Never Too Early To Be Blitzed


elisabeth_icon.gif felix4_icon.gif

Scene Title Never Too Early To Be Blitzed
Synopsis She was supposed to spend the day with her father, but… he sees too much that he can't fix. It causes stress. So Lizzie goes home to ride out the anniversary of her kidnapping.
Date Aug 22, 2010

Elisabeth's Apartment, Dorchester Towers

When she opened the door to him, Elisabeth is …. well, two things. Clearly quite inebriated, if the intensity of the peer at Felix is anything to go by. And armed. Probably not the best combination. Wearing a pair of slouchy pajama pants and a T-shirt that does not appear to belong to her (it's quite large), she allows him entry. "Wanna drink?" she asks in a voice that only slurs the slightest little bit.

"I want to drink, and I want to fuck, and I'm sure you can help me with the former and I'm really hoping you can help me with the latter," He's stone-cold sober, but he's enunciating in that school-boy precise way he has when English is being really troublesome. He's in a t-shirt and jeans. The t-shirt is his very favorite one with the cosmonaut pinup girl riding Sputnik. It's intensely tacky, and well-beloved. "Please, put the gun down," he adds, as an aside.

As she precedes him back to the living room, Elisabeth puts the 9mm carelessly on the front table. He might notice the safety's not even on. Christ. She wasn't kidding when she opened that door — she'd have shot him. There are two empty wine bottles on the coffee table and one full one that appears to have just been opened. "You want the hard stuff, it's in the cabinet," she retorts mildly as she flumps down in the corner of the couch morosely. "I'll help you get drunk, but if you wanna fuck, we gotta…. go somewhere else. Maybe the roof." Her face scrunches up a bit as she considers that. "Won't fuck you here because it's Richard's place too," she explains. "House rules. Til he moves out anyway." Just like he'd have never invited her to his bed at Leland's place either. It's just too rude when your roommate is also involved with you to have someone else in the bed.

He reaches out and flicks the safety on. Just because. "Sure. Roof is good. I love a good roll on a chaise longue," Fel's experssion is momentarily reminiscent. He does want the hard stuff, and that is what he goes to get. Vodka, ftw.

Lizzie grins a little. "Drinking first. If fucking works out later, then fine." She drops her head back on the high cushion. "I'm a little bit fucked up right now, though, so I can't promise I'll be even awake to fuck soon." She sighs.

"I'll wake you up in the morning," Felix says, without hesitation. And he will. He does, doesn't he? "You're really drunk. It's the anniversary, isn't it?" Not really a question, when you get right down to it.

The two empty bottles in the kitchen in addition to the ones in front of her in the living room might tell him just how far gone she is. Though to be fair, she shared one of those with Veronica. "Yup," Liz replies succinctly. To both, though she doesn't make that exactly clear. Instead, she sits up and reaches for the wine bottle she just opened and pours another full glass of white. "Juuuuuuuuust about now, they cracked me on the head," she tells him, glancing toward the clock.

"Mine is soon, too, Liz," he says, and there's that accent there, making his words wobbly and uncertain. There's something funny in his face, a mingling of anger and shame. And he comes and sits by her, fitting himself to her hip and side. It's not romantic. It's the huddling of two soldiers in the trenches.

"I know," Elisabeth whispers as she snuggles into his side, pulling her feet up so she's huddled almost fetally against him. "And I feel like shit cuz I'm not in any shape to be what you need tonight," she admits, resting her head in the crook of his neck. "I'm going to hear that fucking song all night."

"We will be what we need together," he pronounces, solemnly, even as he turns to put his arms around her. His heart's fluttering in the way that'd indicate incipient cardiac arrest in anyone else, but is merely a sign of Fel feeling somewhat stressed, in his case. And he kisses her on the temple, as if to seal the promise.

The soft sigh releases a little of the blonde's tension as she sits there with him, her head resting against his. Elisabeth brings her drink up to take a swallow and murmurs softly, "I don't think that I've ever actually lied to him until now…. but I told him I'd be gone all day. Spending it with my dad." She doesn't attach a name. "Couldn't stay with my dad. He sees too much. Did some Redbird work earlier. And ran into Vee on the way in tonight and she stayed a while. And now…. you're here." She pauses and then bites her lip, attempting to smother the tears that suddenly fill her eyes. "Why is it that it's okay that you're here and not that he is?" she asks softly. Because he would have stayed if she'd let him. She practically chased him out. "And why the fuck am I mad at him for not being here? I don't like being a crazy person, Felix." Cuz she feels pretty damn nuts about now.

He eyes her for a long moment, blue eyes bemused. "Because all men are supposed to be telepaths, and women get mad that they aren't. I have some of it because I'm a fag, but it's really not standard issue in the hetero guy. And it's okay because I went through it, too. I know what it's like to be helpless in the dark, knowing that they're going to come again. He doesn't." He strokes her hair. "God willing, he never will."

There's a very palpable shudder that goes through her when he says helpless in the dark. She has not yet hit the point of turning on all the lights in the apartment, but there are definitely more on than is conducive to any kind of a romantic evening, that's for sure. Elisabeth actually snickers a soft laugh against his neck. "I have never in my life — that I know of," she amends with the oh-so-serious demeanor including the 'ah-ha!' index finger held up of one who is already well beyond buzzed and into seriously drunk. It doesn't show all that much on her — she's not a sloppy drunk nor a giggly one. In general, she's usually more playful when she's sober than drunk. She tends to be a quietly sitting in the corner drunk. "I have never played head games with my lovers. So why the fuck would I start with the guy that I honestly think I'm in love with? And why the fuck are we the ones so lucky as to be in love with guys who are…. well… the way Lee and Richard are??" she demands.

"I don't know," Fel says, more earnestly. That lost look has come into his face at the mention of Lee. Eight months hasn't been enough to even begin to salve the sting. "And yeah, I'm over generalizing. it's just….women do find the emotional stuff a lot more transparent than men do. Let's face it."

Well, that now earns a sound that only comes from an exceedingly intoxicated Elisabeth. "fffffffffffffffffft," she snorts. "That's fuckin' ridiculous, Felix. Cuz I'm about as dumb as a box of rocks when it comes to this shit. I don't know what the hell I'm doing!" She takes a drink of her wine and looks up at him over the rim of the glass. "You, I understand," she tells him after she swallows the drink. "You're my friend, we talk, we occasionally fuck, it's good, it's fun, we like it, we go our own ways. Always been like that for me! Now I got Richard in the middle, and I'm like….. well, he's my friend, we talk, we fuck, it's good, it's fun, we like it…. but I don't want him to go his own way."

She waves her free hand somewhat wildly about. "Oh, I don't care if he goes off and fucks whoever. I mean…. But I care that he's moving out! And I like that he's moving out cuz it means I can come in here and just play the piano or ignore the fucking end of the world shit that's been eating me alive for two years, just close the door and lock it out! But I don't want him to go! I like having him here. ANd now I'm all upset about he's leaving, and I'm not going to say that to him cuz what the fuck does that sound like but a needy goddamn woman? I don't think I'm a needy woman! And all this in love shit is for the birds, cuz I seem to make us both unhappier than we were when we were just fucking! I go and get shot in the head and he eats a nuke, and then we each spend all this fucking time worrying about each other……" Elisabeth trails off.

"You need to tell him that," Fel orders her, without an iota of doubt. "He can make up his own mind how he feels about it. Or maybe I will," he says, swirling his vodka in its glass, an then reaching to pour himself more.

Now she looks confused. Alcohol not making for comprehension. "You're going to tell me how he really feels," Elisabeth asks dumbly. "Just how often are you and he comparing notes?" she demands, thoroughly befuddled. "Never mind. I don't want to know. Know what I want right now? I want to get out of this fucking city for the rest of the week. I want to not have bad dreams where I wake up screaming and shattering every bit of dishware that I own, and I want……. well, world peace too."

Felix says, patiently, "I will tell him how -you- feel. Because you need to. And….we could go. We could take leave," He doesn't really believe it. There's that white rim to his own eyes, and his grip is tightening on his glass.

"Yeah," Elisabeth says quietly. "I doubt she's going to give us both leave again quite this soon." Considering what happened with the last leave they took — you know, the Institute run — she might never give 'em leave together again. Or then again…. she seemed awful happy about the outcome, mostly. "She already called me in first thing this morning. 'Swhy I'm here tonight instead of there. I …. apparently cracked a few things at the base last night." It's not the scream, it's the subconscious use of power that is the problem. And apparently she had bad enough nightmares last night that Kershner was …… well, Liz wouldn't call her worried. More like she didn't want to replace a buncha windows.

He considers that for a long moment. And then starts scooting down, intending to lay his head on her lap. "Oh?" he wonders, looking up at her, blue eyes innocent.

Liz frowns, scooting to accomodate the head on her lap — hey, it frees up her hands for more drinking. Bonus. "'Oh?'" she asks tartly. "Oh, what?"

"What'd you break?" he wonders. Apparently he's going for a stealthier route than his normal methods of seductions. Which are, admittedly, about as subtle as a panzer division. In that he's oh so absentmindedly tugging her shirt out of her pj pants.

There's a snort of laughter. "Uhm…. every mirror in the ladies locker room was cracked, and the windows of the barracks aren't…. well…. shatterproof either," Elisabeth admits. "Nothing actually broke, just a lot of cracking." It didn't go as far as the men's barracks, thank goodness. Though it did set the canines outside the building going nuts. She smacks his hand lightly. She's drunk off her ass, but clearly the idea of having one lover walk in on the other makes her just a little…. squirmy. Maybe not so squirmy that she's said no as yet, but enough that she murmurs, "If you're gonna do that, I gotta balcony." Outside on the balcony doesn't count as 'in the apartment', does it? She downs the rest of what's in her glass and lounges there for a moment.

He turns, and wriggles close enough to start leisurely applying his tongue to the curve of her belly. It's more ticklish than erotic, just yet. "Id a middit," he says, letting his mouth be muffled by her skin. "Dwe warb up id here."

That's gonna be one serious hangover in the morning.

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