tampered | Log [In progress]

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Log [In progress]

When; May 4, 2008
Rating; PG-13 (I always go with this to be safe)
Characters; Waverly and Mat
Summary; Waverly returns from her errands to a hung over Mat. (The muns aren't quite sure how this is going to go. Hell, the muses aren't sure how it's going to go.)
Log;

She wasn't trying to hide anything. It was probably the twelfth time she'd told herself this. It was a complete lie. She knew she was hiding as much as she could. The words had slipped out without her even thinking. Being forced, it was something that was a natural unpleasantness by now. Or had been.

All the forced companions and wandering hands had stopped many years ago. None of that had occurred since she left that life and betrayed everyone. Rachel, she'd probably ruined Rachael's life. Who knew what her father had done to her. She tried not to think about what had happened to those she left at home, but sometimes it crossed her mind. Sometimes in the dreams ...

She pushed open the door, her sleeves looking horribly dingy as well as the rest of her. Hair scattered out of her ponytail and face darkened by unidentifiable dirt. It had been a long day, and she didn't expect it to be over. Not after what she had said. She picked the door closed with her foot and set what she carried down, resting her body against the door to take in a few calming breaths.

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She would be surprised at what he remembered eating without eating. What he remembered in general without doing. "It was good. Much better than anything that would have been fed to me back home."

And that was the complete truth.

"Then I have to be a bit worried about what you were being fed back there." She let out a light chuckle. What she had made for him hadn't been anything special. It was actually a bit on the bitter side actually. Part of why it worked as it did.

"Have you eaten at all?"

"No. And yes I know that I should." He'd heard that bit of advice many times before. The worse part was that it was good advice.

"Were you planning on making me something?"

She nodded, leaning in and kissing him lightly. "That I do." She pushed a little so he would let her up. Nothing too heavy, just light so there was something in his stomach, too much and he'd probably vomit.

He let her get up but followed after her. Now that he was feeling a bit better, he was also in a better mood. Besides that, he had fun around Waverly. "And what are you going to make?"

"Bat's blood and oxen liver." She said the words so casually that you could almost believe that she was going to make it. Lucky for him she hadn't made something like that in almost a year now.

"Sounds like a flaming disaster." He shook his head at the thought. He was just going to hope she wasn't serious about that. "Got any other ideas?"

"Mmmmm." She thought about it as she started water on to boil. Broth with a little stock in it should work ... if she could figure out how to do it. She reached down to grab the receipt book that she had bought months back and flipped through. "What about raw spleen and sangria?"

The worst part about that suggestion was that he was sure he remembered eating something similar. "Not a good idea either." He looked over her shoulder at the book curious to see what she was really making.

They were really some light receipts, nothing too heavy, but something he could digest. "Well, there's always the staple. The blood of your enemies." Getting Lanfear's blood would be a bit hard though.

"Never been one for that." He pointed to something on the page. "That looks like something I ate when I was a boy though. One of my sisters made if for me."

She nodded. Then she'd try her hand at it. "I doubt it will taste anything like it." That she could promise. She, after all, wasn't all that good at cooking. "You had sisters?" She glanced back, asking. She really never learned much about him before all this. In fact, it scared her to realize that he knew more about her then she about him.

He smiled as he nodded. "I do. Two of them actually. They enjoyed telling the adults on me to get me into trouble." And for some reason he missed that. Light, he hoped they were alright.

She couldn't help smiling at the thought. "They must have had a lot to tell." She couldn't imagine he was ever a properly good child. Hellion seemed more his forte.

"I'm not going to lie and say that there wasn't. I had my good share of things for them to run to adults about." Which was true. He had a very long list of things. And things he'd gotten Rand and Perrin into as well. Grinning, he leaned on the counter as he watched her.

"I wouldn't have believed you if you had said you were a saint." Even she had gotten into heaps of trouble. Most of it dealt with things that apparently were normal for children to do, but it had been something she had not been allowed to do.

She paused in her chopping and looked back at him. "You don't look very abashed about your behavior as a child." She was only teasing, but she was happy to see that whatever it was like, he had things to smile about from it.

"The lumps I got for my actions were painful but my pranks were worth it. Especially the looks on people's faces." He laughed quietly and picked up some fruit in a bowl. Juggling them, he continued.

"I was a bloody troublemaker. No point in denying it or being ashamed of it."

She glanced over, trying not to laugh. Really, was? She didn't think was was quite the proper word he needed to use there. "You still are I'm sure." Moving back to her task at hand she continued, working hard at trying not to ruin what she was cooking. "I do believe I am the angelic part of this pairing, damning and all." She wasn't completely serious, joking ... mostly.

He was still grinning as he made the fruit fly in various patterns. It was amazing how not thinking about a hangover helped to clear it up. "I have my moments. But I wouldn't call you innocent either."

"That so?" She hadn't remembered doing anything too bad since she had met him. No curses making her kill maim or seduce. No dolls, no past ghosts or full truth. He knew nothing of her betrayal or her own suicide.

Still, she knew she was no angel. She was the servant of the devil after all. Someone like that could never be anywhere near angelic. Even without it, she was a bit of a terror if she let it slip and show her true face.

"It is." He'd seen plenty of women in his life. Plenty. And he could tell when there was more to one than she let on.

He wouldn't call her something more bad either. Just a touch more that she usually didn't show people. "And I think you're addicted to kisses too."

She smirked slightly. That sounded like a challenge. "I can stop whenever I want." Of course, with the words out of both their mouths, she took it as war. There would be no kissing ... at least ... for a little while.

He shook his head. "I never said you should stop. It was just an observation." The fruit stopped flying and he placed them back in the bowl. Standing behind her, he rested his hands on her hips then leaned in to kiss the back of her neck.

That was allowed, but he would get no kisses from her, and no reactions either. She simply kept working as if he'd done nothing. "Oh no, you've already said so, and thus the challenge is set." She was competitive by nature. When Dorian made her sculptures look like bent tableware she fumed and worked twice as hard - even if she was happy for how wonderful he was and took nothing out on him. She was still one to push herself. This was one of those competitive times. Mat had thrown the verbal gauntlet down and now she would respond.

He blinked, stared, then blinked again. Challenge? "When did a bloody challenge start?" He certainly didn't remember issuing one. Even thinking back he couldn't recall doing it. What had happened here? "Light...what are you talking about? I didn't set a flaming challenge."

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