Who: Emma and Prince Caspian. What: A drunken telepath! Room-mates finally meet. When: Late night. Where: Their apartment. Rating: PG13 Status: Complete.
Finally giving up on trying to find her keys in the depths of her purse, Emma decided to topple the bag over and fish through the contents on the hallway floor of the apartment building. She bent over and cursed under her breath as her vision swayed heavily in and out. It was difficult for her to hold her balance leaning over in such a state. It had finally become clear to her that perhaps she had a few drinks too many. Her headache was gone but as always the voices that rang in her ears suddenly became unbearably loud. These were the voices of people’s thoughts... or currently, the events of peoples dream. All around her she heard them but she was not controlled enough to filter them out.
It took her several moments, but she found the keys she was looking for. Then it took her a few moments still to find the right one and fit it into the lock. Stumbling into the apartment, the White Queen threw her keys on the table near the door and started to pick up her belongings in the hallway, wishing she had some sort of distraction to keep out the thoughts of others and... for her to stop the freight train of her own painful thought patterns which seemed so determined to break what was left of her spirit. How could he leave me there? Alone like that? How could he leave with those other floosies? Those talentless, nameless, classless sluts! Don’t I have at least ten times what they had to offer? What could Tony possibly see in them?
The woman was making a great deal of noise in the silence of the night with the crashing of keys and toppling of purses. She didn’t care. She didn’t know why she bothered to go home in the first place but where else did she have to go? Stark tower? She’d called both Wade and Logan but neither of them answered their cell phones.
The blonde woman was picking up the last of her things and tossing it unceremoniously back into her bag when she looked up and caught sight of the young man in the threshold. She slowly stood back to her full height, towering over him in her spiked high-heels (though she would only be an inch or so taller than he without them.) She rose an eyebrow and sauntered over to him with a surprising amount of grace for one so drunk. The sleeve of her white mini-dress fell of her shoulder and she looked down at him with pouting lips.
“Well, are you at least going to slip a few dollar bills in my underwear or are you just going to continue staring at me like a peep show without having to shell out the cash?” she asked, putting a gloved hand on her supple hip.