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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"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?"

"If you like, Kitty."

He smiles a little, pouring her another cup of coffee from the pot still on the table.

"Just a moment, then."

And he goes over to the bar, and gets the key to a room, and when - or perhaps if - she discovers that it is not on her tab at all, but on his, perhaps she shall yell at him.

Then again, perhaps not.

He comes back, key in hand. "So. Would you like to try walking, or would you like me to try carrying you upstairs?"

Coffee good, but...oh, hell, coffee means awake means not sleeping. So she only drinks part of it.

Perhaps she shall, should she find out.

Perhaps she shall just smile and bring him a cup of tea.

If she finds out.

"I can walk," she insists, stubbornly. Because Kitty is very stubborn.

Especially when drunk.

Especially when drunk and wrong.

He lets her try, at least, or at least he starts by letting her try to stand on her own again.

She manages the standing.

The walking does not go so well.

She feels this is less her fault and more the fault of the bar for suddenly decided to put in a bendy floor.

It's quiet, and nobody else really will be able to hear, not much more than a whisper to her ear.

"Kitty... do you want me to carry you, or do you just want to lean on me?"

Jaw sets. She does not need help. She does not.

...Except unless Del's around and she doesn't know, she probably does.

Finally, through gritted teeth, "Carry." Because that ways she can stop worrying about the phasing, which is a bit of a problem at the moment.

"All right."

Said not without a slight smile for the teeth-gritting, perhaps, but it's simple enough to pick her up and carry her upstairs.

Exeunt.

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