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Scorpion Honey, 4b/?
Date: 2012-04-29 01:59 am (UTC)“What’s that?”
“Whiskey.” She wet the rag and reached for Moore’s arm again. “I gotta sterilize that cut.”
Moore pulled her arm out of Cass’ hold, cradling it protectively against her chest. “I thought you were using a stim.”
“I said I’d do it without giving you tetanus. Now are you gonna hold still, or do I need to get FISTO to play nurse?” Moore decided not to ask what a ‘Fisto’ was, and she let Cass take her arm again. Cass smirked. “This is gonna hurt.”
It did, but Moore didn’t let herself whimper. Even drunk and bleeding in a dingy hotel room, she had her pride. Her eyes watered and she bit her lip bloody, but she didn’t make a sound.
Cass was impressed. “Last person I did that to screamed like a little bitch.” Cass took a swig straight from the whiskey bottle.
“You do this often?” Adrenaline and pain had cleared Moore’s mind, but the hazy effects of the alcohol were creeping back in.
“Only for people I like,” said Cass cheerily. She traded the bottle for a dirty leather bag, and began digging through it in search of a stimpak.
Moore watched silently as Cass found the stim and injected it just above the cut. The heady rush of the drug made Moore lean back against the headboard as the redhead dropped the spent needle on the ground and wrapped the wound with a yard of dirty linen bandages.
“These things don’t work as well if you’ve got booze in your system,” Cass said, reaching again for the bottle on the bedside table. “That’ll probably leave a scar.” The Colonel nodded, not really comprehending, just watching Cass’s lips as they wrapped around the neck of the bottle and took another long swallow.
Cass was pretty, Moore decided, in an abstract, masculine way. She was on the verge of saying so when the redhead set the bottle on the table and reached again for her leather bag. “By the way, you left your purse at the bar.”
She tossed the bag at Moore, and she made a wild grab for it. It slipped between her fingers and landed on the floor, its contents rolling in all directions. She swore and started to reach for it, but Cass planted a single hand on her shoulder and held her down.
“Stop moving. You’re gonna open that cut back up, and I don’t have any more clean bandages.”
Moore looked dubiously at the stained mass of grayish linen wound around her upper arm. “Were those ever clean?”
“Clean enough,” she said. “Are you going to stop tryin’ to sit up?”
Moore nodded, but Cass’ hand stayed resolutely on her shoulder. “I don’t believe you.”
“Let me prove it,” said Moore through clenched teeth.
“You’re not going to bite me again, are you?”
“I might.”