Crossover Crossroads (The Kell and Maille Story)

That for your Owie's

054: That for your owies

Except for that one quiet interlude on the balcony, Maille mused later, Kell had danced her around every floor and rollerbladed her over miles of course. They yelled a lot, till they were hoarse, and laughed a lot. He was very fun to be with, she realized, and he drew the attention of a lot of people. It wasn't just his looks, which in their present state were very conspicuous, but the energetic way he moved.

He started to take her home to Park City to her parents' house where she'd been staying the last two days and then thought better of it and took her to his house. It was easily past the wee hours and they were both tired.

Maille let herself in and went straight to her bathroom, straight to her shower. Completely unaware how comfortable she was in his home. Nor did she think about what to change into, or worry about Kell coming in the bathroom. She was showering in the dark anyway.

When she got out clean clothes awaited her, sweat shorts and a blue t-shirt. No underclothes this time, and she wondered if he had run out, or where the other stuff was he'd washed. She went into the laundry room and opened cupboards, but aside from extra soap and dryer sheets, there was nothing. Nor could she find Kell when she came out.

Maybe she'd been too assuming. Maybe...

"Kell?"

There was no answer. Her heart rate thudded in her breast solemnly. It dawned on her maybe she was imposing. Taking him too much for granted. She should go home now. She didn't live here. She didn't own the place. It wasn't really her bathroom.

But there had never been any indication that there was anyone else, and he'd made it perfectly clear that she was welcome in his home. She walked around the house in the dark, which wasn't very dark as the lights from the city never dimmed at night. She got a glass of water, stared out at the kennel and saw no movement.

Maybe he was upstairs showering. She listened at the foot of the stairs for water splashing and heard nothing. She crept up the stairs a bit and listened again. She thought she heard movement, but wasn't sure. She still had her glass of water in her hand. Maybe he'd gone to bed.

She'd spent the night Myndee died, lying flat out on the living room carpet with her feet in Kell's' face, completely wasted, but had studiously avoided spending the night with him otherwise. Their trampoline adventure was enough. She knew everybody had their limits. She scratched her arm where the stitches were, pulled the shorts down a bit and folded the waistband under to avoid it hitting her other itching places and then crept the rest of the way up the stairs.

It was dark, yet light-- in its seemingly outdoor inside environment. The shower wasn't on, but she could smell steam.

She was about to call his name again when a hand shot out and grabbed her ankle. Maille screamed and threw her glass of water, knocking the hand loose and dancing away from it down the stairs. Kell hurdled the stairs and laughing, grabbed her flying form and tackled her to the ground in the living room. She put up a fairly strong defense, but he pinned her neatly, sitting on her stomach carefully with her arms over her head.