearing at the same time, all before he realized she had entered the kitchen.
Ok. So he wasn't up to 100% yet. Maybe 60-70%.
Watching the spoon shake, he revised it to 40%. Tops.
He looked up to see if Willow had seen this overt sign of weakness, only to find her engrossed in some papers she had apparently brought with her.
The deliberate way she was not looking at him made it obvious that she had seen everything, but was perfectly capable of pretending ignorance.
That worked just fine for him.
“You know, you don't have to spend every minute with me. I can take care of myself,” he said after a few minutes of silence. “You don't need to waste your Monday on me.”
Willow looked at him strangely, and Tony wondered what he'd done wrong.
“It's Wednesday,” she said slowly, like she was talking to someone with considerable brain damage.
He couldn't be brain damaged, right? The plague only affected his lungs and stuff, not his brain. Someone would have said something! Right?
“You've been asleep for almost two days,” she added, and he didn't feel so stupid, because how could he know he'd slept for two days. He'd been asleep!
But, still, “Two days? Really?”
“Uh huh,” she said with a solemn shake of her head. “I called Dr Mallard, but he said that was normal.”
“Huh.”
“And Uncle Jethro fixed it with work. I can work from here the whole week,” she said, turning back to her papers with a little smile on her face.
“Huh,” he said again, returning to his overly delicious soup, thinking it over as he tried not to smile.
Gibbs did care.
END
Series: Connections #31
Author: Lyl (
lyl_devil)Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't claim any rights to either show. I just like to play in their sandboxes occasionally.
Prompt table -> HERE
Prompt – 087: Hot
Words: 97
Summary: He really needed to lay off those scifi movies.
Thanks to
idontlikegravy for the quick beta.~!~
The Great Sun Monster was about to close its jaws around Tony when he woke up with a jolt. It took him a moment to realize that the blankets cocooning his body were, in fact, not the grizzled hands of the previously thought of monster, and that the suffocating heat was his own body heat, not some impossible creature that wanted to eat him.
He really needed to lay off those scifi movies.
Fighting his way free from the makeshift blanket prison, Tony slowly stretched out the stiff muscles, happy to find that a large portion of the aches and stiffness were from sleeping too long in one position, instead of the new and familiar 'plague related injuries'.
The light coming through the curtained window told him it was early evening, letting him know that at least a few hours had passed since his last waking period. He actually felt relatively well-rested for the first time since he'd opened that stupid envelope at work.
Turning his head, he noticed a glass of water and two pills sitting on the bedside table, and was instantly grateful to whoever had placed them there.
Using more muscles than he thought were necessary, Tony slowly manoeuvred himself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, downing the pills and the water in a single go. He paused for a few minutes for the simple reason that he could, before deciding that a shower was definitely in order. He hadn't had the time – or the energy – for one since he'd been released from the hospital. The sweat left over from his overheated wake-up was slowly drying, leaving a prickling sensation where none should be.
Easing up slowly, he made his way to the bathroom, glad there was no one around to witness his 'old man shuffle' across his bedroom.
Forty minutes under a spray of hot water had him feeling mostly human. It had also given him a chance to ponder the mystery that was Willow. The overheard conversation from earlier that day had clued him to the fact she was Gibbs' niece, but that was all. It did, however, explain a few things.
Like why Gibbs had been after his blood for coming on to her.
A fresh set of clothes and he was ready to face the rest of his apartment.
Stepping into the living room, he stopped in surprise at the presence of a second person.
“Willow, right?” he asked, trying to put some of his old enthusiasm into the greeting. But he was tired and aching, and finally decided to screw it. His brush with the plague had taken a lot out of him, and he wasn't up to faking he was all better. Not quite yet, anyway.
Though he really shouldn't have bothered; she kept her attention on the laptop in front of her, throwing a distracted “Mm-hmm” in his direction.
There was some more key tapping, and Tony decided to see if his stomach was up to eating anything more solid than jello.
“There's some soup in the fridge – just heat it up in the microwave,” she called out as he shuffled into the kitchen. Deciding he just wasn't up to scavenging through the kitchen on his own, Tony opened the fridge and was happy to see that all he had to do was put the dish in the microwave and hit start.
It was the little things that really mattered – like the soup already in the bowl.
Less than a minute later, he slumped down onto one of the kitchen stools, suddenly realizing he'd overdone it somewhere along the way and now his legs could barely hold him.
Hearing the microwave ding, he realized that he would have to come up with some way to bring the soup to him, without moving from where he was. He was about to give up on using the Force to transport it over, when a voice said “I'll get it.”
Willow had the soup in front of him on the counter, spoon and glass of water appearing at the same time, all before he realized she had entered the kitchen.
Ok. So he wasn't up to 100% yet. Maybe 60-70%.
Watching the spoon shake, he revised it to 40%. Tops.
He looked up to see if Willow had seen this overt sign of weakness, only to find her engrossed in some papers she had apparently brought with her.
The deliberate way she was not looking at him made it obvious that she had seen everything, but was perfectly capable of pretending ignorance.
That worked just fine for him.
“You know, you don't have to spend every minute with me. I can take care of myself,” he said after a few minutes of silence. “You don't need to waste your Monday on me.”
Willow looked at him strangely, and Tony wondered what he'd done wrong.
“It's Wednesday,” she said slowly, like she was talking to someone with considerable brain damage.
He couldn't be brain damaged, right? The plague only affected his lungs and stuff, not his brain. Someone would have said something! Right?
“You've been asleep for almost two days,” she added, and he didn't feel so stupid, because how could he know he'd slept for two days. He'd been asleep!
But, still, “Two days? Really?”
“Uh huh,” she said with a solemn shake of her head. “I called Dr Mallard, but he said that was normal.”
“Huh.”
“And Uncle Jethro fixed it with work. I can work from here the whole week,” she said, turning back to her papers with a little smile on her face.
“Huh,” he said again, returning to his overly delicious soup, thinking it over as he tried not to smile.
Gibbs did care.
END