Liquid Courage

Participants:

brian2_icon.gif veronica_icon.gif

Scene Title Liquid Courage
Synopsis Brian wants to celebrate their "victory" on the Case case so the two agents have a little party
Date March 20, 2009

Dorchester Towers - Veronica's Apartment,

Minimalist and modern without being too much like a mausoleum, this apartment is one large room — wherever one stands, one can see the other "rooms." The kitchen is sleek with black lacquer and stainless steel. The living room boasts a comfortable white faux-suede couch with black throw pillows, a black walnut coffee table, and a large plasma screen television. A black entertainment center holds many DVDs and CDs, an Ipod docking station and surround sound. The dining room is simply a black walnut table with six high-back chairs. A small hallway leads to a single large bedroom with a King-sized bed and simple white down comforter with more black walnut furniture. A bathroom in the hallway is simple — a large shower, a vanity sink, a toilet — the basics.


So much for taking it easy. Due to her injury on Monday night, Veronica was supposed to take the rest of the week off. What occurred instead was taking a couple of days off, then helping Kat out on a case, and then typing up reports all day in the facility on Friday. Winters and Sawyer have not really talked or even seen one another since Brian handled most of the administrative duties of bringing Case into custody, and Vee was sent off for X-rays to ensure that the ribs she'd broken were simple breaks, and were not going to result in a punctured lung or worse.

The two have simply missed one another, coming and going, since neither had a case specifically assigned to them. Vee's come in to find Brian sleeping on the couch, and tip toed past him for her own bed, only to wake up and find him gone the next morning.

Today, apparently Veronica is in for the day, lounging in a pair of black sweat pants and a pink tank top, her bare feet propped on the arm of the couch when Brian enters the apartment. Her prescription bottle of pain pills is on the coffee table next to a glass of water, and the television is playing My Fair Lady. Veronica glances up with sleepy-looking dark eyes as the door opens. "The return of the prodigal agent," she says a little lamely, but not without affection.

"Hey baby." Brian responds, his tone also a little dull but affection present all the same. Unlike her, he's completely unscathed from the big showdown the other day. Not a scratch. So he's been doing all the Agent-y things. And is still dressed in his suit. Black jacket, and his white shirt, with no tie. Which Veronica may be figuring out by now that it's just because he doesn't know how to tie a tie. Regardless, the door shuts behind him crisply as he drops his black bag by the counter and makes his way over to the couch.

A glance back at the TV makes his lips curl downward in disapproval. Musical. Ew. But his smile slowly slides back into place when his attention is returned to her. "Hi." He murmurs, this time the affection outweighs the dull tone in his voice. Plopping heavily onto the couch next to her, his arm goes to snake around her immediately. "So. What now?"

There's a slight wince as he flops down — the jostling jarring those three broken ribs a bit. Of course, that might be because she didn't give herself the full recovery time before going out into the world. "Nothing too
new. Hear anything while you were working?" she asks, as she hands him the remote control, having noticed his facial expression at the movie. "You can change the channel," she says with amusement. "Though a little culture would
be good for you," she adds, her dimples showing as she smiles.

Noticing the wince, Brian frowns a bit. "Sorry." He murmurs, leaning in some to lightly rest his head on her shoulder, a token of his apology, or something like that. Straightening back up, "Only that we're awesome." Brian says with a little smile. Though he shakes his head at the TV. "If this is what you want to watch, this is what we'll watch." He gives a nod as if that was that and there was no changing it. "I mean, what happens to us? You've been in this game longer than me. Are we still partners now? Or were we only partners for that assignment? What's gonna happen?"

Veronica shakes her head at his question. "I think we're still partners. It wasn't just for the one case," she says. "Speaking of which…" she coughs a little for a moment's stall, then continues. "You really saved… well, everyone's neck in there. I knew I should have shot instead of warned Ye but that criminal justice training is still in the back of my brain — give people a chance to comply. If we hadn't had you and your little army along…" she shakes her head and sighs. "So what I mean to say is thanks." She blushes a little, and looks up at the television to avoid his direct gaze.

Brian smiles a little bit at the blush watching her closely. "Aww, are you embarrassed?" Winters asks, with a somewhat baby voice. Like an annoying aunt pestering her niece. A broad grin is painted on his features as he watches her. "Saved by copy-boy, once again." His grin starts to fade as he rubs his head against her shoulder a little before straightening. "Anything for you, Vee. You would have done the same for me. So, don't worry about it."

She chuckles but doesn't quite say anything to that last — sure, she'd have tried to save the day, get the bad guys, get her partner out alive. She tilts her head to rest her soft lips against his forehead and kisses him lightly there. It's not a condescending gesture, not a metaphorical pat on the head, but a sincere token of something like affection. "Don't say anything for me. You need to look out for yourself too. Sometimes it's best to leave the partner behind if you have to — and if that time comes, I expect you to do it… if it's what's right for the case."

A smile curls up his lips as she kisses him, he lets out a little laugh at her. "That's what I have more than one body for. I'll always look out for you." He murmurs, looking up to her, he leans forward to plant his own little kiss on her cheek. "Now shutup. You're making me miss My Fair Lady. I fucking love this shit."

Her cheek is warm under his lips; she's blushing again and she laughs at his outright lie regarding the musical. She lets her legs drape over his lap and snuggles against him, her eyes returning to the television to watch
Audrey Hepburn dance about as Eliza Doolittle. "I said you can change it. It happened to be on TV, and I always liked it, even if I thought she was an idiot for staying with the misogynist pig in the end," she points out, reaching for her glass of water and barely reaching it with her fingertips, but managing to bring it closer without spilling any.

Putting one arm over her legs, his other goes around her back, pulling her into him a little. "I don't want to. I told you. This is like my favorite. I loooove musicals." He says with a grin. Though he gives her a strange look as she explains what's happening, obviously not knowing what happens in the movie. One hand darts up to try and help her with securing the water, though it drops back down soon enough. "So, Case is our first victory right? That means our record is one and oh. Makes me feel all special and what not."

Veronica lets herself be cuddled — stranger things have happened, but it's still strange. She's apparently in a people-person mood today. "Yeah," she says with a smile. "Your first case, a success. Good job. And like I said… you saved the day. Chang Ye'd incapacitated the rest of us… the cops, the feds, everyone. Good work, partner." She ruffles his hair lightly. Her own hair is back to its natural brown, the auburn rinsed out. "Did you hear about those kids? Sad huh?"

"Like I said it's no—" And as she ruffles his hair, "I know the type of man you can be, I'd like to see that man again." His eyes go distant once again, a sensation he should be used to by now. But he's not. Memories. Unwelcome memories. Some blonde girl ruffling his hair, his jaw goes slack for a moment as his eyes dart up to Veronica's gaze. And for a moment he looks confused as if he hadn't been following the conversation. "Uh, yeah." He responds, though he's not totally sure what he is responding too.

She frowns as he zones out on her, now that she knows the signs of it. "You okay? You're not going into some sort of … when he tried to get in your head again, are you? Or is it a memory?" she asks, wondering what triggered it. After all, they're in this apartment, a place he's never been before.

"Memory." Brian says before shaking his head. "No big deal." He gives a little shrug as if brushing it off. "So uh. Are we gonna celebrate or what?" He asks with a little smile. "Go get drunk, do things we both regret later?" He tilts his head as if those things are something she would really want to do.

She looks more concerned as he tries to brush it off. "All right. Let me know, though… no secrets… if it gets worse. Or if you think he is getting any of your thoughts," she says. "I don't know how it all works, but you know. I need to know if it's going to be a potential problem." She ignores the other suggestion for the moment. She sets down her water and brings up her hand to his face, brushing his cheek with icy fingertips. "And because I care."

"No.. Just one of those dream memory thingies." Brian reports back, though his smile completely disappears when her fingers brush his cheek. His breath catching for a moment. Swallowing hard, he pulls back a little. "Okay." He says softly in reply, "Well anyway. Answer me. Are we going to celebrate, or what?"

Her lips quirk back into a smile, dimples flashing. "Sure. We can celebrate. You wanna go out, or what?" she asks, stretching one foot back out to rest the heel on the arm of the couch on the far side of him. "Where do you want to go?" she asks, letting her hand drop away from his cheek and around the back of the couch.

"I don't know. Are you okay with going out? Or are you too fragile? I could just go pick up a bunch of booze and we could have a crazy party right in here." He offers with a smile. "Or something else. I don't know. Whatever, I just want to be with you. Haven't seen you in a couple days." Winters says, titling his head over at her. "I missed you." He gives a weak smile as her hand drops, his own shooting out to catch it just for a moment, and give it a little squueze.

Vee laughs and winces very slightly. "I'm not fragile," she says with a shake of her head. "We can go out. Or stay in. Either way. Might be good to see something besides this apartment and the facility and Chinatown," she says with a smirk. "You better not try anything like drinking 3 shots, then going to the bathroom to replicate so a nice and sober version of you can drink me under the table, though." She winks.

"I would never." He might. Though he shakes his head, "Replicates are like the original me. If I copy when I'm drunk the copy is drunk. I could hide a few of me in the bathroom though. Good idea." He grins over at her, his hand going to rest on her leg as he tilts his head back into the couch.

She frowns at this and thinks about it. "What happens to them? Like… the three you made for Monday night. What happens to them, when you're done?" she asks, her pretty face furrowed as she thinks about it. "What happens to them? They don't just… melt, like mine did, when Case transferred your power to me."

His lips tug into a frown. He doesn't like to think about when Case transferred the power. "I just… take them." He gives a shrug. "Touch, and I come back into myself. Like I never happened." He gives a little shrug. He gives a little grin, one hand raising up to give her cheek a little pinch. "You rest up, I'll go get us some booze and food and stuff and we'll have a little party."

Veronica nods. "That's good. I wouldn't… want them to just… be gotten rid of." She's tentative, now that her potential life was saved by the trio of copycats. "All right. We can do that. And I'll even let you pick out the next movie we watch," she says with a grin. She pulls her feet off the couch so that he can escape, swinging them to the floor so she's actually sitting upright.

Starting to get up he gives a chuckle when she says he can choose the movie. Though he pauses in his ascent, his eyes wandering over to her as he sits on the edge of his seat. "Sounds good." But then he leans forward once again, to plant another kiss on her cheek. This time slower, and more tender. Closing his eyes while he does, the flash open as he breaks away from her cheek, letting out a slow breath. "Ooohkay." He lets out, leaning forward once again to get up.

Danger, Will Robinson! Alarms go off. They're much too sober for that kind of intimacy. She laughs and pushes him a bit to get him to stand the rest of the way. "All right. I'm going to go shower while you're out. Takes me fifteen minutes to untape the ribs and another fifteen to tape them back up. You'd really figure the Company would have healers for us or something." They likely do, but probably only for more threatening injuries. She stands and heads to the bathroom. "Get some of that flavored vodka or something," she calls, "or maybe tequila."

*

The door clicks open as Winters backs in through the doorway. His hands are full, two large paperbags in each hand, and a bottle of coke tucked under one arm. Slipping in, the young man turns to kick the door behind him. Staggering over to the counter, it takes some careful maneuvering to manage to get the bags and the bottle on the counter. But finally he manages it before returning to the door to lock it. He got a lot of alcohol. Hopefully it will be enough to make both of them forget about his stupid mistake before he left.

"Vee." He calls out as he shrugs off his coat, "I'm back." He says going to toss the jacket onto the couch. Then turns to the bags to begin to unload everything. Chips and dip, coke, and the things she asked for, tequila, vodka. And then some things he liked. Weaker things, but stuff that tastes good. Those Smirnoff thingies. Setting the things out he begins to sing to himself quietly, absent mindedly.

"…Such a marvelous night for a moondance."

Vee comes out of the bedroom, fresh from the shower. She has gotten rid of the lounge pants for a pair of girl boxers — hot pink and green stripes with the word "Pink" on the butt, apparently from Victoria's Secret. She has the same pink tank top on, but it's half tugged up as she steps into the living room, her hands winding sports tape around her ribcage. Her long hair is damp and held back from her face in a ponytail. Even from across the room, the scent of jasmine and citrus wafts from her freshly shampooed hair and freshly bathed skin.

"Hey. See, I told you I'd still be wrapping these when you got back," she says with a wrinkled nose. "I always liked Brown-Eyed Girl," she says in response to his musical choice, the same song he sang the first time she met him. She winks one of her own brown eyes as she heads into the kitchen, pushing down the last bit of tape and tugging her tank top down. "You bought out the Circle-K or what?"

"You need help with that?" Brian asks, taking out one bottle, he places it on the flat of his hand and starts to spin it around in a very suave manner. Until he drops it and it falls onto the counter. Luckily it doesn't break, though it does do significant amounts of damage to his ego as he quickly scoops it back up. The bottle is set down firmly on the table. Turning he of course, pretends like that never happened. "I like it too." He states quickly.

"I got what you wanted me to get." He says a bit defensively. "Not my fault you have a drinking problem." He mutters as he turns his back to her once again, taking everything fully out of the bags and crumpling them up.

She begins to chuckle when he drops the bottle, but then her eyebrows shoot up at the defensive accusation he makes. "Drinking problem?" she echoes, with a shake of her head. "I said to get one or two specific things, but I guess that makes me a lush."

Her turn to be defensive. How do you go from everyone in their defensive corners to having a celebration for the first tally mark in the win column in a new partnership? Veronica heads back to the couch, picking up a bottle of lotion from the end table, and pouring a bit into her hands, before running those hands down over her bare legs.

Smirking a little bit he gives a decisive nod, as if asking for two specific things does exactly make you a lush. "It's okay, alkie. Don't get in a huff." Winters suggests as he goes to prepare things though pauses. "Maybe you should help me. I really have no idea what the hell I'm doing. My fakeparents raised me Mormon." Winters says, blinking down at the mass arsenal of alcohol. Then he glances up at her. "You sure you don't need help?"

"Help putting on lotion? We're not at the beach," she teases back, but gets off the couch and heads back to the kitchen. She picks up the bottle of the raspberry flavored vodka. "Fakeparents? You don't remember them, nice try." She reaches for a glass, then heads to the refrigerator, filling the glass with ice, then finding some 7-Up inside the door. She pours a bit of that, adds some of the vodka. "Good enough. I'm hardly a bartender." She shrugs and takes a sip, and then another. "Did you get carded?" she adds, those dimples showing once more. This close, the lotion she just put on can be smelled, some sort of apple fragrance, adding to the fruit cocktail of scents from her shower.

"I do remember them." Brian says with a little frown. "Just the last couple years I don't remember. Selective amnesia or something." Yeah right. He smirks as she starts to pour the drinks. "Yeah I got carded. But everybody does, right? They have to do that." Winters attests taking in a deep breath. "You smell nice."

She glances up at him with surprise, now leaning on the fridge. "Oh, you do? I thought… Well. Sorry," she says. The awkwardness just doesn't end tonight, does it? She nods to the Smirnoff drinks he bought. "Those things, I swear to God, are like Jolly Ranchers in liquid form. You don't even realize you're three sheets to the wind until you're on your fourth or fifth sheet," she says with a wink. "The watermelon's pretty good." So she's not going to malign his taste in alcohol, anyway.

"I know right? And guys say they're girly. Whatever. If girly things taste good, I'm all for it." Brian says in adamant support of her statements. "Alright. So, I've never had a private party. What do we do. Just start drinking and regret it nine months later?" Brian asks as he picks up one of the bottles examining it closer.

Veronica laughs. "We could play some sort of drinking game and pretend we're college kids again," she says with a shrug. "You know. Watch a horror movie and any time someone breaks one of the cardinal rules of what not to do in a slasher movie if you don't wanna die, take a swallow. Or any time Luke Skywalker yells 'No!' That kinda thing." She smiles, all white teeth and dimples like a Colgate commercial actress. "Or truth and dare with some sort of drinking as a penalty — I think you're lying, you gotta drink, you think I welched on the dare, etc."

"Welched." Brian repeats with a grin. "Good word." He dips his head in affirmation at this big vocabulary word but then grimaces a little bit. "I don't like scary movies. They're scary." Says the man who has killed over six men in the last month or so. "But we can if you wanna."

"It doesn't have to be a horror movie, goof. It was just an example," she points out. "You just take whatever people make fun of and make it be the thing you drink to. But we can just… drink, too." She chuckles and pushes off of the refrigerator to head back into the living room, moving to her spot on the couch. "Come on, Smirnoff Boy." She says with a grin, playfully patting the cushion next to her. "So tell me something I don't know about you. That you do remember."

"Uhh." Glancing to the counter he grabs a few of the bottles and brings them over to the coffee table before settling on the couch next to Veronica. "Well, you have to tell me something too. Miss My Whole Life is A Secret And I'll Never Tell You Anything Important." He takes a breath as that was a lot to cram into one sentence. Then shrugs. "Okay, we can play a game. You ask me something. And I'll ask you. And we can work drinking into that.. somehow."

Veronica smirks a bit, curling her feet up and wrapping her arms around her knees. "Fine. What do you want to know?" she asks, clinking her glass against his bottle in a little impromptu toast. "I can't promise to tell you everything. I don't tell anyone everything, but I never said I wouldn't tell you anything important, Smirnoff." She takes a sip of her drink, apparently not worried about the rules that might or might not come about when to drink.

"Well if you're not going to be able to play by the rules of this amazingly fun game, then maybe we just can't play it." Brian states a little sadly, but firmly. Clinking back he goes to drink from the bottle watching for her reaction as he tips his head back. Giving an exhale after bringing the bottle away he gives a smirk. "Can you play by the rules, now?"

"We hadn't made any rules," she points out, kicking him with a light brush of her foot. "Fine. What are the rules, and what do you want to know? If that's a question, yes, I can play by the rules. I'm not a rule breaker usually. I was a good girl." she smirks a little and sets her drink down on the coffee table to keep from "cheating" again. "Go ahead, Rule Master. Set the rules and ask away."

"You have to answer whatever I ask. Honestly. And then I do the same for you. If you lie." He motions over to the bottle and glasses. "Got it?" He gives a little hum. "Or we could just drink no matter what we answer. Any way. First question. Biggest fear, what is it?" Asks the younger Agent craning his neck at her.

She laughs a bit. "You won't know if I lie," she points out, her eyes dipping a little with a smug sort of confidence. "My biggest fear…" she murmurs, thinking to herself. "Not being important. Not having anyone care or notice if I'd never been here. Not being remembered. Not having made a difference in the world. Something along those lines." She says it matter-of-factly enough, but her eyes dip down a little shyly as she examines her kneecaps. "You? Same question."

"Of course I'll know." Brain responds, narrowing his brows at her. "Okay. Well take a drink anyway, for being honest." He gives a nod as if that makes perfect sense. He gives a nod as well. "That is a good one. Me too kinda, I mean, being alone, all that. No one caring." He gives a little nod. "Not my biggest fear though. Biggest fear." He tilts his head back. "Rats." He lies.

Veronica watches his eyes, and narrows her own before judging with a thumbs down sign and a shake of her head. "Nope. Try again. Rats don't cut it, buddy," she says. "What's your biggest fear?" she repeats, then reaches for her drink, for her "honesty" reward.

He gives a smirk as he goes to take his bottle and down the thing. Once his lips part from it he shakes his head a bit. "I don't know. Being alone probably." He gives a shrug. "Good thing I can never be alone, right?" Winters grins, nodding at her. "Your turn. Make it something good."

She chuckles a little and nods. "Well, you can always make yourself a companion, true," she says, trying to make light of it. "I'm used to being alone. I'm good at it, so it's not too frightening to me." She thinks a moment, and shrugs. "I always suck at these games. Let's see. If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, what would you want to do before the time came?"

"You." He grins, taking another sip from a new bottle. He tilts his head back thinking, "I don't know. mething good, so if there's a heaven I'll get in. Go save a kid from a bus or something." Brian gives a shrug. "What about you?"

She laughs at that, shaking her head. "You're such a boy scout." She smirks a little when she realizes that those were Deckard's words to Brian the night that things went so horribly wrong in Chinatown. "I don't know, actually… not work, that's for sure," she says with a laugh. "Get some human rocket to fly me around to all the places in the world I've never been? Stand on top of the pyramids, sit on the Sphynx's head? Sounds like that scene out of Aladdin. I can show you the world.. shiny, shimmering, splendid." Her voice is actually rather good, sweet and husky. She picks up her bottle and takes a long swallow.

"Ah!" He gasps, "I wanna change my answer. I want to be in Aladdin too." He says hastily, as if he waited much longer he wouldn't be able to change his answer anymore. "And then go watch fireworks on the carpet." He smiles sweetly, tilting his head back as he reminisces. "That'll be fun."

She laughs and shakes her head. "So you remember that movie, or you've seen it since you forgot everything?" she asks, stretching her legs out and letting them rest in his lap once again. "And what is your next question?" she asks, taking another long drink, draining her glass. She reaches for one of the Smirnoffs instead, for round two.

"Of course I remember the movie. Veronica. Even if I forgot my whole freaking life I would remember that movie." He says as if it was stupid of her for asking. He brings up one arm, letting it drape over her legs. "God. I don't know. Umm." He brings up a bottle and starts to down it again. "Most traumatic experience. Outside of work." He adds hastily.

"And you said you don't like musicals," Veronica points out. "That, my friend, is a musical. If an animated one with monkeys and elephants and giant snakes." She frowns a little at the question and closes her eyes, resting her head against the arm of the couch. "My dad died, when I was seventeen," she says quietly.

"Cartoons don't count." Brian shoots back. "Those are good songs." He frowns when she tells of her father, his lips tugging down a bit. "I'm sorry, Vee." He turns his head a little bit. "My parents died too, but I guess I didn't really know them." He frowns a bit. "How did he? I mean, if it's any of my business."

She frowns a little and nods. "I'm sorry for you too," she says, her eyes still closed. "He was a doctor. A neurosurgeon. He had to tell some people that the woman's brain tumors were inoperable. The husband got upset and threw my father out the window." It's all said rather flatly, in a matter-of-fact tone. "Tell me … your happiest moment." She changes the pattern, asks a different question than the one she answered.

"Wow. I'm.. I'm real sorry Vee." He murmurs sadly, tilting his head at her. His free hand stretches out, searching for one of her hands. Seeking to claim it softly, in a comforting way. "Happiest moment?" He asks, blinking at her with a little slant of his lips. "I don't know if I have one. What about you?"

Veronica frowns at the question. "I … don't know. Nothing really good has happened since my dad died, to be honest," she murmurs, her fingers curling around his and squeezing lightly. "I mean… yeah, I graduated valedictorian, I graduated magna cum laude from college, but it was all sort of just expected, you know?" she says with a slight shrug of one shoulder. "I… Does anyone have a happy life in this world anymore? Not since 2006."

"I… yeah." Brian picks up his bottle and starts to drain it in silence. Maybe this celebration wouldn't be as happy as he had planned it after all. Though he'll continue to hold her hand until she takes it back or yells at him or something. And he'll probably fall asleep that way eventually, with no jokes to lighten the mood or anything of that nature he'll just sit with her, attempting to comfort her.

Way to bring down the room, Veronica. The woman shakes her head as if to clear it, and then laughs. It's actually a mirthful laugh. "I don't think I'm drunk yet, but if I am, who knew I was such a grouchy one," she says. She sits up, which brings her almost into his lap, and brings her arms up and around his neck. "We'll make sure you have a happy moment, one you can remember," she tells him, her dark eyes shining as she looks intently in his face.

Instinctively, his arm disengages from her hand and instead wraps around her back. Though his brow arches skeptically. "You're not drunk yet." he reminds as if she hadn't just said it herself, tilting his head at her. Though he waits, his gray gaze watching her back curiously, and almost expectantly. "Okay." Is all he can say in response.

She picks up her bottle again and drinks long, draining the bottle in a couple of moments. "I will be soon," she says, and smirks, revealing her dimples. "And I'm determined not to be a grouchy one," she adds, leaning her forehead against his, her eyes dipping down as she does so. "Any ideas," she whispers, now that they're just a breath away from one another, "what kind of drunks we should be?"

His own bottle is abandoned on the table, as he turns to fully face her. Pulling her up completely into his lap he remains silent for the most part, matching her gaze. He doesn't respond to her question, letting his forehead press against hers. He wets his lips briefly, his other hand sliding up behind her as well. "The kissing types." He finally offers. "So, do it already."

Veronica smiles a little at his answer, and tilts her head, her lips moving to brush his lightly, then parting to kiss less chastely, the taste of sweet alcohol on both of their lips. Her fingers slide up the back of his neck to rake, as she sighs into the kiss, letting go of the sad memories of a moment ago. Maybe for tonight, there can be some form of happiness, even if it is short-lived, and perhaps regretted come daylight.


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