shatterverse | (no subject)

(no subject)

((set sometime after this roadtrip))

Lyssa was back in New York City. Not where she'd been planning on going back to. She was heading out to find the farm where she had thought she could be some help. Instead she was back where she'd started. Looking for something that may not even had come along with her. Even if it had it was very likely to be dying. That was the problem, it wasn't exactly a machine. Organics were curious things, this one probably more so because it had adapted to function with Lyssa. It had put up with her more interesting quirks of her personality that had been lost over a year in Cardiff with people who she had helped. Though one interesting little habit of hers had stayed. And that was the same as Jack's. She liked rooftops. No she loved rooftops. She was stood on top of a building then. Trying to think where the ship would be. She's just help out this Owen then be on her way again.

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"For right now, not..." He reaches with his good hand to poke at his broken finger. "...anything. I'm fairly sure that should grate."

"Give them time, I think you've confused them. See this." She pulled back her hair to show him her shoulder.

"That confused them. Scar runs down my arm."

"How'd you get that?" he asks absently, unbuttoning his shirt.

"It's where the weevil attacked me. I tried to patch myself up, the other you fixed me, but still, left that."

"Strange."

He's staring down at his own chest, the huge hideous scar of the entry wound.

Lyssa wants to poke it. "Okay you win."

Well, he let a girl he'd only just met poke it in canon...

"Does it look like it's getting smaller to you?"

So it's only right she asks then... "Can I?

"Possibly?"

"Can you... touch it?" He glances up with a wry grin. "Why not?"

"Yeah." She reaches out to him.

By way of encouragement, he even reaches to meet her hand and guide it to his chest.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." She laughs, finally touching him. "Oh that's..." She laughs again.

"Sort of squishy", Owen finishes helpfully. "I know."

"Yeah." She pulls her hand back. "That's messed up. You let everyone poke you?"

"Only the select few." He shrugs. "You, so far, and Martha... and a girl called Maggie, 'cause I wanted to prove I was dead."

"Oh I've met Martha. And seeing is believing or something."

"Martha's a good girl", he says with something between warm and wistful in his voice. "Gonna make a great doctor."

"She is a doctor when I met her, cept for her shouting at you we got along."

"Oh, she's qualified when I met her. Just hadn't been for long." That wry quirk of a grin appears again. "I probably deserved it."

"I'm biased, I say you didn't. I think I went so far to growl at her." She hid her face behind her hands.

Owen bursts out laughing.

When he stops, "So, you and me, were we...?"

"It's complicated. You don't want to hear." She's bright red and not looking at him.

"You know what? I really do."

His wound is getting smaller, but he's stopped paying attention.

She should have known.

"Fine. We've slept together twice a year ago, and since then well... we've been good friends..." There was a whole lot more but she wasn't willingly sharing that yet.

"Good friends." He looks at her consideringly. "First time I've managed that after sex. Almost."