Participants:
| Scene Title | Safe In Your Sleep |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Elaine returns from her trip to the past, but doesn't go straight home. |
| Date | September 16, 2010 |
Gun Hill: Quinn's Flat
It’s been an odd last few days for Quinn, stepping into Elaine’s shoes – in a manner of speaking – to keep an eye over Magnes. But today, today she desires something very specific, something she can’t get anywhere besides her own apartment.
Tonight, Quinn just wants to sleep in her own bed, instead of on a sofa.
She’ll go back to Magnes’ tomorrow, and if he manages to run off between when she went to the auction, and when she gets back, she’ll take full responsibility for that. She’s only been home from the auction a short time, busying herself with putting together a vegetable stirfry and letting it simmer while she changes clothes. Reemerging from her room in a loose gray t-shirt and a pair of short black shorts, her dinner is taken off the stove and poured into a bowl, destination: couch. It’s time to kill a few hours until bed.
It's then that the door opens. Elaine steps inside, though she pauses when she sees Quinn's there. Oh. She'd actually hoped to get in before the Irish woman. "Don't mind me, I'm just gonna borrow a shirt!" The redhead barrels for the bedroom. She's got a blood-smattered shirt she doesn't want to show up at home wearing. She's hoping, just hoping, she can move quickly enough that even Quinn won't have to see the blood, but considering the vantage point on the couch… she'd likely not escape unquestioned.
There’s a fork entering Quinn’s mouth when Elaine enters, and it just kind of hangs there as she stares at the open door, blinking. For a moment, she’s forgotten that not only does Elaine have “enter anytime” permission, but also a key. The redhead’s entrance is sudden enough that Quinn is left at a brief loss for words, eyes just sort of following Elaine back to her room.
Of course, then the fact that she was covered in something registers, and the fork falls from Quinn’s mouth as she begins to speak, muffled through the food in her mouth. “Efain-“ A pause, a swallow, and the Irishwoman hops up from her seat, a brisk pace back towards teh bedroom. “Elaine! When they hell did you get back?” She sounds both pleased and confused, hands slipping into her pockets as she stops at the door frame. “What’d, you spill ketchup on your shirt on the way back in?”
Wait, that’s too much to be ketchup…
The shirt she's wearing is shrugged off quickly, then balled up and shoved under an arm. Hopefully it didn't look too blood-spattered. She has no time to look for a new shirt when Quinn appears behind her. Elaine offers her a smile. "Sorry, I just look a bit of a mess. You don't mind if I borrow one, do you?" While she's hiding the shirt a bit, the bruises on her body are now the visible evidence of the redhead's interesting "business trip".
Quinn eyes the shirt carefully – for once, her eyes not lingering on Elaine. “I can throw it in the wash if you want,” she offers, before finally her attention does turn to her friend. Eyes narrow, and her head tilts as she notices the bruises. “Jesus, Elaine,” Quinn intones as takes a step forward, peering at the bruises. This time, she’s smart enough not to poke them, but her hand does find an undamaged spot on Elaine’s side. “Did you fall down a flight of stairs or something? You look like you could use an ice pack.” As she speaks, a hand reaches out for the shirt, ready to go throw it in the wash.
"It's a crappy t-shirt anyways, I'll just toss it. Too hard to get stains out." Elaine holds onto the shirt. "No need to bother. And honestly, I'm fine, just a bit of whiplash… there was a bus accident that I was on, a few of us got pretty shaken up."
Quinn’s not suspicious yet, but she doesn’t entirely feel that adequate explanation. She takes a step closer to Elaine and wraps arms around her, gingerly pulling her close. “Christ, that sucks. When the hell did that happen? An’ are you sure you’re okay, don’t need t’ go by the hospital or anythin’?” A kiss is placed on the redhead’s cheek, and then eyes cast down to the red-stained t-shirt. “Please. No need t’ throw away a shirt without tryin’ t’ save it. Hell, maybe it’ll come out lookin’ all pink and cute. How do you think I never have t’ buy new clothes?” Even as she speaks, she’s reaching out to grab it, successful enough to pull it from Elaine’s grasp, but not strong enough to keep hold of it, sending it falling to the floor.
But long enough to get a hold enough to realise that it’s both still a little wet, and doesn’t feel or smell like ketchup. Quinn’s eyes move back up to Elaine, and she quirks an eyebrow.
Elaine looks from Quinn down to the shirt on the floor. She moves to snatch it up. "Really, I hate stains, I'll just buy a new one. It's not important." She shakes her head quickly. "I'm fine, Quinn, not hurt at all. Happened earlier today… on my way back." She peers over. "So how have things been while I've been gone?" She's trying to slide from one thing to the next, hoping that Quinn won't try and put too many pieces together. The redhead pauses. Shit. She doesn't even know what day it is for sure.
Now Quinn is sure something’s up. She doesn’t reach to snatch up the shirt when Elaine does so, instead she releases her arms from around the redhead and steps back, hands moving to her hips, elbows out like she’s an angry parent about to lecture her child. “Okay, for real, Elaine? It’s just a shirt. What’s the big deal. If somethin’s wrong, you can tell me. Your secret boyfriend split wine on it or somethin’?” Wine? She raises her fingers and smells. Definitely not wine. A pause. “Maybe movin’ out, an’ stayin’ at your place t’ watch Magnes, that’s what I’ve been up t’. But I wanna know what’s up, first.”
"Magnes, fuck…" Elaine murmurs, letting out a breath. "He's okay, isn't he?" She moves, uncertain if she should just throw the shirt in a trash can when Quinn might just look at it anyways. "What do you mean, moving out?" She deflects, trying to get Quinn to talk about her stuff first.
Quinn grits her teeth. But… fine, this is clearly something Elaine doesn’t want to talk about, she’ll let it lie. In fact, she moves over a chest of draws, pulling out a shirt for Elaine. “I’d rather you not wear a shirt,” she quips, looking back with a grin. “But if you want, here you go,” she continues, offering up to Elaine. “Magnes is… fine as he has been. He was still around when I left for the auction I went to this evening. I’ve spent the last few nights over there, so I could keep an eye on him like you asked.”
A hand – not the one that held the shirt, Quinn’s still not sure what that is on her hand – runs through her hair, Quinn letting out a sigh. “Ferry stuff, t’ be honest. I haven’t had the chance t’ talk t’ Sable, or Colette, or Tasha, or Lynette about it, but apparently it’s going t’ be kinda dangerous t’ live here.” She doesn’t elaborate – she probably said too much to Elaine as it is.
The shirt is put on, and Elaine purses her lips. "Get out, then." She murmurs, glancing towards the door before she moves to the waste basket, just chucking the shirt in there. She's not got the energy to have a fight over a shirt. "Did you wanna stay in here or go back to the couch in there? Anyways, if it's dangerous, move. There's no point in putting yourself into a dangerous situation for no reason." She lets out a weary sigh.
If Quinn were a person ruled more by her Id, she would have a somewhat baleful retort to that, though more at someone else’s expense than Elaine’s. Instead she just looks taken aback, staring at Elaine for several moments. “G-Get out?” she repeats in a questioning tone, moving to the edge of her bed and sitting down, peering at Elaine. “That is about the last thing I expected t’ hear from you, t’ be honest, Elaine.” Unexpected enough that it’s rooted her down on her bed. She peers at Elaine again, motioning her over. There’s a brief moment of silence, and her head tilts. “I’m only going t’ ask one more time, then I’ll let it go. You sure you’re okay, Elaine? I’ve never seen you say somethin’ like that so readily.”
"I just went to hell and back again." Elaine murmurs, flopping down on Quinn's bed and staring up at the ceiling. "I… need to see Sable. But not yet. I don't…" She trails off. "Do you mind if I stay here, tonight, Quinn?"
“I- what?” Quinn turns to face Elaine as she lays down, a worried expression on her face as she watches Elaine for a moment, before reaching out and placing a hand on her friend’s cheek. “T’ hell an’ back? What the hell happened while you were away?” A pause, and Quinn shakes her head. “Actually… you don’t have t’ talk about it you don’t want t’. I’ll be here either way.” And then she grins a little. “You can stay as long as you need t’, Elaine. Should I text Magnes, at least?”
"No. I didn't tell him when I'm coming back, so it doesn't matter when I do. I'll see him when I'm in a position to deal with things better." Elaine moves, slipping her arms around Quinn. "I don't know that I can explain it, now." She lets out a slow breath. "I… ask me about it later."
That just makes Quinn’s worried expression grow, the Irishwoman laying back and sliding over as Elaine wraps arms around her. Quinn repeats the same motion, holding Elaine close. A kiss is placed on the taller woman’s forehead and a cheek nuzzled. “If you’re up for it I will. But whatever happened, forget about it for now. You’re here, with me, an’ you’re safe from whatever happened.”
"Safe," Elaine murmurs. "Everyone's safe." She leans in against Quinn, resting her head in against the Irishwoman's shoulder. She breathes deeply, and it's only evident moments later that she's asleep. Out like a light.
It takes about that long for Quinn to notice, having remained silent, running a hand repeatedly through Elaine’s hair. As she realises the younger girl is out, she smiles, slowing her motion until finally her hand comes to rest on the back of Elaine’s head, pulling her even closer. Quinn hadn’t intended to go to bed yet, and she still has food sitting out in the den. But none of that matters at the moment.
All that matters is that Elaine is safe, from whatever it is that troubles her.