Delta was not at all secretly waiting for that fucking school to just go ahead and blow the fuck up. Work had already told her several times to keep her opinions to herself, but while she kept her lip buttoned on hospital premises her partner had been getting an earful every time she found something new to say. Since she’d been informed she was no longer required to be on call via a phone-call from someone who sounded like they had a stick up their ass, however, she was now wide awake at holy-fuck o’clock, and fully dressed with nothing to do. Well. Not nothing. An entertaining form of warfare had built up between her and the guy who lived above her, for no reason other than he had an uncanny tendency to start banging around on the floor at any and all hours of the day -- which was generally when she slept. He was possibly peg-legged and totally diurnal, so her current stance in the centre of the lounge (beneath his bedroom), bouncing a rather hefty rubber ball off the ceiling, seemed like totally reasonable payback. Also, you know, just plain fun. Who didn’t love keeping their less desirable neighbours awake just because you could? Seriously.
The only issue with having so much focus on keeping that ball hitting the same point on the ceiling was that the knock on the door startled her out of her vindictive little world and the damn thing came crashing down on her forehead. Ow. Hell, didn’t anyone know how to use a phone? There wasn’t anybody who had her address who wouldn’t have reason to try her phone first. Oh. Alright. Except Bianca. Once the owner of that voice had registered she had to acknowledge that some people’s lives really were too short to bother with that shit. Delta opened the door, lazily swinging back on the handle so it opened wide and left the path into her apartment clear. “Because sirens get more publicity than us?” To be fair, she liked it that way. People with black eyes who could make your dead relations do the hula probably made maneaters look good. Almost. With a careless wave into the house, she wandered back down the hall. “Why pay for painkillers, the dead come free anyway.” A glance back at her niece and how awful she looked just made Delta snort. “I’m gonna take a guess and say that’s exactly what you’re here for. Right?” Either she wanted something dead, something alcoholic, or something arguably illegal. She knew this to be fact since it was exactly how she’d behave. “There’s roadkill and beer in the fridge, spirits next to the fridge, and… I might’ve stolen the top half of some guy from the hospital,” she added in a tone that could have been sheepish if it wasn’t so obvious that she didn’t give a damn. “He’s in the gym bag.”
For all of a second she paused. “If you’re after weed, I don’t know if there’s any left. I could swear Grams palmed my stash.”