tampered | Log; Ongoing

Current Location: building 8, #10

Log; Ongoing

When; February 21
Rating; PG for the awkward and Faye's language
Characters; Alfons (

opfern) and Faye (

glock30)
Summary; After this conversation, Alfons makes bacon and Faye makes some comments and there is a lot of awkward. And hangover remedies.
Log;

Even with the door to the kitchen closed, Faye could still smell the bacon that Alfons was cooking. The unmistakable scent normally would have had her drooling--after all, it wasn't like she'd had bacon any time in the recent past--but now it only served to make her head and stomach feel worse, if that was possible. When she shut her eyes, the world did a strange sliding motion that made her feel as if she were rolling off the couch, so she kept them open, fixed on the ceiling, wondering why Alfons thought it was necessary to wear an apron.

That thought alone was enough to make her snicker.

His little hangover remedy had been just as disgusting as he'd said it was. Better than a Prairie Oyster by far, but Alfons' little concoction had the kind of taste that made it impossible to want to know what was in it. She was still waiting for it to kick in. Just thinking about drinking it again made her rolling stomach do a back-flip. Or maybe that was the hunger? Hmm...

"You still alive in there, kid?" she managed to call, sounding more like a croak than anything.

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The way Faye's voice grated made Alfons cover his mouth and laugh a little, though that quickly dissolved into a coughing fit for a moment. When it was over with, he called over his shoulder, "Almost! I decided to make some eggs, too... It seems strange to just have bacon by itself."

He'd just been dividing the dishes up when she had called out to him, so once that was complete, he pulled the apron off and folded it to leave it on the kitchen counter. With one plate held in a hand, he balanced the second plate on the same arm, allowing his free hand to grab some napkins and silverware. It hurt quite a bit, actually, but it had been a few days. He could handle something like this for a few minutes.

He backed into the kitchen door to open it, careful careful... "And I said it's Alfons," he corrected. "People keep calling me kid, here... I don't quite understand why."

The forks and napkins were set out, accompanied by two plates that had plenty of bacon, along with scrambled eggs that had a touch of green onions and cheese mixed in. "What do you want to drink? Water?"

Faye could hear him coughing from the other room, and she thought about getting up and seeing if he was at least still alive in there, she really did, but the couch was just too comfortable to pass up. She called back instead, "Are you sure you're alright? It sounds like there's going to be a lung on my floor in there!"

A moment later he'd come ass-backwards through the door, looking like a little waiter in her own little personal restaurant. There was something of a grimace on his face but Faye looked past it: if he wanted to bring it up then she would leave it to him to bring up. People didn't like unwanted guests digging around in their personal business. At least Faye didn't. Besides, food was much more interesting, and it looked damn good.

"Look, I'll call you whatever you want if you hand that over," she said with a smirk, getting into a sitting position. The blanket she'd had over her fell into a little puddle in her lap as she looked over everything. "Water would... probably be best right now," said Faye, leaning over to just inhale what real food smelled like.

"This looks really good," she went on, picking through some of the eggs with her fork. "Really good."

Alfons was trying to formulate a decent reply for her, but she was currently leaning over the coffee table, and, well...that 'shirt' didn't leave much to the imagination.

He stood there for a good fifteen seconds staring before he realized just what it was she had requested. "Water!" he choked out into his hand, quickly turning and scurrying back into the kitchen.

Alfons really wished she would dress more appropriately...

Sighing, he soon returned with two glasses of water, setting them down before taking a seat on the floor on the other side of the table. He couldn't really take using his right arm for even another minute, so he let it rest a bit on the table's edge, hoping she wouldn't be insulted by the lack of manners.

Faye was aware by degrees that he was staring at her and what he was staring at. It took her a minute to figure it out since she was mostly concentrating on how to get the maximum amount of egg into her mouth without hurling, but when she did she had no idea what to say or do.

Normally this kind of thing wasn't a problem. Faye was used to men oggling and pinching various exposed pieces of skin, and she was plenty used to dealing with it too, but she couldn't just stand up and punch Alfons in the face. Especially when he'd made her all this food and the hangover junk and cleaned her apartment. So she was actually a little relieved when he turned and fled into the kitchen and Faye could pick at her eggs and try to figure out what to do about her cleavage, and, granted, it wasn't much.

When he came back, Faye took a long swallow of water to try and get rid of the awkward, dry feeling in her throat while she thought of something to say. She noticed that he favored his right arm. Perfect. Leaning forward as if to examine it, she asked, "What happened to your arm? You're babying it."

Alfons had decided that the best way to deal with Faye was to not look anywhere below her face if he could help himself. So he calmly nibbled on his bacon until she leaned over and asked her question, and in the process of glancing up from his food, he got another eyeful.

Cheeks red, he cleared his throat and remembered to quickly avert his eyes this time, and sat back. "Oh... Is it so obvious? Just a small injury I got from that rather violent curse day. It's doing better... I normally wear a sling, but that isn't very productive with cooking."

Watching his face flush bright red for the umpteenth time, Faye resolutely started looking around for her sweater. She hadn't seen it since the other day on the roof, and though it was a little worse for wear it was probably better than nothing as far as Alfons was concerned.

Still rooting around when he answered her, she took a moment to pause and snort, saying, "A little. But don't worry, I'm used to see that kind of thing. Still, it doesn't seem like a small injury. I guess it depends on your definition of small." She stopped talking long enough to shovel bacon and eggs into her mouth and had barely finished swallowing when she pointed out, "Well, hey, you aren't cooking now, are you?"

Alfons shrugged a bit and offered a light smile. "Well, it looked worse at the time than it really was. Certainly not enough to kill me. It just seems like guns don't much have a liking for me?"

Stabbing a piece of egg, he chewed and swallowed before sighing at her words. She was right... And if she already knew, he supposed there was no harm in it. So, he tentatively set his fork down and stood up to wander back into the kitchen, digging through the tote bag he liked to carry his things around in.

The sling took a minute to adjust until his arm was as comfortable as it was going to get. It helped take the pressure off, at least, and let it rest more. It was a bit embarrassing to wear, but if Edward could run around with prosthetics, then Alfons could stand to have something support his arm.

Back out in the living room, he sunk back down in front of the plate, keeping a solid eye on his food as he began eating again.

Faye smirked and drank a bit of water to soothe her throat before saying, "For you? I don't think guns have much of a liking for most people. Or at least the people holding them don't." She watched him eat for a moment, inadvertently realizing how much he looked like a child, despite all his statements that intended otherwise.

When he got up to go get that sling of his, a small part of her felt bad that he'd already seen the worst of the City in such a short amount of time, but she tried to mask it with her amusement at his still-red face. "This place isn't always like that, you know," she went on, eating a bit of egg. "Sometimes it's not so bad." Faye watched him adjust the sling and though he didn't seem all that comfortable wearing it, she knew better than to think it wasn't a much better position for that arm itself. "Not so bad now, is it?" she asked, narrowing her eyes pleasantly.

Alfons smiled again and nodded. "Well, it's certainly better than the alternative!" Perhaps. As a scientist, he had believed when you died...you just died. Your body rotted, and you were no more.

Was this really better than that?

With a sigh, he sat back and picked up another strip of bacon to chew on, turning his gaze towards a window. "How are you feeling, Miss Valentine? Is the headache easing up?"

Faye silently agreed to an extent. She didn't know firsthand what being dead in the City was like. A thought struck her and she asked, "Sorry if I'm overstepping any bounds here, but are you saying you died and that's how you ended up here?

Faye cocked an eyebrow and put her fork down on her mostly-empty plate, pulling the blanket up to her shoulders as she leaned back against the couch. "It's better," she nodded. "It might be a little while before it's completely gone, all things considered, but whatever that stuff was that you gave me seems to be doing the trick."

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Log; Ongoing

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