Madison Mitchell (mmprincess) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2010-01-21 23:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | democratic party, madison mitchell, mia jacobs |
Who: Maddie, Mark (The Democratic Party), Mia, and Davey (The New Whig Party)
What: Damage control
When: Thursday night
Where: Mark's apartment.
Madison Mitchell's face was unmade.
"Come on, Davey." She murmured to the groggy eight year old as he made a valiant attempt to keep up with her clattering cat heels. There was a searing pain in her left foot. She had taken off her shoes when entering Mr. Smith's apartment to collect David, only to step on a shattered ceramic vase - a holdover from the Alexandra days. So there was that, but she wasn't paying attention to that, there was only the tired little boy and the click click click of her heels on the pavement. "Fuck it." She muttered, kicking off the shoes. She let out a sharp breath as her bare feet hit the freezing pavement. "C'mere." She said, reaching her arms for David, and scooped the boy into her arms. His hands curled in her hair and he held tight as she continued to walk, her shoes lost, her ankles cold, her thrice-weekly spinning class paying off. Her purse swung at her side, bumping against her hip with each step.
"Is dad mad at me?" David's voice was soft and choked in her ear. Madison pressed her lips together in a thin line and swallowed away the dangerous warmth in her face.
"No, sugar." She replied, her oft-repressed southern lilt creeping back into her voice with the stress and the tired and the cold as ever-loving fuck. "You're just going to have a sleepover with your uncle and Maggie, that's gonna be fun, right?"
"I want dad." David protested.
"Dad's sleeping." Maddie replied, and at least that was true. Convincing Mr. Smith that he wanted her to make him a cocktail was easy, slipping two of the valium she had convinced a doctor to prescribe to her to help her sleep was also easy. She wasn't concerned for Mr. Smith's well-being in that regard; the man had the constitution of a truck. And speaking of constitutions- "It'll be fun, Davey, I'll read to you when we're at your uncle's okay?"
"Okay." Was the mumbled response, and David was somberly silent for the rest of Madison's trek.
A cluster of paparazzi waited outside Mr. Harden's apartment building, but Madison was able to avoid them by doing a very convincing impression of a victim of swine flu. Soon she was riding the elevator to Mr. Harden's floor, all the while still carrying David in her sore arms. When she arrived at Mr. Harden's apartment, the door was unlocked just like Mia had said it would be, and Madison slipped inside quickly. She sat the tired boy down on the nearest couch and even though the temptation to slump beside him and fall asleep was very, very strong, she remained standing and began to glance around the apartment.
"Mr. Harden?" She called and, damn, her foot hurt like a bitch. "Mia?" She glanced to David, "..Maggie?"