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What if the elevator broke and we would stick in here?
[That red button was made to stop the elevator in special cases, wasn't it?]
[That red button was made to stop the elevator in special cases, wasn't it?]
[If she were drunk, this would certainly be her first time. But she's not drunk, that's silly. The room's just acquired spinning walls and her head has a bright heat to it and her arms are all fuzzy, that doesn't mean anything. But where's Cynric, he said he'd come get hER WOW HE TELEPORTED.]
You're here! [It might be slurred, but there's no mistaking her excitement, no missing that grin. Even if it's pointing at the floor periodically as she forgets her head needs to be held up.
And then she leans in, close. Closer. Too close -- she's possibly knocked their skulls together. Possibly just dented her own forehead on a pointy elbow of his.] Look! [Look where? A few seconds later he remembers to point, pride on her face. She's cuddling two beers up against her chest in one hand.] They're safe!
You're here! [It might be slurred, but there's no mistaking her excitement, no missing that grin. Even if it's pointing at the floor periodically as she forgets her head needs to be held up.
And then she leans in, close. Closer. Too close -- she's possibly knocked their skulls together. Possibly just dented her own forehead on a pointy elbow of his.] Look! [Look where? A few seconds later he remembers to point, pride on her face. She's cuddling two beers up against her chest in one hand.] They're safe!
[Oh snowflake monk angel. Oh sweet honey baby flower. Oh Cynric has so much to teach you about how to appear sober.
But a head-bonk is a small sacrifice to make for getting an arm firm around her. Apparently he is the sober monitor between them. (Ridiculous.) And apparently she brings out intensely protective instincts in him which require him to keep her upright. (R i d i c u l o u s.)]
Well done, dearheart. [So well done. He would just be taking those bottles now, please and thank you.] You'll be awarded a medal.
But a head-bonk is a small sacrifice to make for getting an arm firm around her. Apparently he is the sober monitor between them. (Ridiculous.) And apparently she brings out intensely protective instincts in him which require him to keep her upright. (R i d i c u l o u s.)]
Well done, dearheart. [So well done. He would just be taking those bottles now, please and thank you.] You'll be awarded a medal.
[The nicknames started strange and got stranger. He should probably try out a few of them aloud, see the reaction that gets. Probably either a fist or laughter fit to bring both of them tumbling to the floor.
The fact of them entanglement is slowly dawning on her. Lee is gradually aware of the fact that they're, clearly, cuddling. So if she then tries to burrow her head in the nearest pocket of space, he surely understands. Why else would they be so close and arm-wrapping?
Protective instincts are the epitome of ridiculous. But if Cynric's hoping she'll forget by morning, well - time will tell.]
I did well. [Sing-song voice as she turns into him for a clumsy hug, pointing her feet in entirely the wrong direction for getting her walking alongside him. But he's praising her freely and did he really expect a different reaction?] Don't care about medals jus' uh. If I did good.
[Actually, 'sweet baby honey flower' is probably a surprisingly fair analysis of her mental state, somehow.]
The fact of them entanglement is slowly dawning on her. Lee is gradually aware of the fact that they're, clearly, cuddling. So if she then tries to burrow her head in the nearest pocket of space, he surely understands. Why else would they be so close and arm-wrapping?
Protective instincts are the epitome of ridiculous. But if Cynric's hoping she'll forget by morning, well - time will tell.]
I did well. [Sing-song voice as she turns into him for a clumsy hug, pointing her feet in entirely the wrong direction for getting her walking alongside him. But he's praising her freely and did he really expect a different reaction?] Don't care about medals jus' uh. If I did good.
[Actually, 'sweet baby honey flower' is probably a surprisingly fair analysis of her mental state, somehow.]
She hums her agreement as she gets his arm settled around her shoulders, leaning into him a bit to help hold him up. "Totally morbid. My people are good at that." Catholics and their odd rituals.
"But yes, let's get you home. Come on. " As always, those two words are less a direction and more a prompt that they're about to start moving. She steers him slowly toward the door, patient, letting him show her how much holding up he'll need.
"But yes, let's get you home. Come on. " As always, those two words are less a direction and more a prompt that they're about to start moving. She steers him slowly toward the door, patient, letting him show her how much holding up he'll need.
[His nicknameification is always spot on of something or other--either for being entirely correct, or for being exactly what will get him slapped in the face. Right now? He's going for entirely correct.
Although still largely only in his own mind.
Having her curl into him is a fine, fair thing. It does mean standing still, apparently, but that's not so bad. Gives him more time to entirely extract the bottles and set them down on the nearest stair without throwing off their rickety balance.]
You did very good, Lee. Absolutely. And you're going to do a good job warning me when you want t' hurl, aye?
Although still largely only in his own mind.
Having her curl into him is a fine, fair thing. It does mean standing still, apparently, but that's not so bad. Gives him more time to entirely extract the bottles and set them down on the nearest stair without throwing off their rickety balance.]
You did very good, Lee. Absolutely. And you're going to do a good job warning me when you want t' hurl, aye?
I don't ever want to hurl! [You idiot, Cynric! She's shaking with laughter at the very notion. Surely he means if she doesn't want to hurl but feels the urge incoming and--
DID SHE DROP THE BEER? IT'S NOT IN HER HANDS oh good look it's on the stairs. More giggling in relief and confusion and confused relief and oh, wow, being not-drunk-in-the-least is shaping up to be potentially exhausting.] You're ridiculous.
DID SHE DROP THE BEER? IT'S NOT IN HER HANDS oh good look it's on the stairs. More giggling in relief and confusion and confused relief and oh, wow, being not-drunk-in-the-least is shaping up to be potentially exhausting.] You're ridiculous.
"I like home."
He likes the fact that they both say 'home' about the same place, no matter how often he slinks back to the apartment he's still paying rent on to visit his instruments. That's what's actually got him grinning as he smacks a pleased kiss against her cheek.
"I like you."
He likes the fact that they both say 'home' about the same place, no matter how often he slinks back to the apartment he's still paying rent on to visit his instruments. That's what's actually got him grinning as he smacks a pleased kiss against her cheek.
"I like you."
"Well. That works out nicely, seeing as I like you, too."
And she likes hearing him say home, likes understanding that they are talking about the same place. And the same idea, the two of them there together.
There's a bit of maneuvering to get them both out the door and into the sidewalk. It's not far, just a couple of blocks, and they'll be home.
"I like having you home with me."
And she likes hearing him say home, likes understanding that they are talking about the same place. And the same idea, the two of them there together.
There's a bit of maneuvering to get them both out the door and into the sidewalk. It's not far, just a couple of blocks, and they'll be home.
"I like having you home with me."
At least he's a dancer. It makes him somewhat lighter on his feet than many entirely sluggish drunks.
It also means that getting out the door is absolutely going to turn into a bit of a spin, but that's hardly the worst fate in the world.
"Let's keep it up, then."
It also means that getting out the door is absolutely going to turn into a bit of a spin, but that's hardly the worst fate in the world.
"Let's keep it up, then."
He's certainly lighter on his feet than any drunks he's helped up to their front door. She vaguely remember needing to be held up rather firmly as he guided her up the stairs once.
She holds on a little tighter all the same as he spins them, just in case. But he seems all right. She tugs gently, resettling him against her side.
"You've got yourself a deal."
She holds on a little tighter all the same as he spins them, just in case. But he seems all right. She tugs gently, resettling him against her side.
"You've got yourself a deal."
[Giggling ahoy. Happily accepting the forehead kiss with a distracted sigh is a-go as well.
But bedtime? Sir. Master Cynric the unflinchingly nonsensical, please.]
But what about the roof? 'M not tired... [So convincing when she yawns at the mere suggestion of being tired.]
...are there beds here? Whose house is this again? [Parties, how do they work.]
But bedtime? Sir. Master Cynric the unflinchingly nonsensical, please.]
But what about the roof? 'M not tired... [So convincing when she yawns at the mere suggestion of being tired.]
...are there beds here? Whose house is this again? [Parties, how do they work.]
Good. Absolutely good. Absolutely good that they're making this deal--absolutely good that he's getting settled back in against her again where he can press another sloppy kiss against her cheek.
"Holding you to it. Not forgetting."
In the steel trap, in spite of the drunkneness.
"Holding you to it. Not forgetting."
In the steel trap, in spite of the drunkneness.
"Good, because I'm not forgetting, either."
He may be drunk and they may be out in the middle of the sidewalk just past the neighborhood bar, on their way home, but this is important. Just because it may have started as a tease, in jest, doesn't make it untrue.
"It's your home too." Her arm tightens around him. "Our home. I want you there."
He may be drunk and they may be out in the middle of the sidewalk just past the neighborhood bar, on their way home, but this is important. Just because it may have started as a tease, in jest, doesn't make it untrue.
"It's your home too." Her arm tightens around him. "Our home. I want you there."
Don't you trust me, dearheart?
[He's got her. He's got her in the immediate physical sense. He's got her in the finding a safe place to fall asleep and guarding her like a vicious watchdog against anyone who dares interrupt her resting.
He's got her and he's got both the beers because he's a goddamn half-drunk magician.] C'mon. One foot in front of the other.
[He's got her. He's got her in the immediate physical sense. He's got her in the finding a safe place to fall asleep and guarding her like a vicious watchdog against anyone who dares interrupt her resting.
He's got her and he's got both the beers because he's a goddamn half-drunk magician.] C'mon. One foot in front of the other.
I could take naps while sit on your lap...
[The elevator stops. Apacci looks at her knight in love with the snacks.]
I want the naps, too.
[The elevator stops. Apacci looks at her knight in love with the snacks.]
I want the naps, too.
[That sort of protection is something Lee would deny needing. Aggressively. And yet it's also something that she'd enjoy, were it shared, even if she perhaps needs several more weeks/months/years to fully realize it. Protecting and being protected are lovely things to give and receive. It's just hard to learn, sometimes, that there's no shame in the receiving.
But now's not the time for philosophy, although it might accidentally be one of deeply personal moments, because Lee can barely stand on her own and she's clinging to Cynric's jacket to stay up. Thank goodness he saw ahead enough to hook an arm around her.] 'Course I trust you.
[And she'll follow along the half-drunk magician for a few beats, because the trust - sober or drunken - is strong. A few pulses of the warbling heat in her face.]
Cynric-- Cynric? Cyyyyynnnnriiiiiic, can you-- can you, uh--
Can. Can you-- Cynric are you paying attention.
[If she was quiet long enough for him to answer, she'd probably have better results right now. The vibration of her voice feels different now, you'll have to excuse her. (Or not. You probably shouldn't.)]
But now's not the time for philosophy, although it might accidentally be one of deeply personal moments, because Lee can barely stand on her own and she's clinging to Cynric's jacket to stay up. Thank goodness he saw ahead enough to hook an arm around her.] 'Course I trust you.
[And she'll follow along the half-drunk magician for a few beats, because the trust - sober or drunken - is strong. A few pulses of the warbling heat in her face.]
Cynric-- Cynric? Cyyyyynnnnriiiiiic, can you-- can you, uh--
Can. Can you-- Cynric are you paying attention.
[If she was quiet long enough for him to answer, she'd probably have better results right now. The vibration of her voice feels different now, you'll have to excuse her. (Or not. You probably shouldn't.)]
[Horatio will placidly allow any and all hugging that prevents Cynric from toppling into the icy depths of the dock. In fact, he even goes so far as to carefully wind his arm around Cynric's waist, to guide him towards the gangplank.]
I do have some coffee. Some very nice coffee indeed, actually, and fresh cream...
[The coffee is nice, but the bit about the cream is a lie. He's just really hoping Cynric can be distracted from the promise of more rum.]
I do have some coffee. Some very nice coffee indeed, actually, and fresh cream...
[The coffee is nice, but the bit about the cream is a lie. He's just really hoping Cynric can be distracted from the promise of more rum.]
"Our home."
It tastes right on his lips. Yes, he's sloshed into a state of being unable to get himself there properly, but that's only got him in a place where it's easier to admit what's true.
That it's not her apartment. Not really. It's theirs, and that's a good thing.
It tastes right on his lips. Yes, he's sloshed into a state of being unable to get himself there properly, but that's only got him in a place where it's easier to admit what's true.
That it's not her apartment. Not really. It's theirs, and that's a good thing.
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