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sendthembackKeith worries. Rachel doesn't want to talk about it. Bitchy snuggles. Lots of awkward talking about nothing!
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Words achieved: 25,758
Words of today: 1,782
When Keith crawls under the blanket, he becomes a magnet, immediately drawing Rachel's warm body towards his.
"You don't think you're sick sick, do you?" he whispers, pressing his lips lightly against her scalp. He lifts his hand and holds his palm against where his mouth just was. "You feel pretty warm."
She shakes her head and scoots in a little closer, grinding her shoulder lightly into his chest as she settles in. "I'm just hung over, Keith, and only partially at this point. Plus, I'm sure the damn pills I took this morning didn't help."
Keith nods. "I guess ibuprofen can make your stom--Oh, God." He stops, his arms briefly encircling her shoulders, tightening around her and then dropping away. He has to take a long breath before he can go on. "Are you going to be okay? I mean, since you threw up, do you need..."
"No, I'm fine," Rachel answers, rolling onto Keith's chest and wrapping her arms around his stomach. "The pill dissolves in about half an hour. If it worked, it worked, puke or no puke."
"If it worked? What do you..." He lifts his head a little, his chin bumping lightly against the top of her head. "Rachel?"
She hides her face in his neck. "Let's not talk about it right now, okay?"
"I think we need to talk, and about several things."
"How about in a little while?" She speaks into the pillow next to his ear. "My head is starting to hurt again."
Keith shakes his head. "We're not going to talk about it if we don't talk about it now."
"Is that a bad thing?" Rachel asks. Keith lets his arms fall around her shoulders again, but she immediately struggles away, slipping onto her back.
She sighs, staring up at the ceiling. "All right, what do you want to talk about?"
"A half a dozen things?" he offers, moving to his side to look at her. She pulls the sheet up higher, turning her head to look back.
"Well, pick one."
"I... All right. What about this 'if it works' thing?"
Rachel rolls her eyes. "Plan B is... Look... According to the literature, 7 out of 8 women who would have gotten pregnant without it don't get pregnant, which means 1 out of 8 women who were in danger of becoming pregnant will still get pregnant, even with the pill. Still, it's most likely I'm fine, because maybe I wouldn't have gotten pregnant, anyway--no offense to the potency of your seed--and--"
"That's not funny," Keith grunts, rolling onto his back.
"What?" Rachel asks. She doesn't pursue him like he thought she might. She just keeps staring at the ceiling. "Did I offend your sperm?"
"No, Rachel," Keith huffs. "I mean, the whole thing isn't funny. You apparently could still be pregnant and I--"
"I'm not fucking pregnant, okay? And if I were, your being all freaked out about it wouldn't help, so just--"
"What?"
"Just shut up." Rachel does move this time, but in the opposite direction, turning her back to him.
Keith sighs. "Rachel, don't do that. I'm sorry, okay, but don't you think it's a little important to think about?"
"Fine, sure, it's very important," Rachel grunts. "But, I'm telling you, I'm not pregnant, and there's nothing we can do about it right now if I am. It's, it's a waste of brain power."
"Well," Keith says. He pushes a little closer to her, though he doesn't touch her. "Can't you take a pregnancy test or something?"
Rachel laughs. "Sure, in about a week. If I took one now, it'd come out negative, no matter what."
"What? Why?"
"Oh, Keith, read a damn biology text book and get back to me." She shifts away from him, squirming over to the very edge of the bed.
"Rachel."
"What?" she grunts.
"All right, I'll close the topic for now, okay? You're making this really difficult, though."
"I think you're making it difficult by talking about it."
"Damn it, Rachel," Keith groans. "You're acting like a fucking teenager."
Rachel laughs. "And how many teenagers have you knocked up in your day?"
"That's not--Rachel, can you please at least look at me right now?"
"I have a headache and my stomach feels like... like hell. I don't really--"
"Why did you sleep with me?" Keith asks. The question actually does make Rachel look at him, but he doesn't like the expression on her face when she tosses herself back around toward him.
"I don't know, Keith. I was drunk and fucked up in the head and you felt nice? Good enough?"
"Not really, but--"
"Why did you sleep with me, then? I mean, you've always wanted to, I know, but I never thought you'd actually go through with it."
"I've always wanted to?" Keith asks, mostly to try and redirect the focus of the conversation. "Am I that obvious?"
"Keith," Rachel sighs. "You kind of want to sleep with everything, I think, or at least everything female, and maybe a few select male everythings. Besides--"
"Wait, so you think I just had sex with you because I'm a horny bastard?"
"No, that's not--"
"Rachel, you're not just 'everything'. I mean, you're more than everything."
"I don't know if that's possible," Rachel laughs, tossing up her hands and then pulling the sheet up once again. "I mean, everything is everything."
Keith makes a weird, impatient, exasperated noise somewhere in the back of his throat. "I'm trying to tell you something, okay?"
"Okay," Rachel answers. She lifts her left arm above her head, running her fingers across the headboard.
"You're smart and I like you."
Rachel snorts. "Profound."
"Okay, maybe I don't like you any more, then," Keith sighs.
"I like you, too, Keith," Rachel says. "And I think you're pretty smart, and funny, and a glorious asshole, but in a good way."
"God fucking damn, you piss me off so much sometimes," Keith sighs.
"Oh, I know."
Keith opens his arms to her and Rachel lets her hand drop, studying him for a second before crawling back over to him.
"So, that's it, then?" he asks.
"What do you mean?"
"That's why we... did that?"
Rachel laughs. "I think it may be a little more complicated than that, but that's a tiny part of it."
"What else is there?"
"Well," Rachel sighs. "There's loneliness and emptiness and secret emotional stuff that both of us refuse to talk to anyone about."
"Like what?" he asks.
Rachel laughs. "What, you want to talk about that now, too? Or, you want to talk about it now, after we've already fucked because we couldn't talk about it previously?"
Keith shrugs, choosing to ignore her implications. "You tell me yours, I'll tell you mine? We might as well..."
"Even if it means we never have accidental lonely, empty therapy sex again?" Rachel teases.
"I suppose..."
Rachel smiles. "I hate your guts sometimes, you know."
"Where did that--"
"You drive me crazy, too, you know, acting like you've got everything all put together and never letting anybody see what's actually going on. It's stupid. And you're so fucking stubborn. Why do you have to be so stubborn?"
"I'm stubborn?" Keith asks. He lets his hand fall on the back of her neck, tugging lightly at her hair.
Rachel smirks against his skin. "Very stubborn."
"Yeah, well," he answers. "You're stubborn and a grump."
"Maybe I am," Rachel answers. "So, how about you tell me yours and I'll tell you mine?"
"Hey, don't you start trying to reverse things on me, especially after you just insulted me."
"I didn't insult you at all." Rachel rearranges her body against his, shifting up a little to rest her head on his shoulder again. His hand strays a little, his fingers brushing over her shoulders. "And, if I were really trying to reverse things, I'd ask you to tell me mine and I'd tell you yours."
"Wasn't that actually kind of what we were just doing?"
"Damn it," Rachel laughs, shaking her head. She kisses Keith's jaw, then suddenly freezes. Her body becomes so tense that Keith actually drops his hand away from her back.
"Damn it," she repeats. She takes a breath. "Okay."
"Okay?" he asks.
"Okay." She relaxes into him again, resting her palm on his chest. "So, tell me. What's wrong with Keith Olbermann."
"What did you just... What just happened?"
"I'll... It's your turn first, Keith."
"Maybe we should get dressed and move into the living room. You should have some more water and eat something."
"I'm going to eat with Stephen, remember? And I like it like this right now."
Keith sighs. "Are you sure, because I'm pretty sure you just had a little mini internal freakout a second ago, and I'm also pretty sure it had to do with how it's 'like this right now.'"
"Maybe it's a reflex? I don't know. I mean, I shouldn't have just kissed you then, even just on your face, but I just sort of did."
"And I shouldn't be touching you like this," Keith says, lifting his hand from where it's fallen back onto her skin.
"But... I don't know. It mostly feels okay. We're not doing anything. We're just--"
"Lying together half-naked in my bed," Keith finishes. "That's a little strange, you have to admit."
"Strange to who?"
"To whom." Keith winces at his own voice. "I'm an asshole. And it just is."
"So, who cares?" Rachel answers, her voice slipping toward a whine.
Keith sighs. "Just don't--"
"I'm not going to have sex with you, okay? We're not drunk and I'm not completely crazy."
"That's not what I was going to say at all."
"Then what were you going to say?" Rachel asks. She pulls away a little, looking up at him. "I just like being with you like this. Lonely and empty, remember?"
"Stupid and uneducational." Keith says it through his teeth.
Rachel's lips twitch toward a half smile. "Stupid, at least."
"I suppose so."
"Do you want me to tell you what's wrong with me first, then? I think I can do it."
"Maybe," Keith answers.
"All right. Let me just..." She rolls away from him. "Hold me like this again."
"Okay." Keith shifts forward, leaning into her back.
Rachel takes a deep breath and Keith presses a quick kiss into her hair. He immediately wants to kick himself for it, but then, she doesn't tense up this time. She actually relaxes a little.
She takes one more breath. "I think I really fucked up, Keith."
Words required: 23,338
Words achieved: 25,758
Words of today: 1,782
When Keith crawls under the blanket, he becomes a magnet, immediately drawing Rachel's warm body towards his.
"You don't think you're sick sick, do you?" he whispers, pressing his lips lightly against her scalp. He lifts his hand and holds his palm against where his mouth just was. "You feel pretty warm."
She shakes her head and scoots in a little closer, grinding her shoulder lightly into his chest as she settles in. "I'm just hung over, Keith, and only partially at this point. Plus, I'm sure the damn pills I took this morning didn't help."
Keith nods. "I guess ibuprofen can make your stom--Oh, God." He stops, his arms briefly encircling her shoulders, tightening around her and then dropping away. He has to take a long breath before he can go on. "Are you going to be okay? I mean, since you threw up, do you need..."
"No, I'm fine," Rachel answers, rolling onto Keith's chest and wrapping her arms around his stomach. "The pill dissolves in about half an hour. If it worked, it worked, puke or no puke."
"If it worked? What do you..." He lifts his head a little, his chin bumping lightly against the top of her head. "Rachel?"
She hides her face in his neck. "Let's not talk about it right now, okay?"
"I think we need to talk, and about several things."
"How about in a little while?" She speaks into the pillow next to his ear. "My head is starting to hurt again."
Keith shakes his head. "We're not going to talk about it if we don't talk about it now."
"Is that a bad thing?" Rachel asks. Keith lets his arms fall around her shoulders again, but she immediately struggles away, slipping onto her back.
She sighs, staring up at the ceiling. "All right, what do you want to talk about?"
"A half a dozen things?" he offers, moving to his side to look at her. She pulls the sheet up higher, turning her head to look back.
"Well, pick one."
"I... All right. What about this 'if it works' thing?"
Rachel rolls her eyes. "Plan B is... Look... According to the literature, 7 out of 8 women who would have gotten pregnant without it don't get pregnant, which means 1 out of 8 women who were in danger of becoming pregnant will still get pregnant, even with the pill. Still, it's most likely I'm fine, because maybe I wouldn't have gotten pregnant, anyway--no offense to the potency of your seed--and--"
"That's not funny," Keith grunts, rolling onto his back.
"What?" Rachel asks. She doesn't pursue him like he thought she might. She just keeps staring at the ceiling. "Did I offend your sperm?"
"No, Rachel," Keith huffs. "I mean, the whole thing isn't funny. You apparently could still be pregnant and I--"
"I'm not fucking pregnant, okay? And if I were, your being all freaked out about it wouldn't help, so just--"
"What?"
"Just shut up." Rachel does move this time, but in the opposite direction, turning her back to him.
Keith sighs. "Rachel, don't do that. I'm sorry, okay, but don't you think it's a little important to think about?"
"Fine, sure, it's very important," Rachel grunts. "But, I'm telling you, I'm not pregnant, and there's nothing we can do about it right now if I am. It's, it's a waste of brain power."
"Well," Keith says. He pushes a little closer to her, though he doesn't touch her. "Can't you take a pregnancy test or something?"
Rachel laughs. "Sure, in about a week. If I took one now, it'd come out negative, no matter what."
"What? Why?"
"Oh, Keith, read a damn biology text book and get back to me." She shifts away from him, squirming over to the very edge of the bed.
"Rachel."
"What?" she grunts.
"All right, I'll close the topic for now, okay? You're making this really difficult, though."
"I think you're making it difficult by talking about it."
"Damn it, Rachel," Keith groans. "You're acting like a fucking teenager."
Rachel laughs. "And how many teenagers have you knocked up in your day?"
"That's not--Rachel, can you please at least look at me right now?"
"I have a headache and my stomach feels like... like hell. I don't really--"
"Why did you sleep with me?" Keith asks. The question actually does make Rachel look at him, but he doesn't like the expression on her face when she tosses herself back around toward him.
"I don't know, Keith. I was drunk and fucked up in the head and you felt nice? Good enough?"
"Not really, but--"
"Why did you sleep with me, then? I mean, you've always wanted to, I know, but I never thought you'd actually go through with it."
"I've always wanted to?" Keith asks, mostly to try and redirect the focus of the conversation. "Am I that obvious?"
"Keith," Rachel sighs. "You kind of want to sleep with everything, I think, or at least everything female, and maybe a few select male everythings. Besides--"
"Wait, so you think I just had sex with you because I'm a horny bastard?"
"No, that's not--"
"Rachel, you're not just 'everything'. I mean, you're more than everything."
"I don't know if that's possible," Rachel laughs, tossing up her hands and then pulling the sheet up once again. "I mean, everything is everything."
Keith makes a weird, impatient, exasperated noise somewhere in the back of his throat. "I'm trying to tell you something, okay?"
"Okay," Rachel answers. She lifts her left arm above her head, running her fingers across the headboard.
"You're smart and I like you."
Rachel snorts. "Profound."
"Okay, maybe I don't like you any more, then," Keith sighs.
"I like you, too, Keith," Rachel says. "And I think you're pretty smart, and funny, and a glorious asshole, but in a good way."
"God fucking damn, you piss me off so much sometimes," Keith sighs.
"Oh, I know."
Keith opens his arms to her and Rachel lets her hand drop, studying him for a second before crawling back over to him.
"So, that's it, then?" he asks.
"What do you mean?"
"That's why we... did that?"
Rachel laughs. "I think it may be a little more complicated than that, but that's a tiny part of it."
"What else is there?"
"Well," Rachel sighs. "There's loneliness and emptiness and secret emotional stuff that both of us refuse to talk to anyone about."
"Like what?" he asks.
Rachel laughs. "What, you want to talk about that now, too? Or, you want to talk about it now, after we've already fucked because we couldn't talk about it previously?"
Keith shrugs, choosing to ignore her implications. "You tell me yours, I'll tell you mine? We might as well..."
"Even if it means we never have accidental lonely, empty therapy sex again?" Rachel teases.
"I suppose..."
Rachel smiles. "I hate your guts sometimes, you know."
"Where did that--"
"You drive me crazy, too, you know, acting like you've got everything all put together and never letting anybody see what's actually going on. It's stupid. And you're so fucking stubborn. Why do you have to be so stubborn?"
"I'm stubborn?" Keith asks. He lets his hand fall on the back of her neck, tugging lightly at her hair.
Rachel smirks against his skin. "Very stubborn."
"Yeah, well," he answers. "You're stubborn and a grump."
"Maybe I am," Rachel answers. "So, how about you tell me yours and I'll tell you mine?"
"Hey, don't you start trying to reverse things on me, especially after you just insulted me."
"I didn't insult you at all." Rachel rearranges her body against his, shifting up a little to rest her head on his shoulder again. His hand strays a little, his fingers brushing over her shoulders. "And, if I were really trying to reverse things, I'd ask you to tell me mine and I'd tell you yours."
"Wasn't that actually kind of what we were just doing?"
"Damn it," Rachel laughs, shaking her head. She kisses Keith's jaw, then suddenly freezes. Her body becomes so tense that Keith actually drops his hand away from her back.
"Damn it," she repeats. She takes a breath. "Okay."
"Okay?" he asks.
"Okay." She relaxes into him again, resting her palm on his chest. "So, tell me. What's wrong with Keith Olbermann."
"What did you just... What just happened?"
"I'll... It's your turn first, Keith."
"Maybe we should get dressed and move into the living room. You should have some more water and eat something."
"I'm going to eat with Stephen, remember? And I like it like this right now."
Keith sighs. "Are you sure, because I'm pretty sure you just had a little mini internal freakout a second ago, and I'm also pretty sure it had to do with how it's 'like this right now.'"
"Maybe it's a reflex? I don't know. I mean, I shouldn't have just kissed you then, even just on your face, but I just sort of did."
"And I shouldn't be touching you like this," Keith says, lifting his hand from where it's fallen back onto her skin.
"But... I don't know. It mostly feels okay. We're not doing anything. We're just--"
"Lying together half-naked in my bed," Keith finishes. "That's a little strange, you have to admit."
"Strange to who?"
"To whom." Keith winces at his own voice. "I'm an asshole. And it just is."
"So, who cares?" Rachel answers, her voice slipping toward a whine.
Keith sighs. "Just don't--"
"I'm not going to have sex with you, okay? We're not drunk and I'm not completely crazy."
"That's not what I was going to say at all."
"Then what were you going to say?" Rachel asks. She pulls away a little, looking up at him. "I just like being with you like this. Lonely and empty, remember?"
"Stupid and uneducational." Keith says it through his teeth.
Rachel's lips twitch toward a half smile. "Stupid, at least."
"I suppose so."
"Do you want me to tell you what's wrong with me first, then? I think I can do it."
"Maybe," Keith answers.
"All right. Let me just..." She rolls away from him. "Hold me like this again."
"Okay." Keith shifts forward, leaning into her back.
Rachel takes a deep breath and Keith presses a quick kiss into her hair. He immediately wants to kick himself for it, but then, she doesn't tense up this time. She actually relaxes a little.
She takes one more breath. "I think I really fucked up, Keith."
