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Finn had, for whatever reason, picked the exact moment when he had known that Ripley wouldn't be in his room, to try out the key that he had been given for the first time. A part of him was dubious when he first tried out the lock, slipping the key into place, turning it and half expecting it to not budge an inch. But, low and behold, it turned, and with a soft click of the latch, Finn had gained entry into his former-friend-now-something-more's room, a place that he had been in before, but had he ever actually looked around or gotten a chance to explore?

No. And he wouldn't get to if Ripley was here. Don't mess with his things, that was the death intermediates amendment to the rule of being allowed entry in each others rooms at any time.

Well, Ripley wasn't here to stop him, and what he wouldn't know wasn't going to kill him, or worse, end their arrangement before it had time to really begin.

Closing the door and locking it behind him for good measure, after a check to make sure nobody was around, Finn began a careful search through Ripley's room that started at the dresser and ended at a set of shelves that held an assortment of books, as well as some alcohol along it's top shelf. His eyes scanned the titles, but save for a couple of books on anatomy and another about medical complications or something, nothing really stood out to him at all.

This room was so boring. So neat and organized and meticulous and clean.

It was so Ripley.

Finn liked it.

Without much thought towards the fact that taking one of Ripley's books might have constituted as messing with his s**t, Finn pulled out the one entitled "Atlas of the Human Body", before going to sit down on the bed, taking his boots off before climbing on top and sitting down with his back to the wall and his legs crossed at the heel, the book spread open on his lap as he began to pour over words with a narrowed eye. After about thirty minutes or so of this, and a bit of a headache combined with a sore eye later, Finn had nodded off, still sitting up, and with the book still on his lap.

Mystery Dungeon

Finn awoke with a start about an hour later, jerking up straight with a gasp of air and an eye that had flown open wide, roused by one of his many usual nightmares, though there was also a flash of panic that came from not recognizing the place he woke up in.

And then he remembered where he was, and while it still took a few long moments for his breathing to slow and his heart rate to subside, he slid to the edge of the bed in the meantime, and carefully placed the book back where he had found it, before smoothing out the wrinkles in Ripley's bed, and leaving, locking the door behind him once more.

The other man would never know he was even there.

------------

Finn stared down at the flash cards on his bed with a blank expression on his face. He had read the small note, recognized who's hand it was written in (or at least, highly suspected that he recognized it), and had set it back down while he considered this sudden, strange development, before accepting it with a small smile that nobody else would ever see.

-----------

Sometime within the next few days, Ripley would find a few additions to his room. A full, unopened bottle of Johnnie Walker black label scotch whiskey, several packs of cigarettes that were stacked neatly, labels up, in one of the top drawers of Ripley's dresser, and two new books added, alphabetically, to the shelf used for his books, "Complications: A Surgeon's Notes on an Imperfect Science" as well as "Better: A Surgeon's Notes on Performance."

The once completely mundane dungeon of a bedroom had been improved with some added swag.

....Or maybe it was just Finn's way of saying thank you.

Serenading

Ripley had just put his book down and was about to lay down for a small nap - as a certain someone had kept him up most of the night, and he was feeling like an old man - when the music started. At first, he thought it was meant for someone else. Some idiot who had just gotten the wrong window to sing to. He was content to try and ignore it, his brow twitching as he tried to tune the absolutely ridiculous song. But then he began to recognize the voice (and it occured to him that if he was right, this was the first time he had ever heard Finn sing), and finally, he heard it.

Ripples.

He really should have added a 'no stupid nicknames' clause.

Ripley sat up and opened his window with a great deal of restraint, glaring down at the top of Finn's head as he insisted on serenading him with a really dumb song that he had never heard before.

But instead of saying anything, he simply disappeared from the window, missing a couple lines of the serenade.

Moments later, Finn would then find one of his Surgeon books lobbed at his head, as if to suggest he had much better things to do with his time.

Serenading

It was perhaps fortunate for Finn that even off of the battlefield, Fear shields did wonders for staving off the pain of having an object thrown at your head. Ducking down with laugh that could not be held back, he reached over to pick up the book, which had landed partially open, with some of it's poor pages likely bent.

"Book abuse!" Finn accused with a shout back towards the window as he got to his feet and backed away with a cold grin.

Was he finished? Was he leaving?

Oh no. No he was not.

He stopped a few meters away from the window and continued on, louder of course, so Ripley could still hear him.

"Come along with me
To a town beside the sea
We can wander through the forest
And do so as we please.
Come along with me
To a cliff under a tree.
Where we'll gaze upon on the water
As an everlasting dream
All of my affections
I'll give them all to you---"

He paused only to see if Ripley would do anything about this.

Serenading

Finn didn't answer right away, strumming the guitar idly instead with a smirk, while he thought of the best way to respond to Ripley's question.

The answer was, of course, the simplest one. Ignore him, and he'd get bored and leave.

Eventually.

But assuming Ripley wanted more of an abrupt halt then that....

Finn just gave his head a small shake, his smirk turning into a large grin. "What are you offering to give me?"

Serenading

Internally, Ripley struggled with his response; it was between a continued relationship? and a legitimate offer, because he felt the utter need to never ever threaten termination over wanting to not be serenaded through a window while he tried to sleep. Instead, he looked down at that grinning, evil face, and offered a small smile.

"I think Ian left some Beef Jerky and a bag of M&Ms here. You can have that?" He omitted the fact that the beef jerky was extra spicy with added siracha.

Shh!

Finn pursed his lips together, stepping back again, latex gloved hands held up in front of him, fingers stained with blood from the head wound (though that had pretty much stopped now). "I said stop moving!" He snapped, more annoyed then he usually let on for some reason, inwardly grumbling over this entire situation. The Haunted House? Funny how some continued to come back from that place, almost always injured and in need of medical care, while Finn had never had such a problem with the place before.

Resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to learn to stitch up wounds on patients that refused to stop moving (but preferring if the person wasn't the man he was currently sleeping with on a regular basis), Finn grabbed for the lidocaine mixed with bupivacaine injection resting on the metal tray he'd set down at the end of the bed, before moving to inject it appropriately near the wound, now that it had been cleaned.

"This might pinch a li---" He began, halting when Ripley called him cute.

Somebodies drugs were kicking in.

"Just kinda?" Finn mused, feeling some of the tension in his shoulders ease along with his irritation, as he went ahead and did the injection anyways, numbing the skin around the wound to prepare it for stitches.

Nearby, one of life's medical professionals was overseeing, but so far had made no comment.

Shh!

"Yeah." Ripley agreed, forgetting that he probably shouldn't nod. Instead he stared down at his gloved hands, squinting to both see and understand...

Before he knew it, it was the next day. His head throbbed only slightly now that Wilhelm was operational again, but his hair was still temporarily stained with his own blood. Fantastic.


----

Serenading

"And beef jerky." He added as if it would help, but alas, it did not. Instead of taking the offered treats and leaving, he stepped closer, and started singing again.

"What if I asked nicely?" The Pale man continued to lean on the windowsill, looking down at his currently very, very annoying boything. "You can bother me later, I just want to take a nap."