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Caritas, Sunday

Anders's last shift, and he was feeling a little bit -- okay, a lot wibbly and sentimental about the whole thing as he came in tonight. He thought he'd even miss Tino's olive-throwing.

And then a hail of olives came flying at him, thereby proving that Tino had actually gone ahead and figured out how to construct an olive trebuchet . . . and he wasn't so sure about missing that bit any more.

At least he had the consolation of making Tino clean up the mess.

[OOC: Up a bit early since I'm hitting the road home now! Will pick up tags from rest stops and such, and SP into tomorrow as needed -- yay for last-minute unplanned trips?]

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"Yeah, we'll be cutting out soon ourselves," she nodded. "We'd planned on leaving last week but then Johnny had to be a dork."

Anders's jaw, still with its fading bruises, twitched. "Yeah, don't remind me."

Isabel raised an eyebrow and stared at his jaw. "Wrestling accident?"

"He caught me off guard," Anders muttered. "Normally would be able to dodge that real easy."

"Dumbass," she said fondly. But it didn't stop the eye roll. "He was dumb. I agree. But I think Savannah's capable of taking care of him herself."

"Yeah, but will she? She's too head over heels to -- to --" Anders faltered. "I don't really have room to talk here, do I? I just . . . after what happened with the Source and all, I just got twitchy. If that even makes sense."

Isabel thought about it for a moment and nodded. "Kind of. But Johnny's not evil. He's just being a macho dumbass who had a stupid idea on how to keep her safe."

Anders sighed. "Yeah. I just didn't want to let her end up having something happen to her like what happened to me. Which doesn't make me any better, I guess."

"You're heart's in the right place. And you're not going to wrestle again are you?" she asked.

""Considering the look on Savannah's face when she figured out what I'd been up to?" He grimaced and shook his head. "Doubt it."

Isabel snickered. "Or she'd kick your ass. I get that."

"Can I just say how grateful I am that Wyatt's never tried anything that dumb?"

Anders snorted a laugh. "Yeah, so am I. Because if he did I'd have to try and kick his ass, and I know I'd get the short end of that stick."

"Like I'd actually leave anything for you to kick?" she grinned.

"Aw, come on," Anders protested, chuckling. "What are little brothers for?"

"Bringing me ice cream after I've kicked the butt of the boyfriend for being stupid," Isabel replied.

A pause.

"Or bringing me ice cream just because." She wouldn't want to miss out on any sort of frozen goodness.

"And whining at you about how I wanted to help," Anders pointed out. "I'd rather bring you the ice cream without having ass-kicking reasons, though."

"Anytime you want," she told him. "Even if it involves having your boyfriend shimmer you to Vegas."

"Oh, Vegas," Anders said, laying the nostalgic tone on pretty thick. "The first time I woke up with him snuggling me was there."

"Yeah? And did he flail like hell when he woke up?" Because really, Bel? Snuggling back then?

"How drunk were you the night before?"

"Probably a good bit," Anders replied. "But we were both in the right hotel room and everything, so it wasn't completely by accident."

He smirked. "Gods, the flailing was hilarious."

"I can only imagine," she chuckled. "Too bad you didn't get pictures."

"You guys are going to have to come visit me. I'm insisting."

Anders snorted. "Twist my arm, why don't you?" he asked, and got a goofy, faraway look in his eyes. "It was so frakkin' cute back then, when he couldn't deal with having a thing for me, and all the spazzing."

"This is me. Twisting."

She hadn't moved from her seat.

"He was so far out on the river denial he was practically in the ocean."

"This is me, going ow ow ow stop that ow I'll do whatever you want," Anders deadpanned, nothing about his expression or posture even remotely hinting at discomfort. Not even a momentary tickle.

"Just so we understand each other," Isabel said, reaching over to give his hand a squeeze.

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Caritas, Sunday

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