Michaela Barnes (michaela_barnes) wrote in btvsal, @ 2010-09-27 10:26:00 |
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Current mood: | drunk |
Drunk Gabriel is Made of WIN
Who: Gabriel and Kayla
Where: Avarice
When: Thursday, September 23rd
It was fair to say that Kayla hadn't been in the best place mentally lately, but a girl still had to work in order to survive, which was why she walked into Avarice a few minutes early for her shift, dressed in ripped denim jeans and killer black corset, her short blonde hair styled in a faux-hawk and wearing ruby red lipstick and heavy black mascara. She was here until close, which was a ways off yet, but still, it served to keep her mind off of things. Well… you’d think it would. We'll see how that goes, hm?
Well, that wasn't going to work tonight, actually. Because, at least one source of her problems was sitting at the bar, sticking out like a sore thumb, which apparently stick out horribly. Of course, at least the words coming out of his mouth sounded a little more like they'd fit in. "Come on, bartenda! I jus' nee' anothe drin' a whiskey in me glass!" Sweet Jesus. When drunk, Gabriel's natural accent came out. Apparently his accent was actually cockney English, and he affected the more 'educated' English accent. It was actually because he thought that was what a Watcher should sound like, if you're curious.
Kayla didn't actually register that it was Gabriel creating a fuss until she actually LOOKED at him. Her eyebrows drew together in a frown. She honestly didn't think he was much of a drinker... but he was here of all places and had likely had a few drinks by the time she got there. "Her name's CJ, Gabriel, and don't you think you've had enough?" She was actually quite huffy about it.
He turned toward her and narrowed his eyes at her. "Whadda 'ou care?" he asked her. "I wasn' eve' worth a comittmen.' Not like I'm worth a liver, either." He turned back to the bartender. "Sorry, CJ," he said to her, who just deposited the bottle on the bar and said to fix it himself, which he did.
She gave CJ an apologetic look before grabbing a glass and pouring herself a shot of his whiskey, downing it in one gulp before he had a chance to stop her. "Don't start on that self-pitying bullshit, Gabriel. It doesn't look good on you."
"Well apparent'y I don' loo' goo' on ya, either!" he snapped right back. God, he'd be mortified in the morning if he remembered half of what he was saying, much less how he was talking.
"I never said that! And since when do you drink? The strongest thing I've EVER seen you have is a coffee. And what's with the accent?" She practically flailed. "Normally you're all 'Pip Pip. Cheerio!'." She stopped herself from saying more then, since she realized that they were making a small scene. She actually put up a hand when Dave started to make his way over, indicating that she had this.
"This is ac'ally how I talk," he said to her. "I jus' try to sound more educated because 'hat's wha' a Watcher should soun' like," he said to her. "Woul' you take orders from someone 'oo soun'ed like this?" He had a point.
"I'd probably laugh my ass off if you weren't drunk right now," she admitted, crossing her arms over her ample breasts. She glanced down the length of the bar and sighed. CJ could probably use some help right now. "I'll be back," she told him.
'Ave a' it," he said to her, waving her off, pouring himself another glass of whiskey while she got up and went behind the bar to work like she was paid to do here.
As soon as she started serving, it was as if a part of her brain had shut off. She was actually PLEASANT talking to people, although she kept glancing at him periodically, still highly agitated that he'd turned to the bottle for solace. A few hours passed before she could actually talk to him again, although it was quiet enough now that she could get away with it. "Please tell me you didn't drive."
He shook his head. "I knew be'er than tha'," he told her. "I took a cab." He had nearly polished off that bottle than he had gotten from CJ earlier, and was ready for another one, although he figured that Kayla wouldn't give him another one.
Oh, he was right about that. She idly wondered if he could even WALK right now, since that amount of alcohol would floor most men. Then again. He wasn't most men. "Good," she replied, leaning against the bar opposite him. God. She could use a drink right now.
In some weird "I can still read you' that he can do with her, he took his glass, filled it with the rest of the whiskey in the bottle, and pushed it toward her. "I 'ave pro'ly 'ad enou' by now," he said as he gave her the glass.
"Thank you," she murmured, taking a large mouthful of the warm liquid before setting the glass back down. "And I don't care what manner of man you are. You're gonna feel like shit for this in the morning."
He snorted when she said that. "When your wan'in' to get drun', it don' ma'er whether or no' it's gonna hur' in the mornin'," he said to her. Hell, he was sort of wanting it to hurt, since it would distract him from what he was feeling.
"That's a good point," she replied, finishing the last of the whiskey. She poured him a glass of water and set it in front of him. "Soon as I’m done here, I think I’ll do that as well."
"Then your bi'chen at me for it because...?" Gabriel asked. Wow, he'd probably never cussed in front of her, either. Kind of strange how he was acting now, wasn't it?
"Because YOU'RE making a complete ass of yourself," she pointed out. "I have a right to be bitchy. Just be glad it's ME you're dealing with and not HIM." She pointed over to Dave, who, comically enough, was watching Gabriel like a hawk. Bouncers, man. They always sensed the possibility for trouble-making.
"I'm no'!" Gabriel protested, and, when she pointed to Dave, Gabriel turned around and gave him what he thought was a menacing glare, which just caused Dave to laugh, which meant that his menacing glare wasn't worth spit. "And wha' abou' your righ'? Wha' makes you thin' you go' a righ'?"
She actually sneered in frustration then. "Okay, so I DON'T have a right to be bitchy because you're making an ass of yourself. But I DO have a right to be bitchy because you're drinking HERE making an ass of yourself." Although... while she had ample opportunity to throw him out, she hadn't. Which said a lot, really. Even *she* knew that. "I've still got a while here yet. Sober up a bit and after I close, we'll talk. If you still feel like drinking then, I'll help you on your way but until then: straighten up and fly right." Demanding, wasn't she?
"Well, I did'n' know where else t' go," he pointed out to her. When she asked him to act right until she got off work, he had half a mind to tell her to sod off, but, just the same, the words, "Fine. I'll play nice, bu' you promised!" he said, pointing a finger at what presumably was supposed to be her, but was actually a wall.
She arched an eyebrow at his actions but said nothing on them, instead telling CJ to keep him on water or pop until close. Dave knew that she could handle it by now so he left them be and after she'd done the closing duties, she came back to him. "Alright. I'm all yours. What're you in the mood for?"
He actually had kept his word, too, keeping quiet and sticking to water while he waited for her to get off work. However, it hadn't made him sober up much. "Wha' I was drinkin' before if ya don' mind," he said, giving her a half grin.
She actually rolled her eyes at that, but she'd keep her word. She took a bottle of whiskey and two glasses and rounded the bar. Since, hey. She said she wanted a drink, too. "Think you can move to a table or booth, or are you good?"
He nodded when she asked if he could move to a table or booth, standing up and showing that he could do it. "Jus' don' as' me to wal' a straigh' line," he said to her. He was pretty sure he couldn't do that.
"I'm not a cop," she replied. Even though she'd been acting like one. She took him over to one of the booths, sitting down and pouring them each a drink. She'd have to make it up to CJ tomorrow, since she sure as hell felt like she didn't get much done tonight.
As soon as she poured him a drink, he took the glass and took a big swig of it. "Go' tha' is goo'," he said out loud, leaning back his head and letting it rest on the back of the booth seat after swallowing. "We shoul' pro'ly talk, shoul'n we?"
"Probably," she agreed. She took a sip of her drink and set it down again, before extending her arm against the back of the booth and watching him. "I'd ask how you've been, but I think it's pretty obvious."
"I'm sure i's fairly obvious," he said back, sitting up and arching an eyebrow at her. "I don' talk like this for anyone, 'ou know." He looked her over. "How're you?" Sadly, as upset as he was, she was still the one thing he was worried about.
She clenched her jaw and looked away briefly, "Oh, I'm... just peachy." She would never be known for her acting skills, would she? She sighed and admitted: "I've had better days." Suddenly afraid that her mascara would run, she excused herself momentarily to take it (and her lipstick) off. "Sorry," she murmured when she returned.
"You're peachy as a rock," he said to her. Well, made sense in his head, after all. "And i's fine. I woul'n as' if I did'n wan' 'ta know."
She scrunched up her face, a little confused at the first thing he said – and couldn't help it but laugh. "Peachy as a rock? I can’t decide whether you've had too much or not enough." She took a gulp of her drink, starting to feel mildly buzzed (she hadn't been eating much again, the silly girl).
"Pro'ly too much," he said to her when she talked about his weird statement. He hadn't been eating much lately either, which is why he was so totally wasted right now.
She nodded agreeably and leaned back in her seat, brushing her ankle against his. "I don't know what to do now," she admitted. Meaning: as a whole, she didn't know what to do.
Even in his drunken state, he couldn't help but feel when her ankle brushed against his. He actually bit the bottom of his lip to suppress a shudder from it. "I don' know, either," he said with a shrug. "I wasn' exac'ly taugh' how to deal wit'...well, much of anyt'ing tha' innit' tryin' to kill us."
"Heh," she murmured. "That's just... great." She cleared her throat awkwardly, trying not to let the situation get TOO uncomfortable here. "What CAN we do?"
"Either suck i' up an' deal wit' i' or fuck an' move on," Gabriel blurted out, then blushed. "I really can' control meself when I drin'," he said, shaking his head. "Sorry."
She shrugged. "I liked the fucking part." That was the great thing about being half-way to drunk. Your inhibitions went out the window. "Not so much the moving on part, though."
He arched an eyebrow at her when she said that she liked the fucking part. "You still like me?" he asked. Of course, with him turning her down, he had thought that maybe she had changed her mind or something. "An' I mean' 'move on' as in 'ge' pas' i', no' 'forge' abou' ev'rythin'."
She finished off her glass and poured another, feeling a little warm inside and... pleasantly fuzzy. "I can't just turn off how I feel. And the fact is... there are really only two people I want right now. And I'm not allowed to have either of them." She looked down then and traced her fingertips across the rim of her glass.
"Who are these people tha' you're wan'in'?" he asked her. If one was him...well, he might say screw it and be with her anyway, monagamy be damned. It couldn't be any worse than what he was feeling right now. If not...well...then things probably wouldn't end well. Just sayin'.
"You, obviously. And... my friend, Chloe." She didn't know if Chloe had spoken to Nica, whether they were still together or not. But still. You can't turn off how you feel. She took another sip of her drink, starting to slow down with her alcohol intake. "I know it's selfish, but... you both offer me something that I wouldn't have on my own."
"Oh good bloody lord," he muttered, tipping his head back and finishing off the rest of his drink, reaching for the bottle and pouring another one. "Look. I'm ob'iously mis'rible li'e t'is, an' so are you." Well, apparently being drunk didn't change his inability to not be blunt. "I'd rather be wit' you an' share tha' feel li'e t'is." Apparently his ability to speak was getting worse. "As long as you care abou' me I don' bloody care anymore." He snorted. "An' tha' woul' be me bein' selfish."
"Are you... really?" Was that a hopeful tone in her voice? My, I think it was. "You'd really do that for me?"
"Yea, I'd do tha' for you," he said. "Because I'd be sacrificin' SO much." Well, he had a point. He'd still have basically what he wanted, right? "An' I'm sure you're jus' dyin' to be wit' me now, all drun' an' soundin' idiot like."
She laughed. "Actually, I was just thinkin' how much I wanna do you right now, despite how very drunk you are... and I'm getting." Oh dear. Is drunk sex ever a good idea? Anyone? Well, it always seems like a good idea at the time.
That just made him grin. "Know of somehow we ca' ge' home an' ge' ou' a 'ere?" he asked. He was ready to go now.
She gave him a cheeky little grin and nodded slowly. "I'll call us a cab." Since, really. It would take them FOREVER to walk, and that just wouldn't do.
He nodded, standing up slowly but somehow steadily. "The' le's ge' the bloo'y hell ou' a here," he said.