corbin_icon.gif daphne_icon.gif

Scene Title Distraction
Synopsis Daphne seeks such from Corbin, who is more than willing to provide it.
Date March 4, 2010

Corbin's Apartment

The best part of watching a DVD with a new fling is the snuggling. Curled up on the couch with Corbin, Daphne lies with her head on his chest, listening to him breathe, and enjoying the sound of his laugh echoing through his chest beneath her head. But what should be a content, peaceful night in is slowly going south for the speedster. A headache has been niggling somewhere at the back of her skull since they ate dinner, and it's now moved to her eyes, which ache just from trying to follow the motions on the screen in front of them.

She wouldn't think much of it, but after taking the sweaty, coughed-upon hand of the pint-sized clairvoyant earlier, she saw the news about the new "Evo-flu." She didn't think much about Molly at that time, but watching what was supposed to be a comedy, she failed to laugh even at the funniest bits, her mind swirling with the words of the newscast: depowering… death… serious illness… She tries to push it out of her mind. She shifts against Corbin, wincing a little at the pain in her head. It's just a headache, she tells herself.

Snuggles are a definite bonus for flings. Corbin keeps an arm around her, leaning his head back against the high cushions of his couch, as the second DVD of the night continues on. A sports movie, of all things, hockey. It's the movie about the 1980 Olympic victory over Russia. Apparently he likes sports movies. When asked, he explained the reason why— it was because they're almost always uplifting. And often good music, too! Next time they'll probably watch a football movie, but for now… Hockey.

Arm nestled around her, his hand reaches up to touch her hair, not noticing if she's in any amount of pain. She's good at trying to ignore it, and he's not trying to notice, apparently. Wishful thinking. Such a plague wouldn't actually affect her, right? It's not that wide spread… or so he'd hope. "I didn't realize how long the movie was," he says, as the credits start rolling, glancing toward the clock. "The curfew is still in effect, maybe you should just… stay the night."

Is this a come on? "Uh— so you don't get arrested…"

"Like anyone arresting for curfew would catch me," Daphne says with a chuckle. But the apartment is warm and cozy and running across the city in frigid weather — even if she'd only be outside for a couple of minutes — is not as inviting as staying in his warm embrace. The fact that staying is inviting is pushed aside. They're just friends who happen to find the other attractive, right?

"But staying is … sure, if it's all right with you," she manages a little awkwardly. It's so much easier to go for the joke. "You don't snore, do you?" she adds, as if having second thoughts, her eyes narrowed suspiciously — she may feel like hell warmed over but she's trying not to show it. She lifts her chin up, lips brushing the underside of his scruffy jawline. At least he's not evolved, if she is sick, that logical part of her brain whispers.

"I figured you'd have a difficult time running on ice…" Or at least stopping? Corbin knows she could likely avoid anyone who would arrest her, but it's also just nice to invite her over in a subtle way… it doesn't sound nearly as sleezy if he makes it sound like it's out of concern? "I don't snore— well, not more than most people do. I breathe… And it's sometimes loud, but… I've never had complaints." He's also not had many bed partners in the last few years…

But that's neither here nor there.

"I promise to cook you breakfast?" he offers with a lopsided grin, reaching to to rub his nose as if it itches a little.

"Ice is … not optimal, true," Daphne says with a grin. "And I suppose loud breathing is allowed. No pun intended." She tips her head up to kiss him softly. "What will you cook me for breakfast?" she asks curiously. "I don't like eggs," she warns, one hand moving up to stroke his hair back as she leans her head on the arm of the couch, dark eyes looking up into his blue. Her cheeks are a little pink, spots of color in the center of each. "Do you have some Tylenol, by the way? Before we go to … sleep."

"No eggs, okay… waffles?" Corbin asks, trying to think of an alternative, as he begins to sit up enough to get off the couch, pausing at the mention of wanting some Tylenol. "You have a headache?" Just his luck, wouldn't you know it! It's not as if she's asking as a deterent, though… she's just… "We can just sleep. It's not like this is the last time we'll be going out," he says, leaning back in to return the kiss she gave him, before walking toward the kitchen to pull down a bottle of pills, and pour a glass of water.

"It's just … eye strain, I think. I don't normally watch two movies in a row," Daphne says. Why not? It could be — it's as likely as getting sick from touching someone's hand just hours ago, isn't it? She opens her mouth to tell him about meeting Molly, but that reminds her about what she heard on the news, and she closes her mouth, pushing the thoughts out of her head again. She stands up to follow him into the kitchen, smiling at his gentlemanliness. "Thanks." She opens the bottle, shaking out three pills and tosses them in her mouth. A hand moves to the glass, bringing it up quickly to wash down the pills. That done, she brings her arms up to his shoulders, stepping closer to tug him down for another kiss. Maybe she just needs something to distract her.

"Well, if you're not going to use eyestrain as a deterent…" Corbin says, that silly grin returning as he holds her close, the kiss having been returned. "You must really like me," he adds, beginning to push her toward the one room in the house he keeps forgetting to clean when she visits. She's probably not going to notice an unmade bed, though, right? Well, she wanted a distraction, and he'll try to distract her from that, too. Until they happen to fall asleep at least.

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