Room 121, Thursday, lunchtime

[soldtoarmenians]

Xander, sitting at his desk and staring intelligently into space, occasionally tapping a finger against Jeremiah's tank, is trying to decide something very important.

Food?

Nap?

Food?

Nap?

__
[For the b-word-person. Sidling towards NWS]

Comments

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

Dripping wet and wearing nothing but underwear and gloves, Bridge knocks on Xander's door.

[soldtoarmenians]

Answering the door is a bit delayed by the requisite moment of eepitude as Xander jumps, his feet slide off the desk, and Jeremiah glares at him.

He does get there eventually, though.

And blinks.

And blinks.

And blinks.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Hi!" Bridge says brightly.

[soldtoarmenians]

"..."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"This is the part where you say 'hi' back," Bridge supplies helpfully. "And... let me in the room maybe?"

[soldtoarmenians]

"Hi, back. And front. And, uh. Pretty much everything." Xander's still "..."-ing, but he steps out of the way and lets Bridge through the door. Then shuts it very quickly behind him.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Oh. Yeah. We had to go swimming in class today and then Cal wouldn't give us our clothes back so... here I am." Bridge grins.

[soldtoarmenians]

Xander's not sure if he should yell at Callisto or thank her. Possibly both. "And suddenly I'm thinking lunch can wait."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"And I can't actually *tell* what you're thinking, at this moment, but if you're thinking what I'm thinking which is what I think you're thinking... yay."

[soldtoarmenians]

"I'm thinking the frog might be in need of some alone-time."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

Bridge nods.

[soldtoarmenians]

Xander returns from the bathroom sans frog and plus towel.

"You, ah. Look like you might be a little cold." Not that he doesn't have other warm-up ideas too.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"I had to walk aaaaaaaaaall the way back here from the beach." Bridge explains.

[soldtoarmenians]

"Ye-e.....essss," Xander says, and then there's a pause where he tries to remember what he was gonna say. "But not a group activity."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Nooo," Bridge says. "That's not really my kinda thing."

[soldtoarmenians]

Xander scrapes together enough presence of mind ...somehow... to sound casual when he says, "Yeah. I mean, four people max, for this kind of thing."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

Blink.

Blink.

"Buh?"

[soldtoarmenians]

Xander snorts. "Just checking to see if you were paying attention."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"I'm paying attention!" Bridge says defensively. And demonstrates what, exactly, he is currently paying attention to.

[soldtoarmenians]

"..."

...

"...what was the question?"

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"I dunno, it was your question in the first place! I think. Maybe."

[soldtoarmenians]

"Something about...uh." Forget about forgetting the question; remembering how to talk is hard enough. Remembering why he even wants to remember how talk is hard enough.

Oddly, the ability to snicker in his head and be twelve over the repetition of 'hard enough' in his thoughts, is not all that hard. It's one of the few things that isn't, though.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Please..." and there's really supposed to be a full sentence there. Really. But much like Xander, he's finding that speaking is hard and... other things are too.

[soldtoarmenians]

Xander's not telepathic. Seriously. Aside from any spells he's had put on him, there is nothing psychic, magic, alien, or remotely weir-- ...well, okay, weird, yes. But human.

Still, he's pretty sure 'Please shut up and do something' was a completely accurate reading of Bridge's mind just now. So he complies.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

Yep. Pretty damned accurate.

"Mmmguh," Bridge manages.