At the command of 'buck up,' a thin eyebrow arched upwards as she regarded him with skepticism. "Really, buck up?" she asked and laughed at how ridiculous it felt to say it. "Buck up," she repeated, testing the way the words felt in her mouth before her thoughts connected to the rest of what he said. "Wait a second, you hitting on me Charlie boy? Tsk, tsk. So unprofessional." Still, she grinned, which was easy to do with the way that alcohol had relaxed so many of her muscles. Charlie definitely was not an eyesore, especially the way that his smile lit up in his eyes, and had Finley been a tad more sober, she probably would have been a much more graceful flirt. Not that she knew any better at the moment. It would probably help her walking straight if she could keep her eyes on where she was going instead of who she was going there with.
"What's it, southern hospitality? That what you all about, Charlie -- Chuck -- Charlie?" She felt the need to say his name over and over again, trying to find a diminutive form that suited him. So far Charlie-Boy was her favorite, but she was always open to suggestions. Next thing she knew, her arm was draped over his shoulder and he was helping her walk. How many times had she been put in that same position, trying to help her mother walk across the apartment just to make it to the bedroom without falling down halfway and staying there? The thought washed over her like a cold wave, and suddenly she was pushed back into the state of mind that made her start drinking in the first place tonight. Her smile faded and she looked down at the floor, too caught up in the way she was feeling to even object to Charlie helping her walk.
"Yeah, fine is generally the term for 'I'm fucked up beyond belief,'" she joked, half-heartedly. She wasn't sure where they were going, but she let Charlie direct her. "I don't like to drink," she confessed. "Just do it when I need to get out of my head, you know? Can't be up in there tonight." Finley probably could have gone on, told him more than he needed to know about how her mom was an alcoholic, how she abandoned her job in the middle of a case to chase the ghost of her sister, how she kept picturing her sister dead or worse... but she was never the type for over-share. Not even drunk. So she exhaled heavily and brought her head back up. "I need a distraction, Charlie-Boy. Help a girl out?"