Late Night Shifts


Jaya.jpg Jonavan.jpg

Date: Oct. 29, 2010
Location: Infirmary, EW
Synopsis: Jaya stops by to tell Jonavan she's going on a trip and will be needing supplies. Then she helps him sleep through the rest of his late night shift.
Rating: PG-13
Logger: Jaya

Even when the infirmary is blessedly quiet and patient-less, someone's got to keep an eye on things. Jonavan's pulled the late shift again, preferable to an early morning start in his mind because there's a good chance he can sleep through at least part of it. And that's just what he's doing, dozing off in the light of a half-hooded glow on a cot he's claimed near the back.

At this time of night - at any time of the day, really - one usually wouldn't find the Bitran barkeep anywhere near the infirmary. Whatever cuts or ailments she gets is usually treated on its own by her - which is probably a good reason why the scar running down the side of her face looks like it had healed entirely too wrong from the jump. All the same, Jaya's here, pausing on the threshold with stiff lips as she takes in the scene before her. Luckily there is no patients about - it's possible the woman's paranoid that whatever they got might get transferred onto her. The holdless and their notions. With Shijan sidling in to appear beside her, the pair slowly move as one further into the infirmary with the former giving the room her heavy scrutiny. She finds the dozing Jonavan once she's far in, the beginnings of a smile touching her lips before she shoots Shijan a look towards the entrance to signal for him to wait for her there. She had nothing to fear in the place, after all. Then she closes the distance silently towards the cot and leans over Jonavan's prone form - her face very close to his with only her breathing to disturb the air. Should the healer wake at this moment, he would be in for a shock to find someone far within his personal space, watching him intently.

A paranoia Jonavan would probably delight in feeding with stories of disfiguring air-born infections and epidemics, half of it exaggerated for the reaction. Tonight, though, there's not even a cough or cold to fear, and the place is kept spotless to minimize those potential risks. Jonavan is probably the most untidy thing there, with boots kicked off beside the glow and the trim sheets of his cot disarrayed though he lies on top. The healer catnaps more than sleeps, and although Shijan and Jaya are too quiet to wake him immediately, he does begin to stir. With Jaya leaning in close and the flurry of her breath, his shoulder twitches and then he opens his eyes, startling immediately after. A moment later and he releases the breath he had sucked in. "Fuck."

Just as well that the healer might not delight in scaring a slightly-crazed barkeep from the lands. Jaya doesn’t move when Jonavan starts, staring into his opened eyes and only choosing to let the crooked smirk that’s been threatening to break her mask of calm come forth at the curse. “I might make a Bitran of you yet, Journeyman,” she drawls low in her husky voice, keeping her face close to his and not seeming to notice or care that she had, indeed, given him a scare. Her back arching as she shifts something that’s probably out of his line of vision, “Worried that I might knife you?” she puts the question low to him then, keeping her voice level as the smile turns just a bit predatory. “It is only me and my guard here, shuga.” Beat. “And you’re all alone,” she feels the need to remind him, her eyes never leaving his now that she has his attention.

"Wasn't aware you were trying." Jonavan stifles a yawn, scrunching up half his face in the effort. "Is hovering over people in their beds to freak them out a rite of passage then?" He pushes back and pulls himself up to sitting to put him on a more even level with Jaya, palms against the mattress. "Let me guess - you pass if you wake up before you're knifed." His gaze lingers, attention indeed fully focused on Jaya, before he glances past, beyond her shoulder, at the mention of her guard. "Mm, looks like it," he confirms. "Should I be worried?"

“Wasn’t sure if you were asleep,” is Jaya’s comeback, the woman staying deliberately in the man’s personal space. Then he’s level with her and the scarred faced woman leans back a bit at his next comment. Maintaining that straight expression despite the lips twitching a bit to hide the smile, “I haven’t heard any of the victors complain,” she drawls on being knifed, sliding down to sit on his cot. “Of course, they’re dead.” Pause. “And you should be worried, but I think I like you too much to knife you,” she decides, finally leaning away and giving Jonavan back some of his personal space. Looking around the infirmary expressively, “In fact, I didn’t even steal anything,” she adds too lightly. “Though, if you don’t trust me, you might want to go check your supplies just in case. Serves you right for sleeping on the job, shuga.” There’s a wink and the straight face melts away into that lopsided grin.

"I'll try not to get on your bad side." Jonavan makes no further movement to achieve distance now that he's sitting upright, but reaches around to fold the pillow in half so it can serve as a prop against his lower back. He leans back, more comfortably, and turns a look on Jaya at her remark on not stealing; it has a hint of amusement though he forbears comment. Instead he responds to the crack about sleeping on the job, noting, "Most people make more noise when they come in. Like, I don't know, a polite cough. Or a sick cough. Sometimes a moan."

“I moan and you’ll going to have to explain yourself to any fellow healers that should walk in,” Jaya notes back, turning on the cot once Jonavan leans back more relaxed. That doesn’t sound like it will be a sick moan, either, and he’s lucky that’s the tamest statement she’s making right now on that comment, too. The woman could be far more crass, and perhaps the look sent his way will convey that enough. Letting the banter off some as she touches his leg, “I’m going to be heading out for a bit,” she announces to him, dark eyes regarding him from where she sits.

No sooner settled back that Jonavan shifts forward like he were interested in putting that prediction to the test, but it's either a bluff or he's stilled by what Jaya says next. "Oh? Where to?" A question kept casual, curious. "Gone long?" For a bit, not in a bit, so he presumes a return.

When Jonavan shifts forward, Jaya makes a bold move in crawling up the cot, and the length of him – moving as if to lay comfortably beside him. She might not have stolen any infirmary goods, but she’s apparently looking to steal his cot – or some of it. She’ll get settled beside him, patting the pillow he was laying against in a beckon before answering. “Telgar,” she says shortly, stretching her body languidly with her arms moving to cradle her head with them. “Won’t be gone for long, should I live,” she adds this bit with just a touch of non-chalance. Regarding him now, “A good friend of mine’s been beaten down, in my name,” she explains, some of the amusement and easiness draining from her wiry frame. “Need to make sure he’s still alive. Kinda also the reason for my visit, shuga.” She’ll pause here, studying what she could see of his expression for a response.

Jonavan cedes space without a fight, rolling onto his side and propping himself up with the closer elbow. The hypothetical bent to Jaya's remarks has his brows lifting in an unspoken question on danger and seriousness, softened to the one he does ask: "Planning to get into many life-or-death situations?" He sounds more collected and careful, not quite matching Jaya's nonchalance. "Hope your friend's alright." And, by extension, Jaya herself. The man is quiet for a moment, assessing Jaya in return; his look is one of thought. "If you run into trouble," he says then, breaking his silence, "my father's one of the healers at the Hold." Which is not really an invitation to go meeting his parents, but instead a calculation that she might need someone sympathetic if fights break out.

With the corner of her mouth lifting sardonically, “Not planning to, no,” Jaya answers that query, turning some to keep Jonavan in her sights. “Just. The same guy that roughed him up is the same one looking to rough me up permanently.” She doesn’t meet his eyes right away as she says it, noting his serious tone before she’s quick to add, “Ain’t going alone, though. Max practically insisted, and well, you know I can’t exactly leave Shijan back here.” Meeting his eyes then, “He comes, I’ll be ready for him,” she says this firmly, not bothering to hide the fact that the possibility of Vaput showing up – since he has already – is there. There’s a pause on the account of her friend, grimacing some as she can’t quite seem to hide the guilt she’s feeling for his present predicament. “You know about healing, so,” she begins to say, keeping her voice low despite the fact that there’s no one else in the room save for Shijan. “Thought I’d ask if there’s anything general I could carry up to him to help. I want to bring him down here to you, but, Keane’s not the type to be going down to Weyrs and all. The Hold, maybe,” she tacks on once he mentions his father, but there’s a note of uncertainty for Keane agreeing to go, “but just in case…”

Jonavan expected Shijan but not Max, and the latter's inclusion is registered with a faint twitch indicative of surprise. "Good you're not going alone," he yields while saying nothing of his remaining skepticism surrounding Jaya's claim to be ready for whomever it is that plagues her. He doesn't need to know about Vaput; his imagination supplies enough scenarios. He looks down and across at Jaya with a vague frown that clears some when her request is made, supplying something tangible to do. "Sure, can make you up a kit for him," the healer readily agrees. "Numbweed, redwort, stuff for stitches and bandages, that sort of thing, unless there's something specific you had in mind."

Jaya searches his eyes while he speaks, learning to notice most nuances in Jonavan’s demeanor on things not said. At that twitch, “Yeah, he’s going,” she confirms wryly. “Long story.” A story that she probably doesn’t want to go into right now, anyway, for she moves on and untangles a hand from behind her head to touch the side of his face if he allows. Leaning forward as if she was going to kiss him, “Thank you,” she says the two words in precise pronunciation, her eyes boring into his own. “A kit would be perfect. Don’t have anything specific in mind, so…anything you think that could help out injuries and whatnot. My informant didn’t give me any gory details,” she reveals she has in fact, an informant in her pocket – one that brings her the news from up north. “I’ll probably be gone a few days at most,” she isn’t certain, but it was better than being vague. “Suli will be running the bar while I’m gone in case you want to get some drinking and cards in.” Her amusement is there in that statement, though it’s muted due to the seriousness of the upcoming trip.

Jonavan has little to hide at this close range, though he is hardly the most expressive of men when conversation moves beyond friend - or not so friendly - ribbing. At the touch he almost smiles, this time a twitch at the side of his mouth. "You're welcome," he merely says, maintaining eye contact but growing slightly easier when afforded the opportunity to break into a bit of a wry grin. "Suli might throw me out if I try to go in there," he points out. "I have an inkling she isn't my biggest fan. I don't understand it."

Brushing his cheek absently with that crooked smile of hers full of roguish airs, “Suli doesn’t like many folks,” Jaya explains the last before her lingering touch drops away with a small sigh. “She hates Shijan and the beast manager, too, if that’s any consolation – though,” she adds wryly, her eyes full of mirth, “I haven’t heard her say anything about you, in particular. It’s just…well, Suli’s…” How to explain the Telgari barmaid? There’s a helpless shrug at that after a moment, the Bitran not able to come up with the proper words to explain away Suli. It might be clear that the barkeep does know something about Suli’s behavior in general, the hesitance there and gone in her voice, but she’s not yet voicing it. “Just don’t cause a fight?” she’s giving as her best advice in regards to the towering barmaid, sending Jonavan a pointed look. “She won’t throw you out, but don’t expect her to jump for joy if you make her a bubbly pie, either.” She leans back more then, her head close to his, “I should get going,” she says quietly, but she’s not moving. Her fingers move though, idly touching the front of his shirt, the woman not making any moves to leave the cot despite her announcing she should do so.

Jonavan and Suli have one thing in common: he doesn't like most people either. Instead of responding to one point, the healer leans in a touch closer as if to let Jaya in on a secret. "I think she's really a man." Only after she announces her intention to leave does Jonavan reciprocate, moving to touch her lightly at the waist; by and large, he is more comfortable with self-containment, and imminent departure acts as a bit of a push. "You'll want that kit, then." He doesn't stand up to go get it though, either.

“I dare you a whole bottle of whiskey to tell her that yourself,” Jaya’s saying to him on the account of her barmaid, her laughter a rather tired one before a yawn takes over. The moan’s a sleepy one at Jonavan mentioning him going to get that kit, the barkeep not bothering to point out that he wasn’t getting up either. Instead, she’ll practically move much closer to him, her forehead almost touching his, and she shifts her body to get more comfortable. After a long silence, “Morning,” is all she says on that kit – or perhaps in her leaving that cot anytime soon, that is. Not unless he’s tossing her and her bodyguard out, and Shijan’s taken to posting himself right outside the infirmary. “Give it to me in the morning. Rather sleep here.” Eyelids grow heavy, and the woman’s looking close to catching sleep herself next to him.

"I thought you said no fights." Jonavan isn't so sure on his odds up against Suli or even if he cares to find out, even for a bottle of whisky. Jaya's requested delay prompts him to lever himself up enough to cast an eye around for Shijan and assess the situation. With him at the entrance there's plenty of warning should any incomers need the infirmary, so after a moment's thought Jonavan considers it appropriate to lie back down, careful with the lack of space. "Alright," he agrees. "I haven't got much longer anyway; someone'll come in for an early shift." With Jaya shifting closer he'll put his arm around her properly, which is hardly conducive to kicking her out.

“I’ll allow one fight if you tell her she’s a man,” Jaya amends wryly to his question, the lazy smirk full of mischief. Some friend she is! “She’ll beat you good, though, unless you manage to run out of there before the comment even registers. She isn’t that quick to throw a blow.” Yeah. Jonavan can believe that if he wants to. When the healer moves to check to see where Shijan had gone, a shadow does fall near the entrance to suggest the man is very close by. Jaya doesn’t seem to be worry about it in either case, the smirk turning into something less mischievous once he settles down close beside her and puts his arm around her. Her hand steals up to his middle and settles there, the yawn that threatens being more contained. “Good,” is her short and simple response – there’s hardly much pillow talk with this one, the barkeep’s eyes already closing once her head settles against his chest.

Jonavan says a lot of aggravating, offensive things on purpose, but it seems that even he'll draw a line somewhere. Like at personal safety. "I like my face intact." Beyond that he is quiet also and before long half-asleep. An edge of alertness remains should anyone come looking for help, but thankfully the late hours of the night generate no further disruptions until the time comes to nudge Jaya awake, find the medical supplies promised, and retire.

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