JENNA: * The driftwood continues on its merry way through the night, carried by the whim of the ocean in whatever direction seems best. In the dark, it's hard to see their salvation, but not far away is a sandy beach, and with it an island -- and happily the driftwood is making straight for it. Jo doesn't stir at all in the intervening hours, not even waking when the makeshift raft strikes sand, and the first pale rays of dawn begin to warm the beach.

JUSTIN: * Shane rouses from his half-nap, still weary -- both mentally and physically. For a moment he isn't sure what's happened, where they are, or how they got there. He can't comprehend that they'd be so lucky. Comprehend it or not, however, he quickly rolls off the splintered wood to rest in the moist sand, heaving a few breaths of relief to have solid ground beneath him. After a moment to get his wits about him, he slides of Jo's arms over his shoulder, one of his own around her waist, and begins to crawl up the beach.

JENNA: * At the change in motion, Jocasta suddenly stirs, coughing violently and thrashing. Only half conscious, her own motions send her tumbling face-first into the sand, whereupon she groans and starts coughing again.

JUSTIN: * Shane starts at the sudden noise, and half drops her before he can steady his hand. He falls onto his hands and turns her over onto her back, attempting to help her sit upright. "Easy now!" He says, glancing about as if to make sure nobody but her heard that. "Easy, you've been out the whole night. No telling what kinds of injuries you have."

JENNA: * Jo is slow to come aware of her surroundings, even after the coughing stops, first reaching a shaky hand up to gingerly touch her throbbing head. "Where?" she croaks after a moment, grimacing at the sound of her own voice.

JUSTIN: "I... I'm not entirely sure." Shane gives a brief look around, seeing nothing he hadn't already. "A beach... an island, I don't know. We only just washed up some minutes ago. I confess to not being entirely aware during our trip here."

JENNA: * Jo gives a low shudder, her own memories of the journey unclear and unpleasant. She's about to speak, when a shrill, female titter of laughter rings out across the beach, accompanied by lower strains that indicate a male partner. She jerks her head around to look at the arrivals and regrets it immediately in a wash of pain and nausea. "Damn it."

JUSTIN: * Shane cocks his head, turning toward the noise with an entirely bewildered expression. "Apparently not as deserted an island as I'd thought." He attempts to stand, but his leg protests, and so he settles for a half-kneel, up on one and down on the other. "But who...? It can't be survivors, they'd certainly have nothing worth laughing about."

JENNA: "Shit," Jo croaks again, making a strong effort to get to her feet and succeeding mostly in nearly falling over again. "Not here." The couple, meanwhile, has paused, and is staring at the other pair with almost affronted expression. "Hey!" the girl calls out, clearly annoyed. "We've rented this beach -- it's ours 'til noon, so clear out!" Jo groans faintly, pressing her hand to her head again.

JUSTIN: "You've what?! Begging your pardon, madam, but you'd best mind your tone when you address a stranger!" Ignoring the pain in his leg, Shane manages to get to his feet, albeit shakily, and some of the past night's stress overtakes him, contorting his face into a look of disgusted rage. "I'll have you know I am an officer of the law -- and where I wash up after a bloody shipwreck is hardly under my control! Now if you'd mind telling me where we are, and where I can get this woman some medical treatment--" He points to where Jo is sitting, "--perhaps I'll overlook your lack of respect!"

JENNA: "What did you say?" The male half of the pair, silent until now in apparent surprise, steps forward aggressively, fists clenching in a gesture probably most familiar to him. His companion clings admiringly to his arm, only exacerbating his desire to show off. "You aren't in any position to talk about respect, buddy," he growls, and Jo once again attempts to struggle to her feet, ignoring headache, nausea and general unwillingness to move in favor of getting them both out alive.

JUSTIN: * Shane growls furiously. He's probably half delirious from hunger, thirst, and the various aches and pains in his body, and it is probably the only reason he thinks he's in any condition to be speaking, never mind about to risk a fist fight. "If you think you can talk to me in that manner and get away with it, I implore you to take your best shot!"

JENNA: * By this time, Jo has made it to her feet, albeit unsteadily, and in the face of this testosterone explosion finds herself too tired to even feel disgust. Somehow, she manages to get her fingers around Shane's arm, tugging him slightly as she pulls herself around to his front and collapses against his chest -- half an act, half because she's having trouble standing. Before he can do much about it -- push her away, for example -- she growls, "/Stop it/," in an angry undertone, her own fingers curling into a threatening ball at his stomach. The other man, puzzled by this sudden obstacle, has halted a few feet away.

JUSTIN: * Shane staggers slightly, the added weight sending a sudden spike of pain shooting across his leg, and his face contorts to accentuate this fact. After a second of being unable to speak for sheer lack of breath, he manages a hoarse, squeaking question. "Wha -- Jo, what are you doing? This man has outright insulted us!"

JENNA: "How is that," she grates, panting with the effort of talking, "important? They -- aren't going to help us." She shifts slightly, attempting to push more to her feet. "Help me walk," she says shortly, trying to tug him along. As it is, she feels as if she's about to fall over once more, dazed in the rising heat from the sun. The other pair is watching them uncertainly -- the man with no small amount of smugness.

JUSTIN: * Shane gives the couple a rather grouchy, disapproving glare -- as many of his glares are -- and reluctantly turns from them to tend to his admittedly more important problems. "I was only defending our honor, is all." He mutters, slipping Jo's arm up around his shoulder and trying to help her walk, while having a hard time of it himself.

JENNA: "Not important right now," she mutters, trying to give him a little support as well, though she's not much in a state for it. As they pass the couple, still watching them with intense scorn, she sways dramatically, nearly lurching into the male half of it. She staggers back before he can react (fist already raised in retaliation as the woman squeals). Leaning against Shane again, she bares her teeth in a faint smile. "It all evens out."

JUSTIN: "It's their own shame to live with, I suppose." Shane agrees, and he's starting to feel the effect of all that wasted breath and energy. He sighs heavily, and his breathing is becoming somewhat labored the further they go. "You... seemed to know where we were, before. I heard you say something... What was it?"

JENNA: * Jo grimaces. "A guess.. is all." She stumbles again, swearing, and takes a breath, looking tired. "Never been here before.. resort island.. east of Prontera." She looks up the path ahead, which is lined with a slatted fence, decorated with garish tropical blooms. She makes another face. "Jawaii."

JUSTIN: "Jawaii? What language is that? Sounds unnatural." Shane shudders, then regrets it as it only contributes to his lack of balance. He takes a moment to steady himself and his partner, then begins moving again. "At least if it's a resort, it is bound to have food and water. And transportation." He huffs, catching his breath after that sentence. "If we don't... pass out before we get there..."

JENNA: * At this, Jo gives a short, barking laugh. "Can't.. be far. They only want.. private beach --" She stumbles forward, feet striking, instead of sand and stone, a wooden deck. "-- if it's not too far.. from civilization." Stretched out ahead of them is a network of wooden bridges, all set close to the sandy beach that seems to make up most of the island. There isn't much bustle, though there are plenty of people around, a few of whom are obviously employees.

JUSTIN: * Shane straightens slightly as they stumble onto the wooden bridge, taking in the surrounding view. "Well... doesn't look so bad..." His words are only words, however, and he'd be happy with a one-room shack as long as there was someone there to help them. He tries to pick up the pace, while still accommodating his companion's injuries -- not to mention his own.

JENNA: * Jo's expression becomes wary as they near and pass the small clusters of people. She waves vaguely toward what looks like a reception desk, all decked out in tropical theme. The person behind it is staring at them in polite puzzlement as they approach, and she stands in surprise at the sight of their injuries and battered clothing. "Mercy! Where did you two come from?"

JUSTIN: * Shane all but collapses against the desk as they reach it, grateful for something solid to lean against that doesn't have injuries of its own. "Madam..." He moves to tip his hat, frowning at its absence. "I'm afraid I didn't catch the name of the ship... but I suppose it is of little consequence now." He attempts a proper bow, but the look of pain that crosses his face makes it obvious it wasn't a good idea. "You might say we're survivors, though I'm afraid that won't hold true for long at this rate." Shane smiles sheepishly, a little perturbed by his own dark humor.

JENNA: * The woman looks momentarily confused by this, then an expression of alarm crosses her features. "Mother of mercy -- there was a shipwreck? I thought I saw a storm out there, but --" Jo interrupts her, trying not to lean heavily on the counter, but not succeeding in particular. "If there's a ship here, we can leave right away," she says, and the woman turns to her, expression becoming apologetic. "Oh.. no.. there won't be another one in for over a week ... unless that ship you were on was headed here --" Her face becomes alarmed again.

JUSTIN: "No, no -- this was not our intended destination." Shane gives Jo a weary side glance. "Though, I suppose our eventual destination was a matter of dispute in any case." He shakes this departure from the subject away, turning back to the woman behind the desk. "If we could have a moment to rest and tend to our wounds, we can decide what to do from there... but I am afraid I'm about to pass out, and I would rather not do that out here."

JENNA: "Oh geez, we really don't have anywhere..." The woman looks flustered, as if she's never had to deal with this situation before. "I -- oh, for mercy's sake, sit down on a bench over there -- I'll go talk to my manager." Jo stares at her, clearly feeling this 'manager' business does not bode well, but she nods shortly -- regretting it -- and stumbles away from the reception desk, swaying on her way to the bench.

JUSTIN: * Shane follows after her shortly, apparently using up all of his breath for the moment and unable to formulate a response. He attempts to settle himself onto the bench comfortably, but everything seems soar -- his leg, especially gives him trouble, and he decides to roll up his pant leg to inspect the damage. A large bruise covers most of the surface, and he grimaces at the sight.

JENNA: * Jo glances at him, though most of her focus is on calming her throbbing head, and she grunts faintly. "Ugly," she remarks, but not much more can be said before the woman returns with remarkable speed, apparently deep in an argument with an older man.

JUSTIN: * Shane looks about to respond before the sight of the approaching pair takes his attention. He quickly rolls his pant leg down and attempts to stand again. His arms waver at his side for a moment as he attempts to gain balance, and he foregoes his usual bowing in favor of a deep nod. "Hello, good sir--" He starts, and clears his throat when it hardly comes out. "If it is no trouble, my... traveling partner and I..." His speech loses steam rather quickly when he fears he is being ignored in favor of whatever argument the two are having.

JENNA: * Jo slowly pushes herself upright, eyes narrowing as she listens to the two. "Absolutely /not/, Natalie --" "But /sir/, they're injured! They need a place to stay 'til the next ship comes!" "That room's /reserved/ --" "But it isn't occupied! And the people who want it won't be here 'til the next ship, anyway! For pity's sake --" "I said no! We have our customers to consider --" Jo clears her throat as the two approach, taking hold of Shane's arm as if to stop him from doing anything stupid. "We can pay," she says, at the same time applying pressure to her companion.

JUSTIN: "We can what?" Shane bumps out of the way at her gently applied pressure, turning to her in confusion. He lowers his voice, as if intending for only her to hear. "With what?" If anything, at least her statement has distracted him from lashing at the manager with a tirade about chivalry and helping those in need and other such noble notions.

JENNA: * She ignores his question, squeezing his arm even harder with a murmur of "Let me handle it." Then she steps away from him, digging in her clothes to tug out a money pouch of indeterminate design. "How much?" she asks flatly, and the manager, greed finally overcoming his own arguments, smiles in what he probably feels is a friendly, pleasant way. "Fifteen hundred for the room. Five hundred more for meal service." Jo shrugs, then flicks through the pouch to produce the desired number of coins and bills. "Two thousand, then," she says, and the manager smiles even wider. The receptionist looks appalled, but she manages a weak. "I'll.. I'll show you to your room, then."

JUSTIN: * Shane looks indignant at being told to remain out of the conversation, but the look turns to stunned disbelief as she produces two-thousand zeny seemingly out of nowhere. He steps up to her after the money has been taken and turns her around, ignoring the receptionist's words (and maybe not even hearing them). "Where did you... how do you have so much money?!"

JENNA: * She shrugs, tucking the pouch away again -- there appears to be plenty left -- and looks at him almost insolently, knowing that no answer she gives will satisfy him. "Magic," she says, and follows the receptionist, who has started off, apparently too flustered to wait for a response.

JUSTIN: * This gives Shane pause, and he blinks, face going blank as if there is even a possibility he should consider this conclusion. It must be the sea air. And the pain, and the tiredness, and the hunger, and the thirst. He stumbles after her, looking utterly lost.

JENNA: * The walk is surprisingly long, this particular room appearing to be more isolated than the rest, and by the time it comes into sight, Jo is nearly staggering from pain and weariness. She barely hears the receptionist telling them about the meal cards located next to the door, which they can use to order food for any of the three major meals. Further, she reports, the room has running water and a spacious bath, but Jo only seems interested in taking the key and staggering inside after a moment's fumbling with the lock.

JUSTIN: * Shane, for his part, seems to have recovered from his earlier bewilderment just in time for Jo to disappear into the room. He sends something that isn't quite a glare after her -- the words "I'll be speaking to you later" go unspoken. Instead of following her, he turns to the receptionist before she can leave. "About medical supplies... could we arrange to have them brought to the room? I do not think my companion and I can stomach another long walk for a while."

JENNA: "Oh --" The receptionist blinks, looking embarrassed at having forgotten. "There's an extensive first aid kit provided with each cabin," she says quickly. "Some of our guests -- well --" She colors and decides to leave the rest unspoken. "Please don't forget to sign up for a meal." Then she bows and makes her way hurriedly back up the trail. Jo, meanwhile, has stumbled to the center of the room, where she has stopped, holding herself upright through sheer force of will, and started laughing, voice tinged with an edge of hysteria.

JUSTIN: * The hair on the back of Shane's neck stands on end at the sudden sound from the room, and he rushes through the door as quickly as he can muster. "What's wrong?! What is it?!" He screeches to a halt as he comes up beside her, almost falling flat on his face. "Dear gods! What in the name of Odin is that thing?!"

JENNA: * At the sound of his voice, Jo's will to keep standing seems to leave her, and her legs slide out from under her, laughter fading to still-hysterical giggles. The object of her stare is a hideous confection of pink silk and gauzy lace, crouching at one end of the room like a monstrous toad -- a bed in the shape of a heart. "I'm going to be sick," Jo says, and she appears to mean it, casting about dizzily for a bucket or a bowl -- or, well, anything.

JUSTIN: "Oh -- oh dear!" Shane understands the look on her face all too well, having felt the same way several times over the last few hours. He immediately scoops her to her feet and half drags her in the direction of the bathroom. "Not on the floor, Jo, please!"

JENNA: * Jo's giggles persist intermittently, leaving her totally unable to formulate a reply. Once they reach the door to the bathroom, however, she lurches past him, grabbing the doorframe for support, and barely makes it to the basin before her stomach empties itself of its minimal contents. She gives a very faint groan, then leans forward and vomits again, waiting for several minutes before she decides her stomach's finished. "You can.. have.. that bed, all right?" she rasps, turning the faucet in an attempt to wash the mess down the drain, pausing briefly to wash her own mouth out with cool water.

JUSTIN: * Shane shudders involuntarily, turning away from the mess once he's certain she's all right. "I am not entirely sure it should be called a bed." He hobbles over to it warily, poking at its surface with a grubby hand. His head turns to eye her over his shoulder. "But if it makes you that ill, I suppose it is for the best if you don't touch it."

JENNA: * Jo tries a snort, staggering away from the sink and leaning against the doorway. "I think I'm okay now." She stumbles farther into the room, then sinks to the floor again, unable to find a better place to sit before her legs give way. After a moment of vacant staring, she touches her hand delicately to her head, hand coming away, to her surprise, with blood on it. She seems unsure what to do about it.

JUSTIN: * Shane is casually inspecting the rest of the room before turning back to her at the sound of her body reaching the floor. He blinks once, and squints to see what is on her hand -- then his eyes widen as he all at once remembers what he'd just talked to the receptionist about. "Oh, we'd better tend to that..." He quickly goes in search of the supplies he was told about, checking the bathroom first. "I hope they're only superficial wounds -- I only know basic first aid."

JENNA: * The bathroom, it appears, was a good place to look -- the kit is well-marked and in plain sight, along with plenty of towels and a couple of robes -- and a fairly enormous bathtub. Jo grimaces, fingers tangling in her hair, which is slightly matted with blood. This all seems very surreal somehow -- for the most part, she wants to lie down and sleep.

JUSTIN: * Shane fetches a few things -- the kit, a robe, a towel in case of a mess -- and stumbles back out the door, trying to ignore the protests of pain in his leg. "Here..." He practically falls down beside her, grunting at the impact, and sets the things out in front of him. Shaking fingers manage to get the kit open, and he starts pulling out anything that could possibly be of use. "Y-you may want to wash up, too. It simply won't do to get an infection."

JENNA: * Jo grimaces, swatting wearily at his hands before tugging a few things free on her own. "Your leg," she suggests irritably, pausing for a moment before she can pull together a complete sentence. "Worry.. about yourself, first." She grimaces, touching the wound once again, and slowly tries to push herself upright again. "I'll wash.. take care of it while I'm in there." She indicates her head, snatching the robe unsteadily as she goes. For a moment she isn't sure she can juggle bandages antiseptic, and that, but she manages, staggering into the doorframe as she goes.

JUSTIN: * Shane rises up on his knees to protest, but comes up empty. In the end, he has to admit that he can't do everything -- and he surely does not want to be in there while she cleans up. He huffs a sigh and falls back on his butt, stripping off his damp, and sandy coat before peeling his pant leg up to inspect his own wound again.

JENNA: * Back in the bathroom, Jo stairs faintly at the tub, dropping the robe on the floor before closing the door -- and leaning against it for several moments. Recovering, she strips off her clothing methodically, leaving it in a heap by the door as she slides over to the sunken bathtub, turning on the water and making sure the first aid kit is nearby. She lets the water go as hot as she can stand it, though she doesn't fill the tub particularly full, and sets about washing away salt, sand, and blood from her weary body.

JUSTIN: * Shane, meanwhile, goes about his business inspecting his leg. He's so far only determined it isn't broken, but as far as whether or not it's bleeding internally... well, he simply hopes it isn't. He sets about wrapping it with ointment, realizing he is going to need a cleaning of his own before too long. As his thoughts drift around, he manages to remember the warning about the meal cards, and hobbles about in search of them.

JENNA: * They're hanging on a hook next to the door, and there is doubtless a hook outside to hold a completed form. It's simple enough, just check off whatever you want to eat and drink. Jo has finally gotten around to cleaning her head wound, flinching as she does. She bites down on a small whimper as she washes the blood from her hair and applies the ointment, then carefully winds a bandage in place. That done, she sinks down for a moment, letting the hot water ease her aches and pains.

JUSTIN: * Completely unsure of what Jo would want to eat, Shane simply fills out two forms with two different meals, and determines to let her decide what she wants when they arrive. He leans against the frame of the door as he eases it open, locating the hook to hang his tickets, and wastes no time in disappearing into the room again. Looking around almost boredly for a moment, he eventually decides to slump down against the wall near the bathroom to wait, closing his eyes against a growing headache.

JENNA: * The water is cooling by the time Jo develops a will to move again, pleased to note that she doesn't wobble quite as much when she stands, and the headache has faded to a dull throb. She still, however, basically crawls from the tub, barely remembering to drain it before she wraps the robe around herself and gathers her clothes, pushing open the door to the other room and glancing around to locate Shane.

JUSTIN: * Shane has almost nodded off, but the noise of the nearby door opening causes him to jerk his head up in refusal of his weariness. He blinks his eyes a few times to readjust to the light, then glances up to see Jo in her robe, hair damp, but a bandage in place. "Feel any better?" His voice sounds like gravel.

JENNA: * She almost nods, but thinks better of it. "Yeah." She steps into the room, fumbling with a place to hang her still-damp clothing, then glances back at him. "All yours." Then, weary, she stumbles over to the hideous bed and sinks down onto it, deciding she stands a better chance of getting up again from there than from the floor.

JUSTIN: * Shane pushes himself to his feet with some awkwardness, halting for a moment to regather his strength before pressing on into the bathroom. "I'll be brief..." He stops at the door, turning as if in afterthought. "I left meal tickets outside... so we may get company." This out of the way, he retreats into the bathroom and closes the door, setting about removing the rest of his clothing and filling the bath with hot water.

JENNA: * Jo grunts noncommittally, too weary to respond in full, then casts her gaze about for something that could possibly keep her awake. It isn't long before she spies Shane's coat lying abandoned on the floor, and curiosity shortly overcomes her last shreds of politeness as she slides to the floor and wanders over to it, bending carefully to lift the thick fabric from the floor.

JUSTIN: * Shane inspects his leg before committing himself to the bath, removing the bandage and setting it aside so that he can give the wound a proper washing. He eases himself into the water, and every cut and bruise on his body stings for a few brief minutes as the soap and hot water soak in. He sighs, going about the business of washing up, unaware of what's going on just outside the door.

JENNA: * Jo toys with the coat a moment, quite uninterested in what's in most of its pockets, until she spies a heavy, silver object hanging just inside. Having never seen anything quite like it before, she tosses the coat on the bed and removes the object, turning it over in her hands in an attempt to figure out what it is. It appears to have a grip, at least, indicating it might be some kind of weapon, though the shape doesn't look as if it would be much good for bludgeoning.

JUSTIN: * Shane feels ten years younger by the time he's relieved himself of weeks of dirt, grime, and other unsavory things. The heat is relaxing, and soothing, and for the first time since snagging it in the railing, his leg isn't aching. Slouching into the water, he closes his eyes and breathes contentedly.

JENNA: * Jo continues her inspection of the weapon, making an educated guess that the small tab might just activate it -- though she isn't entirely sure what activating it would do. She turns it again, peering at the grip, and nearly drops it, hand clenching automatically around it to keep it from falling. Her finger squeezes that tab, and there's a sharp, cracking report. The weapon jumps in her hand, and she drops it like a live snake, stumbling several paces back in panic before she even notices the hole she's somehow made in the bathroom door.

JUSTIN: * Shane's ears are far more attuned to the sound of Juno's weaponry, and the sudden crack of ignited gun powder causes his eyes to fly open -- the sound of the steel ball bursting through the door and showering the inside of the room with wooden splinters sends him flying up out of the bathtub, falling all over himself. The bullet rolls across the floor with a clatter after ricocheting off the far wall, and Shane again nearly slips on it. Without thinking, he throws a towel around himself haphazardly and busts open the door to stare straight at Jo. His eyes widen even further if possible, and his cheeks go a distinct crimson before his gaping mouth formulates words. "What in the name of the GODS are you doing with my pistol?!" His voice rises at least two octaves by the time he finishes his sentence.

JENNA: * Jo, by now, has backed herself into the wall, staring at the gun with undisguised terror. Her gaze jerks to Shane when he enters the room, barely processing his bellow. "I -- I was just looking at it!" she yelps, still pressing her back as hard as she can against the wall. "It -- I --"

JUSTIN: * Shane just about vibrates with barely controlled rage, and he swoops over to grab his gun from where it lays, inspecting it briefly before throwing it onto his coat (which is conveniently laying on the bed nearby). His towel-clad self marches straight up to Jo, and his eyes shudder as he tries -- and fails -- to control himself. "Do you have ANY idea what you could have done with that?! You could have blown your head off! YOU NEARLY BLEW MY HEAD OFF!!"

JENNA: * Jo squeezes her eyes shut, flinching away from his tirade, and she scoots away along the wall, pressing her hands to her ears. "Shut up -- shut UP -- I didn't KNOW -- I've never seen one before!" She stumbles, hampering her attempted escape.

JUSTIN: * This doesn't seem to phase Shane in the least, as he follows her right along her path of retreat. "And if you'd kept your nose out of my things, you still wouldn't have seen one! I know you're a filthy THIEF, but after all that's happened today I would hope for some common respect for my goddamned things!!"

JENNA: * Jo's temper rises at the 'filthy thief' remark, briefly overcoming her panicked retreat. She draws herself up sharply, fists clenching at her sides. "I was just -- LOOKING. I wasn't going to take your stupid THINGS. It's not like you didn't go through my stuff, is it?!"

JUSTIN: "As a matter of fact, I didn't!" Shane raises a fist, but not at her. He practically slams it into the wall, an outlet as good as any. "Oh, sure, there was the temptation -- I'm a guard, and you're a crook, of course I was curious! But unlike you, I exercised something called restraint." His teeth grate together, making his enraged face look even more taught. "And if I found something that I didn't understand, I sure as hell wouldn't start toying with it!"

JENNA: * Jo jerks sharply away from his upraised fist, scooting over again when it strikes the wall. "How else are you supposed to find out but by looking at it?!" she snaps defensively, weak argument made weaker by a wobble in her voice and vision. She makes a weak shoving motion, trying again to escape.

JUSTIN: * Shane cocks his head to the side, apparently in disbelief at such a flimsy argument. "You have a voice! Is it only good for arguing and snide comments?! You could have asked me, and I'd have been happy to explain it to you!" He steps away from the wall, seemingly going to walk away from her before he spins around again, finding himself back in her face. "Maybe it would have done us both a favor if you'd blown your own hands off -- or maybe your pretty little head!"

JENNA: * Jo, having relaxed at his apparent departure, lurches back when he attacks once more, hard enough the back of her head strikes the wall, rattling her vision. She rallies, however, and tries a strike of her own. "MAYBE I -- I --" She falters badly, vision swimming, and finds herself swaying, legs seeming to fall from underneath her.

JUSTIN: "Maybe you'll what?!" Shane's burning eyes falter when his target begins to sway in and out of his line of sight, and he takes a hesitant step back. "You'll -- Jo?" His body is still shaking with adrenaline, but the tension is slowly draining out of his face as the focus of his anger goes suddenly quiet. "Jo, what... what are you doing?"

JENNA: * Though she hears him, her brain doesn't process his words, everything coming through garbled and indistinct. She tries to shake her head, but this only worsens the situation, sending her blurring vision nearly into blackness. She makes a snatch at Shane as she falls, pitching forward slightly, but she doesn't even graze him before she loses track of her own consciousness.

JUSTIN: * His anger and her trespasses momentarily forgotten, Shane lunges forward to catch the falling woman before she can reach the floor. Somewhere during this motion, his towel decides its had enough of him, however, and makes its way to floor. He saves her from falling, alright, but at a dear price -- and now he's stuck in a fairly troublesome position. He panics slightly, rushing Jo to the bed to deposit her thereon, and the struggle between whether to make sure she's alright and cover himself sends his cheeks red. As if to make matters worse, just at that moment a loud knock sounds from the door, followed by a muffled voice announcing that dinner has arrived.

JENNA: * Jo jerks back into half-awareness when he catches her, struggling against him very briefly before drifting out again. Once deposited on the bed, she doesn't move at all. The knock repeats itself, and a cheery, female voice calls. "Dinner! You didn't specify a time, so we're bringing it now -- sorry to interrupt anything, but you need to be more careful of that." She ends with a trill, sounding as if the line's been spoken many times in the past.

JUSTIN: * Shane squawks, quickly checking Jo's breathing and making sure her robe is closed with shaking hands, and then bolts for the bathroom to find another robe. "I won't be a minute!!" He cries, sounding unnecessarily scared. Throwing the airy garment around himself, he comes half-stumbling out of the bathroom to make for the door and open it. "W-we were doing nothing of the sort! You weren't interrupting anything!"

JENNA: * The girl gives him a knowing smile, winking as she pushes a tray into the room, two covered dishes resting on top of it. "Here's your orders, sir -- enjoy! Just leave the tray outside the door whenever you're done, and we'll take care of it!" With that, she turns and bounces out, shutting the door behind her. From the bed, Jo groans slightly, but she doesn't seem fully awake.

JUSTIN: * Shane startles at the groan, a coil of guilt winding in his stomach when he realizes how out of order his priorities were just moments before. He grabs the wheeled cart and angles it toward the side of the bed, leaving it there before circling around to inspect Jo. "What happened? Are you alright? Was it your head? Oh, it's my fault, isn't it? I should have held my temper..." The volume of his voice slowly deteriorates as he loses his breath.

JENNA: * Jo, in her dazed state, doesn't really respond, trying to push herself upright as her eyes remain stubbornly out of focus, and drumbeats seem to be pounding at the back of her skull. Her mouth opens as if to speak, but nothing comes out, so she closes it, concentrating on working herself into a sitting position. Her brain slowly processes his words, and she feels an uncommon sense of embarrassment wash over her, accompanied by a hint of shame.

JUSTIN: * Shane isn't sure what to do with himself, and the drafty sensation he feels in the robe isn't helping to settle his mind. "Our meals are here, perhaps some nourishment will help you along..." He fiddles with his hands for a moment before stepping around the bed to inspect the trays of food, accidentally burning himself on a hot plate. Before he can get far into his investigation, though, his leg violently reminds him of the injury he's been neglecting, and he practically falls backward onto the bed to relieve it of his weight. "Damnation!"

JENNA: * Jo, between waves of dizziness and renewed nausea, doesn't quite make it upright before collapsing again, almost in tears of frustration over her inability to move. She forces some measure of calm on herself, however, taking several deep breaths before scrubbing clumsily at her eyes with the back of her arm. After another moment of silence, arm still resting over her eyes, she mumbles, "Sorry.. about the gun," in the general direction of the ceiling. "I didn't mean to," follows the statement shortly.

JUSTIN: "I... I suppose I can forgive your mistake." Shane says, half distracted by his pain, and admittedly having almost forgotten the incident with his recent panic. When the pain in his leg subsides, he flops back with a sigh. "Juno produces many things that can be dangerous without the proper training, gunpowder least among them. You gave me a terrible fright, and... and I should have controlled my temper." He almost grumbles, hearing himself making peace with her somehow seems right, but also wrong at the same time. "At the least, I should hope it will keep you from going through my things for a while."

JENNA: * She rolls over to face in his direction, vision finally more in focus than out of. His lecturing tone sparks irritability, but she doesn't rise to take the bait, instead letting her gaze drift to the gaudy, pink bedspread. She's far too tired to start another argument. "I'm tired," she says after a moment, wishing vaguely she had something better to say. "Leave some food," is all she can think of.

JUSTIN: * Shane sits himself upright, looking to the trays of food and making some small noise of acknowledgement. "I suppose it would be pointless to insist you put something in your stomach before you sleep." He pulls the cart around in front of him to use it as a table, and picks at the food delicately, cautiously. Compared to what he'd been served on the ship, this was practically a feast -- so where to begin.

JENNA: * Jo simply watches him for several minutes, appearing comforted by the utter mundanity of the act, and before long, she's drifted off again, breathing quiet and steady.

JUSTIN: * Shane spends the next ten or fifteen minutes picking at his food and filling his stomach, certainly starving but somehow lacking in enthusiasm. Eventually his plate is left bare, and his weariness comes back to haunt him tenfold. He gets to his feet drowsily and manages to get the cart back outside the door, and draws the bolt after closing it. His intention is to finish dressing his wounds, perhaps clean his gun and his sword, all things he needs to do -- but he needs to sit down for a moment, let his stomach settle. He finds his way back to the ridiculously shaped bed and lowers his aching self down onto the comforter, rolling over onto his back. His eyes turn warily to the person slumbering not beyond arms reach away, and a strange shiver runs through him that spurs his gaze to the ceiling instead. Somewhere between then and his next thought, those eyes close. Moments later, and without warning, he finds himself fast asleep.