imakethebadjokes: (sigh; your annoyingness is annoying)
"I'm sick, Jen." Wally tried to look intimidating.

Jenny didn't remove her arms from around Wally's neck. In fact, they tightened.

"Yeah, I know," she said. "But it's just…" Her face scrunched in what look like pain. Wally's face puckered in concern, previous feelings of irritation long forgotten.

"Jen?"

"I don't know!" Her face reddened -- from embarrassment or pent up frustrations, Wally couldn't be sure (probably both) -- and she huffed. "Okay? I don't know! I just don't want to leave you alone right now."
imakethebadjokes: (smile; prettiest smile you never seen)
Becky laughed, soda spittle and all, and Jenny grinned.

"You're kidding me!" Becky hooted, whipping her head around, eyes wide and eager for more of what Jenny had to say. And it felt nice -- how, once upon a time, Becky and Jenny were tussling around Orwell Prodigal High School's hallway lockers, calling each other names and bruising their shoulders.
imakethebadjokes: (grin; best pearly white smile ever)
"Whazza matter, Wally?" She stuck her tongue out between her teeth, dimples pinching at her cheeks. "Cat got your tongue?"

Wally groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. "That was horrible, Jenny." Jenny laughed and placed a kiss on his cheek. Wally waited for her to pull back before he swooped in with his arms and caught her close to his body. He smirked.

"And up until now, no. You're the only one who's caught my tongue."

Jenny squawked and hit his shoulder none too hard. "Perv!"

"Babe, you know it."
imakethebadjokes: (disbelieving; that looks fake)
Wally wondered if he was a bad friend, encouraging Jenny's dangerous vigilantism (he was just holding her stuff, nothing like putting the costume on her and shoving her out there with a rough "go get 'em, tiger", no.) But then his common sense returned and he remembered that he was just the good best friend, holding his best friend's things so she could go and save the day. It made him feel a little better.
imakethebadjokes: (freaked; jeepers creepers)
"Jenny? What the fuck -- Jenny?" His voice rose in octaves of anger and pure disbelief. Because it wasn't Alley-Cat standing, dripping gross and blood on his suite's polished floor, but the girl he'd known since they'd been in diapers.

----

"No!" she shouted, using up what extra energy she had to raise her voice. She fell back against the dresser, wincing when a knob dug into her side, and shook her head when Wally tried to move to her side. "No hospitals," she said, low. "I -- I can't let anyone find out about--" she scrunched her eyes shut, face screwing up in pain -- okay, Jenny girl, you can do this -- and she tried putting weight back onto her left foot, but pain shot like an arrow, and she yelped -- "Dammit!" -- and had to accept Wally's help.

Wally threw one of Jenny's arms over his shoulder and around his neck, one hand holding her there, the other going to rest against the small of Jenny's back, supporting her weight. "Are you nuts," he breathed, the cornucopia of frustration and confusion taking a backseat to the wash of worry and fear he felt seeing his best friend in pain.

"You need to see a doctor."

Jenny shook her head, refusing. "They'll know who I am."

Wally growled. Trust Jenny to be stubborn even when she was so beat up that she could barely stand on her own. But Jenny gripped onto Wally's jacket's lapel and forced him to look her in the eye.

He'd never seen those chocolate brown eyes look so scared and it unnerved him into giving into her.

"All right. No hospitals." And just like that, all the energy went out of Jenny's body and she sagged right against Wally, forcing the Arden heir to wrap an arm about her middle to keep her from crumpling to the floor.

"Shit, Jenny!"

"I'm sorry," she croaked. "But…it just really hurts."

Wally sighed, aggravated. "Which is why I wanted to take you to a hospital."

"No hospit--"

"I know. I know." Okay. Jenny was heavy. Wally started moving towards one of the armchairs, setting her down as gently as possible -- Jenny stilled hissed like the cat she tried to be, wriggling and squirming. Too late did Wally realize that she was getting blood and God knows what else was in the dirt on his chair.

But Jenny did.

"I'm ruining your chair."

"Whatever. I'll get the stains out later."

"I'll pay to get them dry cleaned," Jenny was half delirious from the pain, head starting to loll. "We've got those, right? Dry cleaners for furniture?" She couldn't think straight; trouble concentrating on the pain or Wally. Enough that when she opened her eyes again, Wally was gone.

She tensed up. "Wally!"

"I'm here," he reappeared from her peripheral vision with a first aid kit, some towels, and a garbage bag. He set it all down in front of her and then moved over her, reaching for the fastening on the back of Jenny's costume. "We're going to have to get this off of you."

Jenny was too exhausted to stop Wally. "Why?"

Wally sighed -- he did that a lot around her, Jenny realized -- and began peeling back the wet, grimy material from Jenny's skin (she hadn't even realized he'd undone the fastening already). "Because if you're not going to go to the hospital I'll just have to treat you myself."

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Jennifer Jones [Alley-Cat] from Orwell City

May 2016

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