milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Kitty looks tired when she enters the bar, but, then, she's been up for probably 48 hours now.

So she thinks she's allowed to not look her best. Doesn't really care, either, though, as she gets a bottle of vodka and begins to work through it at a booth.

[ooc: Spoilers for X-Men Unlimited 7 prob. contained within any threads]

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"Thank you." Snorts. "Don't be. Not your fault." Eyes the bottle. "I don't need any more, do I?"

"Probably not, but I suppose I'm not going to stop you if you try to drink a bit more."

Much more, and yes, he will.

But another glass... he probably won't.

She compromises on a half glass, draining it quickly. Just stares at it when it's empty.

She doesn't cry. But it's almost like crying without tears.

He's had evenings like this, more than he thinks he should be able to count, although he remembers every one.

So he doesn't say anything more, just holding her, blood on one hand where fingers are laced with fingers, the other hand in her hair with his arm around her shoulders, holding her close.

She appreciates that. It's, well. Something.

After a while, when she thinks she can talk, "What...day is it?" Not date, day.

"It was... Wednesday, I think, when I came down and saw you, although I wouldn't be surprised if it counts as Thursday now."

She blinks. "Oh."

He looks down at her, quiet for a moment.

"... not what you expected?"

"I...think I lost track of time at some point."

He blinks.

" - when did you think it was?"

"Erm." Squints a bit, as she thinks. "I'm pretty sure it was Monday last I checked."

"You should sleep, then."

It's quiet, but not without a certain note of understanding.

Sometimes, Those Nights turn into Those Days or Those Weeks.

"Should," she agrees.

"...Don't really want to."

"No, wouldn't really suppose you would."

Quiet, for a moment.

"Still, though."

Quoting from the Anakin thread, more or less, because the mun gets the feeling this is a standard response, "Sleep means dreams. Dreams mean nightmares. Nightmares mean waking up crying. Not fun."

"I know, Kitty."

He smiles a little, sadly, more that she is having a night like this than that he has had so many.

"I know. And you still need to sleep."

He hesitates, if only for a moment, then "but if you'd like to stay here... well. I'll stay with you, if you want."

Silent, then, crooked smile, "Wouldn't that be improper?"

Though it's a nice sounding idea.

"Most likely."

"Then I shouldn't ask you to, then, probably."

"But you're not, Kitty."

A faint, crooked smile.

"I'm offering."

For all that he's not planning to be asleep on the bed next to her.

"...Help me to the bar to get a room, then?"

"All right."

And if, perhaps, somewhere, he's disappointed that she's chosen not to stay in his room, there's no sign of it.

He stands, leaving the tray on the table, and offers her both hands to help herself out of the booth.

Having both hands is probably a good thing.

As she's been drinking for quite a while, and, well, she can fake sober well enough, sitting down, but standing up is difficult, especially as she's having to concentrate rather hard on not phasing at the moment.

He can catch her, if she falls.

If she phases, that will be... slightly more difficult.

So he stands there, for a moment, letting her see if she can find her balance.

And if she decides she can't, he's willing to balance for her.

It's not so much falling as not standing very well. Finally, she sits back down. "Er. How about you ask the bar for a room on my tab, and I'll wait here for a moment?"