The only reaction he could muster was an arch of his eyebrow, which screamed ‘Seriously?’. He had only been joking about the drowning, but now he wasn’t so sure. Josh also wasn’t a fan of the name he had been called; Sparky was all well and good, but this one had a bit too much venom in it for his liking. The other day, she had seemed impressed, thankful even, that his abilities had helped her; now it seemed that the very idea of him using them again to come to her aide pissed her off. “Or something,” he answered in a deadpan tone as he took the keys from Harper’s hand. The only reason he was able to pick out her shop key at first glance was because it looked so similar to the spare he had used so many times before. With the door unlocked and open, Josh stepped through so that he could extend his hand and help Harper into the building, though truth be told the gesture was mostly prompted by his desire not to have the door slammed in his face. Now that he had seen exactly how far gone Harper was, he couldn’t in all good conscious leave her alone in the hopes that she would stumble into bed, which meant seeing her to her apartment himself.
Those that knew of Josh and his problems often asked him if he had trouble being around others that were drinking. It wasn’t so much the act itself that bothered him, but the reason behind it. It had been his experience that people drank for one of two reasons: one, because they were having fun with their friends, or two, because they were trying to forget about something painful. Of course, one wasn’t exclusive to the other, but if Josh had to guess, Harper wasn’t the type to drink alone unless something was wrong. But what does that matter? It wasn’t like her problems were any of his to care about or fix. Besides, he had more pressing matters to figure out in the present; namely, getting Harper upstairs. Much like his shop, the baker lived in an apartment at the top of a flight of stairs over her business. He was sure that she would be able to fumble and crawl her way up the stairs, but he wasn’t in the mood to wait an hour at the bottom in case she fell. There was really only one option as far as he could see. “Don’t wiggle.” It was the only warning he gave before he bent down and swooped Harper into his arms. Josh made sure his grip on her was tight before he mounted the stairs, more than expecting her to put up a fight. Better to beg for forgiveness than try to reason with and ask permission from a drunk Harper. He focused all his energy in ascending the stairs carefully, giving his full attention to every step and not focusing on how good she smelled even despite all the rain water or how she was getting him more soaked than the weather had managed to. He only fumbled when he got to the door at the top and had to ask for Harper’s assistance or risk dropping her completely.
Had he been a stranger to her home, he might have been a bit more shocked at how messy her living room was. It seemed to go with Harper, much like the hodge-podge outfits she always wore. Though he managed to set her down smoothly enough, the combination of their wet clothing and friction charged up a shock that bolted from his hand where it connected to Harper’s. He was long past the age of accidentally shocking someone, but there was little he could do when it came to the weather. “Sorry.” Though his words were apologetic, his tone was anything but. With his hands now free, Josh moved in the direction of Harper’s kitchen to start a pot of coffee.