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Rachel poked disconsolately at her dinner with her free hand. "I hate this."

"I know, Ray." Dawn patted her friend's leg. "It's your own fault for managing to injury yourself in another weird way."

Spike snorted and contemplated eating the officious little administrator. Declán had called them from the hospital and now they were all gathered around Rachel's bed. The woman with the clipboard and zero medical experience had insisted on a suicide watch, because she didn't believe you could accidentally cut your wrist while washing the dishes.

"This mushy stuff tastes like old socks, Dawn."

"It is hospital food."


open_on_sundaychallenge #210: special dinners
Part of the London!verse and the Wolf&Declán!verse


2nd Apr, 2007 21:52 (UTC)
I thought it was a bit cruel to inflict my bike accident on Rachel. Which means someone else will get it sooner or later.

I don't know if it's a good or bad thing to have a wacky list of injuries on your records. At least you didn't get grilled the second time around.

Glass fragments working their way out does not sound pleasant. Although the wiggly bit sounds entertaining.