scurlock | oom: room 25

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oom: room 25

[after this]

Bar takes care of the pile of wet clothes (his duster, jacket, hat, and gloves) for him with a note saying she'd have them laundered, but Doc slings his scarf over his shoulder before he and Miss Katherine head for the stairwell.

He's more focused on not tripping his way up the stairs, even with her arm around his middle, to try and talk much. Thankfully, his door's unlocked, and since he was going away for a spell (even with Bar saying it would be quick) his room is spotless. The desk is neat and organized, the bed made, his laundry done and in the drawers, and the shades half-shut.

"I appreciate this," he says, needlessly.

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"Deal," she chuckles, tenderly cupping his face with one hand before straightening up. "Could do to trim your beard, soon."

She moves his meal to the coffee table and heads for the door, glancing over her shoulder before she goes. Just to make sure he'll be okay.

Bar has no mail for him, and Katherine doesn't eat much. Just an apple, cut into quarters and served with sharp cheese. She's antsy about leaving him alone too long.

Bar gives her a tall glass of water, even adding some ice and a lemon wedge. Katherine heads back upstairs, rapping on his door to make sure he's had enough time to dress before entering.

Doc's changed, dressed in the long johns, pants, and wool socks, and he's already started on the meal when she raps on the door. "S'open!"

The door is unlocked, and he's sitting on the couch (with one of the throw blankets over his shoulders, his hair combed back and actually looking somewhat respectable, since he took an actual comb through it) and he looks up at her when she enters.

She'll be proud of him for eating, and having the blanket.

"I managed alright," he says, as he has another bite of the food.

She is indeed proud, as evidenced by the smile on her face as she moves towards him. The water gets set near his plate, and she gets set next to him on that couch, a hand rubbing up and down his back to give him some warmth.

"So you did," she says.

"Bar didn't have any mail for you. How's the dinner sittin'?"

He leans into her touch a bit.

"Sittin' just fine, actually. S'been a few days since I had a proper meal," he admits. "Not that I've been starvin' myself or nothin'," he adds, before she can chide him ~~too much~~ for not eating.

She does cluck her tongue at the admission, her expression clearly unamused.

"Well, you just eat as much as you can," she encourages, drawing her hand through his freshly-combed hair.

She doesn't mind sitting quietly while he puts something hearty on his belly.

Doc clears the plate, and drinks the water, before he pushes it all aside slightly and then wraps the blanket around his shoulders a bit tighter and glances over at her.

And then smirks.

"Beard gettin' t'be a bit much, then?"

"S'a little long," she informs him, a patient smirk on her features.

She's slowly dragging her fingernails through the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Don't like shavin' it off, durin' the winter. It keeps my face warm."

Plus it makes him look older, and not the babyfaced tenderfoot on all those wanted posters.

His eyes slip shut slightly at the feeling of her fingernails on his neck, and a shiver runs down his spine that is completely unrelated to the cold.

"Tickles when I kiss you," she admits, not sounding particularly bothered by it.

But it does make it hard not to giggle when their lips are pressed to each other's.

She keeps the motion of her fingers on his neck constant, watching his face for any signs of discomfort.

"How y'feelin'?" she murmurs at last.

Doc grins at that.

"Reckon it does."

He's quiet, content, for those quiet moments, before he shrugs his shoulders slightly.

"Could probably use t'sleep. Hotel in Larned wasn't very comfortable." He still doesn't open his eyes. "Y'want to stay?"

She carefully examines his features, expecting him to open his eyes. When he doesn't, she draws in a breath and holds it before answering.

"You're lookin' improved," she whispers, hand gone back to smoothing over his hair tenderly. "Maybe I should just tuck you in and let you rest, since you seem to be managing just fine on your own."

He tips his head slightly towards her hand.

And shivers.

"Do feel a bit better," he admits, with a small sigh, as he sniffles a little bit more and reaches up to rub his nose.

There's a pull at the corner of her mouth as she watches him do so.

"Only a bit better?" she presses.

"Was awful cold out there," he says.

Then he glances at her.

"Could use the body heat"

"Think the cold's affected your brain, Cowboy."

But she laughs, nuzzling up to his face.

"You are mighty peaked, still. All right, I'll stay."

For his health and safety, of course.

Besides, she's not sure he could try anything, in the condition he's in.

"Might be so," he replies.

But even with that beard on his face, he tips his head slightly to catch her mouth in a kiss, that's not quite innocent, but close enough.

(He can't help himself, what with her right there, her hand rubbing at his neck.)

It wins him a surprised little moan, before she kisses him back, her other hand trailing up to touch his cheek.

...Okay. Maybe she was wrong about his condition.

She breaks from his mouth with a smile, licking her lips before shyly dipping her head away.

"...Could you give me a moment?" she asks softly.

"Course."

He inclines his head to the bed.

"I can go start pullin' all those layers back, probably take me five moments," he quips, eying the stack of blankets on the bed. Unless she'd rather he stay...

She smirks.

"Go on and get settled in; I'm just gonna head to my room and get some things."

She pats his leg gently before rising from the couch and making for the door. She isn't out long, since her room is only a floor away, but when she gets back she smiles to see him crawling between the flannel sheets, and heads straight for the bathroom.

She exits, teeth brushed and hair let down, barefoot in a simple white chemise. She keeps one arm crossed over her middle nervously as she slowly moves to the bed.

Doc's already snuggled into the flannel sheets and under the blankets when he hears her walk out of the bathroom, and he lifts his eyes...

(He looks her over, once, because he's a man and he can't help it since she's absolutely beautiful with her hair down and her feet bare, moving towards him.)

"You...are so beautiful," he says quietly, before he pulls the sheets back after blinking a few times once she walks closer, to the bedside. "C'mere, though, I know that floor ain't all that warm, your toes must be freezin'," he tells her, patting the space beside him on the mattress.

Her cheeks redden with the compliment, and she nods, a shy little smile on her face as she sits on the edge of the bed and easily swings her legs up and under the covers.

She settles herself next to him, not quite close enough to touch just yet, as she adjusts to the warmth of the flannel sheets and the way her heart is absolutely pounding against her ribcage just from being so close to him like this.

"Thank you."

Doc shifts (it's difficult to not make this awkward but he's going to try his damn hardest to make her comfortable) on the bed until he's settled on back, blankets tucked in close around him.

The arm closest to her is stretched out, offering her a place to curl into his side if she wants to.

"You're very welcome."

Her eyes flick from his open embrace, up to meet his eyes. She holds his gaze for a brief moment before shifting, slowly, slowly, moving her body against his.

Her little fists are curled into his side, legs bent and knees at his thigh, her head cradled in the nook of his arm.

"How's that?" she whispers, smile only mildly devious behind the nervousness still lingering on her features. "Warmer?"

"Much warmer."

Doc runs a hand over her hair, gently, before he leans down and kisses her forehead, as he adjusts the blankets up around them both. "Thank you."

If he was being completely honest, he'd tell her that the fact that he's been alone for the last week on the trail is half of the reason he's asking her to stay, in addition to still being cold. Something in his chest can't vocalize that, however, so he'll have to settle for just being cold.

He idly traces his thumb over her shoulderblade in a random pattern for a moment, before he shifts against and gets comfortable with a small sigh, closing his eyes and nuzzling his head back into the pillow beneath it. Since he's actually tired, it won't be too long until he falls asleep.

But before he does:

"I normally don't snore, but if I start, cause m'cold, y'go ahead and wake my ass up and tell me t'knock it off, y'hear?"

Edited 2008-12-11 09:36 (UTC)

She starts to laugh, quietly at first, but it grows a little until her shoulders are shaking somewhat and she has to bury her face into his shoulder to quiet her laughter.

Her arm curls around his middle in an embrace, fingertips at his spine when all is said and done.

"Snoring? You're worried about snoring?"

Of all the ridiculous, out-of-the-blue, random things to say right here, right now...

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