Locked.

[h_hollister]

After her chat with Severus and Dez earlier, Hips gets out her hanging bag. She hasn't used it in weeks, due to drama and running away and all that.

And it feels good.

It hurts, too. She's let things slide. So muscles protest at the punches being thrown, but she works through it.

She's worked too hard to let herself go, now.

The walkman that Perry gave her for Christmas is in use, with upbeat, powerful, happy music blaring in her ears.

Each punch is tension released, a worry let go of. Personal. Not the same as important.

Jerusalem? Not personal. Not really important, either. Just a job.

Severus? Getting steadily better, and that's what's important.

Rimmer? Personal. Not important.

Wade? Personal. Not important.

Thunder? Personal. Deeply so. Not important. Not to anybody else but her. And she knows that eventually this open ended THING between them will be resolved, one way or the other. Preferably with both of them ending up happy.

She's sweating, now, and her breathing rate is high and deep.

Each punch is a little bit of fear gone.

Comments

[h-hollister.livejournal.com]

She sinks onto her chair, backwards, resting her chin on the back of her hands. "I never thought it was selfless. Falling for you was an incredibly selfish thing. But, yeah, I was hoping we could help each other. And, yes, you were the first to treat me with something resembling respect. So when it went sour, it hurt me like hell. Which you absolutely did do on purpose. You said it yourself. You wanted to get me unhooked from you. I'm not saying you got a kick out of it. But it wasn't about validation. If I was looking for validation, I'd have picked somebody like... god, I don't know. Greg Sanders. Piotr Rasputin. Guys who'd have absolutely no hesitations about boosting my ego. But I chose you because I see in you the exact same thing you see in me. I like who you are and what you should be, too, you know. When you're not swallowed up in that same trap. The degrees differ, the reasons differ, but that's what it boils down to."

She glances at his swords, which are hanging over her headboard. They look weirdly out of place next to the print of Sunday Afternoon on the Isle of La Grande Jatte a few feet to the right.

"Nobody is pushing me into anything. I love who I love. My feelings, my loyalty... I'm still new at it, yeah. I lived like the goddamn Borg queen for twenty seven years. Nothing meant anything to me. And now I'm letting people in, letting them care, letting myself care. I know I've made mistakes. But I also know that I'm perfectly valid in feeling the way I do. Without having to hear it from somebody else. I'm not choosing failure any more."

A little smile.

"Mission accomplished, Wade. And, no, no murder sprees. I'm not her."

[wadewilson.livejournal.com]

"You didn't pick those chumps because you still had yourself chained to me. Don't even try to tell me you weren't psycho on me."

Then he shakes his head. "But whatever, you're done with me, and that's all for the best. I'm sorry I got stompy in the closet, and I'm sorry I shoved you at Captain Emo. I didn't realize how much of a complete tool he was. I thought he only LOOKED the part."

[h-hollister.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I was. And that sucked and I'm sorry. But in my own defense, I had a little bit of help on the 'psycho' part. The Game fucked with my brain. Physically, I mean. Eiko called it a mnemonic schism or something. I'm getting it fixed here real soon. Don't worry, you won't have to come in after me this time."

Puff puff.

"And he's not a tool. He's an alien stuck in a body that's completely different than what he's used to. How would you feel if you turned into a... god, what are those things called again? Skrull? You'd be totally lost, too, and you know it. He's used to having a cybernetic brain, not a human one. Which I kept forgetting. And I'm paying for that mistake now. But you don't have to be sorry about it. I could have walked away. I didn't."

Puff puff.

"And I'm still mad as fuck at you. You used me. And then when I didn't react the way you expected, you panicked. You goddamn well better not treat Terry like that, is all I have to say. She's my friend, and I won't have you hurting her the way you did to me."

[wadewilson.livejournal.com]

"Get off that high horse right now."

The voice is cold again.

"I announced I wanted to fuck for a week, and you took me up on it. And if you're trying to imply everything else was usery, fuck off, I never told you it was going to be anything else. I told you the score straight up. You're the one who kept insisting it was true magic love. And if you think I'm gonna treat the pie-in-the-sky girl that I passed up a happenin' psychotic relationship with you for with anything other than a respect that's gonna border on being too high a pedestal, think again."

[h-hollister.livejournal.com]

She just raises an eyebrow at him. "Bullshit. Come off it yourself, Wilson. You've got enough issues to make Newsweek jealous. If you honestly think pie-in-the-sky Theresa Cassidy is gonna put up with that pedestal, you're going to be very disappointed. She's got needs and feelings, and she's not your goddamn therapist, nor is she an angel. You react to my issues that way? Well, she's got issues too. So don't you dare use them against her like you used mine against me."

Her voice isn't cold. Just calm.

"If you're trying to get a rise out of me, it's not going to work. I wasn't implying anything about what happened before. But if it bothered you so goddamn much, you could have just pushed me aside after the first time instead of fucking me silly repeatedly thereafter. But I'm goddamn great in the sack, I have it on pretty good authority, so you kept coming back for more. It takes two to tango, baby, or in this case horizontal mambo. You have a fifty percent share in this hot little mess, so own up to it and stop laying it all at my feet."