WHO: Gretchen Watkins & Tracey Davis WHAT: Tracey needs a drink and Gretchen is a huge fan of alcohol WHERE: Undgerground WHEN: Tuesday night WARNINGS/RATING/STATUS: Drinkin and cursin/PG13?/Ongoing
Adjusting her shirt, Gretchen ran her fingers through her hair as she made her way up the street towards the club. She didn't know why Tracey needed a drink and if she were honest, she didn't really care too much. She didn't make it a habit to ask others about their problems, she knew they'd tell her even if she begged them not to. But hopefully she could knock back a few drinks before the other woman spilled.
As she neared the club, she glanced around for Tracey, deliberately trying not to think about the last time she was here. Less than a week ago, when she'd been avoiding Trevor, a bloke she'd picked up had gotten a little too rough in the alley behind the club. She was a fan of casual sex and she certainly enjoyed when Trevor grabbed her and yanked her hair, but the man hadn't been Trevor. And when he'd shoved her up against the brick wall, ringing his fingers around her wrists and attempting to take her wand away, she'd felt a twinge of real fear, which had been quickly swallowed by anger. He'd underestimated her; most people did. She was wee and cute and unassuming, which worked in her favour because he hadn't seen it coming when she'd twisted in his grasp, pulled her hand loose and hexed him. He was likely still recovering, and was very lucky that someone had passed by the mouth of the alley as she stood over him, because she'd come entirely too close to just killing him.
She wouldn't have to worry about that tonight, however. Tonight was, well not about Tracey, but it certainly wasn't about Gretchen finding someone to shag her. She had that, she reminded herself, grinning widely at the thought, despite herself. She spotted Tracey, by the door and waved, crossing the Alley towards the other woman. "Alright?" she greeted.