darker_london | She's a Littleton... (Abby, Peter)

"Am I remembering correctly? Did I call you my bitch yesterday?"

Abby looked up from her paperwork to see her friend Peter watching her from her doorway. He looked slightly concerned, but she gave him a friendly, if tired smile and she nodded. "You might have, but it was friggin' adorable. How are you feeling today?"

"My shoulder feels like it got shot with a crossbow, strangely enough. And my head is throbbing like a teenager's...well anyway, you get the picture. But I'll deal." Peter moseyed over to her desk and he picked up one of Abby's stress balls. He tossed it in the air and caught it easily. "What about you?"

"Did you use that question about the bitch thing to try to come in here and psychoanalyse me!?" Abby asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Yes. I knew I called you my bitch." Peter grinned and he tossed the ball in the air and caught it again. "And apparently I told every single member of the nursing staff individually how awesome I am?"

"Thankfully, they all already knew that. But that still doesn't excuse you using my own tricks on me!" Abby jumped up and when Peter tossed the ball in the air again, she caught it and gave him a hard glare. "Still...you can sit down. I'll unload on you, Abby style."

Peter looked concerned then. "You're not going to hit me, are you?"

"You're such a girl," she scoffed, sounding much like her older brother. And then she pushed Peter into a chair and she took a seat across from him. "Thomas is all guilty about what happened when you rescued Spectre, which we all know isn't his fault. He won't listen to me because I locked him in a room and wouldn't let him go searching so it has to be you, Peter. You're the guiltmonger anyway. You have to talk to him."

"I...came here to talk to you actually," Peter said, looking olitely confused.

"Well that's what's bothering me," Abby replied easily. "And that's what you wanted to know right?"

Peter nodded. "Lavinia said you seemed off and she wanted to come herself, but she had to go see Adam and Mad Dog at the garage. Some...grease-related incident I'm too fragile to think about right now." And then Peter did his patented 'ew germies' shudder.

"You're a strong man, Peter," Abby grinned at him. She knew it was true, but sometimes he could be so prissy. "Will you talk to Thomas for me? And...maybe add in there that I was only trying to look out for him when I locked him in?"

"I'll tell him he shouldn't feel guilty about what happened with Adrian," Peter agreed. "I don't think I'm the one to tell him you're sorry for what happened though, Abigail." Peter had gone from being silly to being serious in a matter of seconds and Abby really admired him for that. "I think it would mean more coming from you. Don't you?"

"Yeah... And fuck you for turning it back on to me, you jackass."

Peter laughed and he looked pleased with himself. "I out-shrinked a shrink? I am Bruce Willis! It's going to be okay, Abby. Thomas won't hate you. He loves Svetlana and she killed him."

"And you love her and she rap...heh. Sorry. Svetlana's a sore spot," she said when Peter's smiled faded to a slightly horrified grimace. "But you're right. I didn't snap his neck, right?"

"...right."

"All I did was stop him from killing himself so really...I did a good thing, even if he was traumatised by it and he broke one of the hospital's computers and smashed his fingers into bloody bits."

"You probably don't need to summarise it for him-"

"Thanks, Peter." Abby sighed and then she stood up and helped him to his feet as well. "You know...we make a pretty good tag team..." And she held out a hand for Peter to high five. Which he did, using his injured arm.

"OW! Oh my...oh my god, I'm dying..." Peter slipped back into his chair and he watched Abby leave, strutting her winning strut.

"You never out-shrink a shrink," she called back to him and then she closed the door behind her.