InsaneJournal

I’ve Thrown My Words All Around
Who: Rylee & Charlie
What: Charlie apologizes to Rylee
Where: Rylee’s Apartment- 706
When: June 11, 8PM
Warnings: A little cursing and a little drunk fun and dirty rambling all rolled into one huge thread.
Notes: This is backdated to after this thread and prior to this one.


The week had been filled with work and study. Rylee had begun a slow but steady search of different schools that would offer a doctorate program for history. He hadn’t intended on jumping into the search so soon; in fact, he had barely thought of it, but maybe the idea to begin the search had developed in his mind due to the events at the mall. He wasn’t going to run away because of Charlie’s refusal of him, but it was a good way for him to deal with the sting.

Beside looking at programs and spending hours at his job, Rylee had done a couple of other things. For starters, when he returned home from the mall with his cheeks still hot with refusal and embarrassment, Rylee shoved the bag of dog treats into the darkest corner of the cabinet under his sink. Following that, Rylee cleaned his apartment, made sure everything was unpacked, categorized his war documentaries, and did some grocery shopping. The one thing he did not do was think about Charlie.

Well, that was a complete lie. But Rylee wouldn’t admit that he had replayed the scene at Subway over and over. He had analyzed how it could have gone differently and why, why he failed so terribly at attracting Charlie. No wonder he was alone.

They hadn’t spoken, hadn’t even seen each other in the halls of the apartment complex. He backed off, as she obviously wanted him to do, and did not to approach her. The ball was in her court, as far as he was concerned, she would have to make the move, and Rylee was proud that after nearly a week he had stuck to this plan. Still the knock at the door came as a complete surprise. It was perhaps even more surprising to find Charlie on the opposite side of his apartment door.

“Um. Hi.” Dressed in capri jeans with flip-flops and a plaid button up shirt, her arms folded behind her back and hair in a neat ponytail, she looked (and felt) relaxed. Work had been eventful, with a stolen credit card and a brief chase through the mall, trying to catch a man who apparently needed a pair of Crocs in his life but couldn’t pay for them.

For the past few days, she’d done nothing but concentrate on work and going out to bars, which for her was perfectly normal, and yet there was a newly minted viciousness to all of it. Usually she took some amount of amusement from her job, and at bars she generally had a good time. Now she just did it all for the sake of distraction.

Finally she’d simply gotten sick of it. First the avoidance because of the night the power went out, and now the mall encounter. If they were going to live in the same apartment building, she had to admit to herself that she’d rather do it on good terms instead of trying to pretend the other didn’t exist.

Finding the nearest gas station, she’d gotten a bottle of Smirnoff, gone home to change out of her security uniform, put Jack on a leash, and steeled her nerves. Rarely did Charlie ever feel nervous, but for some reason there were butterflies flying uproariously around her stomach. But it was too late now, and here she was.

They stood there for an awkward moment, Jack peering around Charlie’s legs with a tilted, curious head. Then Charlie broke the ice by raising the bottle and attempting a forced smile. “Can I come in?”

Only a moment passed where Rylee stood by his door with a clear look of surprise on his face but then he stepped back, opening the door further, and beckoned Charlie in. “Sure, I mean, of course you can come in,” he muttered as he looked at her. Glancing quickly at what she wore and how soft her hair looked, noting that Jack was with her, and of course spotting the bottle of Smirnoff in Charlie’s hand. “What’s that for?”

“It’s, uh...” She took a few steps into his apartment, letting her eyes wander for a moment before turning on one heel to face him again. Jack followed closely at her heels, on his best behavior since he was leashed. “It’s...to say sorry.”

He opened his mouth to reply and quickly closed it, color rising to his cheeks as he glanced down at the ground. He didn’t particularly want to say anything about all of that because it still stung and she wasn’t here to offer her hand, to take a step forward, however she was there and that in itself was important. “Thank you, Charlie.” He reached for the bottle and looked it over, feeling that it was cool to the touch and ready to be had. “You’ll have some with me, won’t you?”

“Um, yeah,” she replied, this time not needing to force or fake a smile. Taking a seat at the bar that separated his kitchen from the living room, she motioned for Jack to take a rest at her feet. Then she seemed to remember that this wasn’t her apartment and that it was possibly rude to force others to accept her potentially intimidating German Shepard. “Oh, uh, I hope it’s OK that I brought him. I swear, he’s trained.”

With a small smile Rylee passed Charlie and retrieved two glasses from a cabinet. “He’s fine. He and I bonded when I was at your apartment during the power outage. And... I, I still have the dog treats.” His cheeks grew more red as he realized that he had hidden the treats so as not to see them and be reminded of their last meeting. “So, do you want the Smirnoff to be mixed with something? I have some juices.”

“I’m good just havin’ it straight,” she replied, folding her arms on the counter top. Jack’s tail thumped the ground, head swiveled in Rylee’s direction as though he could understand the spoken of treats. “And I’m sure he’d love one of them to chew on.” She used a foot to playfully nudge the canine along his spine, the flip-flop left on the floor.

“So,” she started, trying to find a topic of conversation and failing spectacularly. “How...how are you...”

Rylee immediately went to the hiding place of the dog treats, taking the bag out and opening it to retrieve one for Jack. “Here you go,” he replied quietly, still unsure of how to really act around the dog he placed the treat on the floor for him to take as he pleased. Standing back up he returned to the drinks, pouring the vodka straight into two glasses before turning back to Charlie. If she was going to drink it straight, so would he, even if he wasn’t much of a drinker. “Um, I’m okay. Just been doing work, same shit, different day. How are you?”

Her eyes followed his movements, fingers tapping lightly on the counter top. “Fine. Kinda eventful day, by most standards, but nothin’ special. At least you like what you do, though, huh?” Shifting on the seat, she folded one leg over the other, leaving both feet bare as her lingering flip-flop fell to the floor. “Any fun new exhibits?”

He handed her one of the glasses and waved for her to move to the living room; she complied, pulling Jack gently along behind her. Grabbing the bottle he continued forward and sat down on the love seat. “Nothing new right now; we’re completing the current exhibit sometime next month then bringing a new one in. That way the families that are coming in will be able to see two different exhibits during the summer. It’s hard to explain what goes on there, you’d probably be extremely bored by it all, but still you should come and visit in the future... if you’d like.”

Taking a sip of the liquor he fought off the urge to grimace from the burn as it went down his throat. If he could make it through this glass he wouldn’t notice the burn. Hell, he probably wouldn’t notice much. With a nervous need he took another sip.

Claiming a spot on the couch, diagonally across from the loveseat, Charlie got Jack to lay down nearby; the dog did so without protest. She downed her own glass without much issue, with the exception of a quick grimace. Resisting the desire to slam the cup on the coffee table, she instead set it down carefully. “Naw, it sounds like fun. Haven’t been to a museum in ages. Maybe never.” She’d never been one much for touristy things, except local watering holes. “I could stop by. When I have some free time.”

“Stop by whenever you’d like,” Rylee replied with a small smile and then took a larger sip of the vodka. This time it didn’t burn quite as much and Rylee could already feel it turning in his stomach. He wasn’t a big drinker, never had been and doubted he ever would be. Occasionally he’d go out and get obnoxiously drunk; it had been a more common occurrence when he was in the Corps, but since he got out he slacked off to only going out once in awhile. Not only that, but he was incredibly fit, which seemed to only lower his tolerance more.

But he wouldn’t let Charlie drink him under the table that easily. He took another mouthful of the liquor and swallowed it down. “I feel like I could finish this bottle tonight.” He waved the bottle at Charlie, beckoning her still to come into the living room. If she wanted more, she’d have to sit near him. Well then, the liquor was already working wonders by making Rylee a little demanding.

“You makin’ this into a contest? I gotta warn you, I might be turnin’ into my daddy with these bottles, at least with his tolerance,” she jokingly replied. Her cup was empty and he wasn’t offering to refill it, so she reached out to take the bottle from his hand, which required her to balance on the edge of her seat. Not the best job of hosting, but Charlie didn’t hold it against him.

“Not a contest,” Rylee replied quietly as he stared at his drink. His head was already feeling fuzzy but he wasn’t going to tell Charlie that. He simply wanted to keep up with her. With a nostalgic pain Rylee realized he was always trying to keep up with her, even when they had been kids, especially when they had been kids. “Do you want it to be a contest?” He looked up at her and made a small smile before lifting the glass in some type of a toast and bringing it to his lips.

Snatching the bottle from his grasp, she did the polite thing and refilled her glass with another finger of vodka instead of drinking it straight from the bottle. Giving Rylee a bit of a grin, she gave the bottle a new home between them, standing like a lighthouse on the edge of the coffee table.

“Rye, no offense or nothin’, but it wouldn’t be no contest between us,” she chided, enjoying the easy camaraderie they’d fallen into. How long would it last this time?

His cheeks were beginning to redden due to a mixture of his shy nature and the alcohol entering his blood stream. He smiled and looked down at his drink. “I can hold my liquor and drink a lot... I just get drunk very quickly. I don’t work tomorrow so... that can happen tonight. If you would like... I don’t want to drink by myself.” This was the closest he could get to saying ‘please let’s get drunk together’ and the effort quickly brought the glass of liquor to his lips again. It didn’t burn as much as it went down this time.

“Drinkin’ by yourself is never fun. S’why I go out to bars.” She was slowly finding herself watching him carefully from the back of her mind. He hadn’t chastised her for keeping so many secrets from him, and he wasn’t upset about what had happened at the mall. Part of her kept expecting some sort of reprimand, but she liked that they were skipping that part in favor of moving things along. Maybe they wouldn’t have to address any of that at all.

Knocking back the drink with ease born of long drinking hours, she helped herself to some more. “But then that involves talkin’ to people, and there’s never shit to talk about.”

He could think of a million things to talk to Charlie about but he knew that she would never talk back. His feelings, how beautiful she looked, their fight(s), and the coincidence that was their finding themselves here in California together. But he kept that to himself and finished his glass. He leaned forward, grabbing the bottle, and felt himself sway. Was he really that much of a lightweight? But he ignored the sway, hoping that Charlie hadn’t seen it, and quickly poured himself another glass. “I don’t go to bars very often. I don’t really know where any good ones are around here. Do you know?”

He felt his tongue growing fat in his mouth, lazy from the liquor, but continued along as if nothing was happening and he certainly wasn’t getting drunk. His question incited a laugh from her, a somewhat obnoxious sound. “Can’t really be sure - if it’s a good place, I usually get kicked out of it. 48’s my record, goin’ strong. Soon enough I’ll have to drive more’n five miles to find a bar in the area, period.”

The liquor went down smoothly, relaxing her, and she leaned back on the couch, knees together. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, her close observation of him and lifetime experience with drunks showing her the tell-tale signs of someone nearing their limit.“You doin’ all right there, cowboy?”

Rylee’s eyes snapped to Charlie and narrowed slightly as he tried to see her a little clearer. “Getting kicked out? Charlie what are you doing to get kicked out?” He made a crooked smile and giggled slightly. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” He took another swig and grinned at Charlie, sitting up straight and trying very hard to appear completely sober while the wall behind Charlie swayed.

“What do you think I’m doin’ to get kicked out? Same as always.” Her voice was chiding, her lips curling in amusement of his ever further inebriated state. Draining her glass, she set it on the coffee table next to the one-fourth empty bottle. “Rye, your words are slurrin’ worse than tryin’ to look out a window when it’s rainin’. Maybe I outta cut you off.”

Narrowing his eyes in annoyance, Rylee snatched the bottle and clutched it in his hand. “You’re not cuttin’ me off. I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.” He adamantly took a gulp of the alcohol straight from the bottle before sitting it back on the table and continuing with the glass he had. He grinned at Charlie once more then leaned his elbows on his knees. “It’s very nice that you came all the way up here to see me, Charlie. It’s even nice to see yer dog.” He pointed at Jack with a finger, his hand slightly shifting in the air before he brought his hand to his hair and scratched his scalp. “He’s a nice dog.”

Her brows raised at Rylee’s show of testosterone, which in her eyes just came off comically - no matter how beefy or military trained or old he became, he’d always be the fifteen-year-old boy who shared a PB&J sandwich with her. Jack, however, responded to the attention wholeheartedly, rising up to sit on his haunches for a closer scritching from a man who smelled like he was saturated in alcohol. His head tilted, tongue lolling out of his mouth happily.

“He’s a very nice dog, indeed,” she agreed, her words a little slow, though more out of caution than any drunkenness. “And I just wanted to...I dunno, try to make things right. Between us, I mean.” She was trying not to stumble, but apologies were not her strong suit.

The only sobering this statement did for Rylee was to make the smile disappear from his face. Otherwise, his head was still quickly becoming muddled with the alcohol and now he felt he needed it more than he ever previously did. So he finished his glass and poured another. “Thank you, Charlie.” His words were thick with the alcohol but he didn’t realize it. “I want things to be okay. I want you to be my best friend. I want you to be more but if I can’t have that I want you to be my best friend.”

He looked at her for a moment then the tiny remaining sober portion of his mind caused a fraction of panic as he realized what he just said. In order to sidestep his horror, he got to his feet with a goal of getting chips from his kitchen but all he did was sway and plop back down on the couch, looking surprised as to how he got there.

Now her brows climbed all the way up her forehead, eyes wide at the sudden statement. A laugh bubbled up from her throat at his attempt to escape his words, which evolved into more giggles, all of which were her response to him. “Rye, you are so drunk right now, you better watch what you say. Otherwise, people might start takin’ you seriously!” Putting a light hold on the neck of the bottle, she moved it from one side of the coffee table to the other, away from Rylee. “Any more and you’re gonna start admitting that you like wearin’ women’s clothes in your free time, and I dunno if I could handle that kinda information.”

He glared at Charlie then looked down at his glass, nearly forgetting that he had just poured himself another drink, then brought it to his lips. “I don’t like wearin’ women’s clothes and you know it. Just Civil War stuff once in awhile. But I can’t even fit into that stuff anymore. My shoulders are too big.” He pouted and stared at his glass, frowning further when he realized it was nearly halfway finished and Charlie had hold of the bottle. His eyes focused on her and the bottle as he sized up his opportunity. He had left sobriety behind and now was officially drunk. “I’d rather be naked then wear girls clothes.”

“What, you got somethin’ against girls?” Instantly changing tack, and more for the amusement than to actually start and argument, she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, closing a bit of distance between them in a conspiratorial manner. “And when did you take up a nudist streak?”

For a nearly panicked moment Rylee looked at Charlie and began to backpedal. “No, I just think I’d look really stupid in a dress.” Then his lopsided grin returned and he leaned closer to Charlie, almost straight into her, but stopped himself with only a slight touch of their foreheads coming together; Charlie leaned back, the amused expression on her face becoming permanent. “I’m only nude when I’m here by myself. I never did it back home cause you know how all my neighbors were nosey as hell. They would’ve seen me and told my mama and I didn’t wanna have to explain to her why I was walkin’ around naked.”

He pulled back quickly and finished the glass. Already he had lost count of how many glasses he had. Incredulous, Charlie stared at Rylee for a moment before laughing again. “Rylee Ekholm, you are drunker than a skunk and you really gotta watch what you say.” The idea of being flustered or embarrassed by the image of him walking around the very space they were in, wearing nothing but his birthday suit, was a foreign concept to her. Instead, her mouth curved deviously. “No way in hell you’d be walkin’ around naked; you’d be too nervous you’d smack somethin’ into the family jewels.”

“I do it here!!! I don’t smack anything into the jewels. And I only hurt myself those like... one... two... two times when we were kids. And both times were your fault. You kicked that soccer ball at me and the other time it was your idea for me to climb that fence.” He looked offended for a moment until his mind turned and he thought of something he would be willing to smack his family jewels into and a devilish grin grew on his face. He coughed slightly and got to his feet, swaying and spinning slightly to point at Charlie. “You. Do you want chips?”

She narrowed her eyes, and combined with the curve of her mouth, the entire expression gave her a sinister cast. Relaxing her features, she adopted a curious look, leaning back on the couch. “Sure. Chips sound nice. You sure you can make it to the kitchen? You look like a sailor that just met dry land after ten years at sea.”

“I’m fine, you just sit there and keep my liquor captive.” He stumbled his way towards the kitchen, pausing to pat Jack on the head as he went, then made his way back with the chips. He threw the bag at Charlie and collapsed onto the couch. He lay there on his stomach, one arm curled under his chin, and the other hanging off the couch. “Charlie, I just wanted you to know that I’m very thankful that you told me about the PTSD and it’s totally okay with me. Although I also know you don’t give a shit if it’s okay with me or not. But I wanted you to know.”

A hand flew up to grab the chips midair, head swiveled in his direction. At first she made no reply, instead turning her attention to the bag and ripping it open with a little more strength than necessary. A handful of chips went flying through the air, landing on her and on the couch. Grabbing up the ones on her shirt, she stuffed them into her mouth as though to give her silence an excuse.

“Mmk,” she started, unsure of how to respond. “Chu’re right ‘bout ‘hat.” Swallowing, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “It’s just somethin’...I don’t like to talk about. I don’t think there’s nothin’ wrong with that.” She stuffed another handful of chips into her mouth before continuing, spraying little bits of partially chewed chips into the air. “But yer gonna tell me aneway, so’s chu go ahead and get’er over with.”

“I’m goin’ to tell you what?” Rylee said with a quick lift of his head. Then he grew tired, drunk as he was, and lost his interest. He plopped his head back down and reached with one strong arm to poke Charlie in the knee once before pulling his hand away as if she burned him. “I know I’m a big baby, you’re real good at tellin’ me that I am, but ya did hurt my feelin’s when ya pulled your hand back from me. Are ya that scared of me?” He let out a miserable sigh and closed his eyes for a brief moment. “I dunno what ya want from me.”

Thrusting the chips away from her and onto the coffee table, Charlie stood and walked away from the couch. Jack’s head followed her trajectory as she moved away from Rylee and around the loveseat. She’d come here to mend fences, but she hadn’t been expecting to address these issues. Crossing her arms over her chest and feeling a comfortable distance away from him, she felt better about returning fire. “And who said I’m scared of you? You can’t even flush a spider down the toilet! Maybe I just didn’t want you to hold my hand, is that so much to ask?”

“Spiders,” Rylee said with a flourish. “Spiders are very creepy. They move fast because they have more feet than you do.” He twisted on the couch with a poor attempt to roll onto his back but only ended up rolling directly onto the floor. Rylee wasn’t a small man. He was over six feet tall and made of solid muscle so the fall, although a short distance, made enough of a bang that the glass in the kitchen cabinets shivered. “Ow,” Rylee replied then began to laugh, putting both hands over his face and moving them back through his hair.

Charlie rolled her eyes, turning away from him for a moment to quickly wipe at them with her fingers. She wasn’t tearing up, she just had something in her eye, and if Rylee was going to go back to bringing up this shit, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle it half-inebriated as she was.

“I gotta pee. Where’s the bathroom? Nevermind, I’ll find it myself,” she muttered aloud, moving swiftly through the dining room and back through the apartment, disappearing entirely from view. Jack, meanwhile, carefully moved to all four feet and started to investigate the fallen man with a careful sniffing about his head.

When Charlie returned, neither Rylee nor Jack were in view, and she heard the faint whining of a dog followed by a shushing noise. Brow furrowed, she closed in on the couch, looking over it to the sight of Rylee holding her dog hostage on the floor.

Jack was a rather snuggly dog, Rylee discovered as he held the canine close to him and the dog lay happily by his side. He was a big dog, but he was comfy too, something else Rylee discovered as he rested his head on Jack’s side. “Spiders, they’re so bad. Then they follow you. They always do. If you don’t kill them and just leave them alone they won’t just go. Noooo, they have to just watch over you while you sleep and try and crawl into your ear. You are a nice dog.” He patted Jack and snuggled his face more into the dogs coat. Rylee was completely oblivious of Charlie’s presence for the moment and didn’t seem to mind.

Leaning forward on the couch, the ghost of an amused smile on her lips, Charlie stared at the picture in front of her.

“Rylee. Rylee? Why are you on the floor?”

“Hmmm,” he paused for a moment then began to stroke Jack’s fur. “I am cuddling with you. Duhhh. Hmmm, Charlie? Charlie. I think that you need some of that stuff for your hair. That comforter? Conditioning? Conditioner. You need that conditioner stuff for your hair. It is not very soft right now. It always looks so soft.” His voice cracked and then he went silent again, petting Jack’s fur while he kept his eyes closed. “It got shorter too.”

She bit back an abrupt laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. A moment later she managed to pull herself together, and slid down onto folded arms, resting on the top of the couch. “Um, Rye...”

“Nooo,” he immediately whined, hugging Jack close to his body and making the dog grunt. “No you can not leave. Not yet. Don’t Ryry me. You’re so pretty, even when you’re a grumpy face. Mmmm I want tacos.”

This time she laughed aloud, not bothering to attempt to hide it. She dug into her pocket to pull out her phone, a simple flip-open affair, but still stocked with a video camera. Ducking around the couch, and feeling much better than she had a moment ago, she retook her seat and hit the record button. “So how do I look when I’m grumpy?”

“Like this.” He scrunched his blond eyebrows together and made a face that was nothing close to the bitch face Charlie usually had on display. “You always have the grumpy face on. Your face is so pretty! But you don’t have the grumpy face with me all the time. Which is good cuz you know my mama was always tellin’ you to smile. I don’t think she’d like the way you’re keepin’ your hair though, Charlie.” He rubbed his face against Jack again and groaned. “I’m sorry but I... I think you gotta go shower soon too. You smell like your dog.”

She kept the video camera trained on his face, far too amused by this. The blackmail potential was too high for her to stop now. “How you feelin’, lush? You’re gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”

“I am not a lush!” He nearly shouted and abruptly rolled away from Jack, setting him free as Rylee curled up into the fetal position. “I don’t drink often, you know that. Why you gotta tease me? That’s very mean, Charlie.” He whined from his curled up position for a moment until one hand shot up and began to blindly search for the bottle of liquor again. Jack took the opportunity to roll onto his back, thinking to lure Rylee into a belly rub. Charlie instantly darted for the bottle of alcohol, easily removing it from Rylee’s grasp.

“Um, no, I think you’re done: I mean, admitting to wearing women’s clothing, hitting on me, and cuddling with my dog? Yeah, you’ve had too much,” she teased, moving backward away from the couch and toward the kitchen.

“I am not wearing women’s clothes!” Rylee sat up with a flourish and pulled at his shirt, ripping it off and balling it up to throw it in a corner. “I am not wearing a shirt either!” He swiveled his head around and looked at Charlie. “Where are you going with my present?” His eyes grew large and he looked near tears for a moment while he sat there on the floor beside the happy dog.

Despite Charlie’s tough-girl demeanor, she was not entirely insusceptible to the idea of adorable things. Her definition was just tweaked a little differently than most of the female gender - but right now, Rylee certainly fit that definition, and the warring emotions between her semi-drunken thoughts and the fact that she was trying to not screw up their friendship any further put a rather confused expression on her face. Instantly she covered it up. “I’m taking it away for now and leaving some for later, ‘cause I’d rather not see you turn into an alkie, mmk?”

Setting the bottle to rest on the bar counter, she turned back around and leaned on the couch once more, camera focused on Rylee. “So it looks like you won that fight with your shirt. What’re you gonna do now?”

He focused on Charlie with intense concentration then slowly lifted a hand to point directly at her. “I am goin’ to get ya to come’ere. Okay? So you come’ere. Come here. Please? You alcohol bandit. I lost my shirt. Did ya steal that too? You always are talkin’ ‘bout my shirts and my chest. I bet ya did. Tiny thief.” He closed his eyes slowly for a moment, his head drooping slightly, then he regained energy and perked back up to point at Charlie again while he still waited for her to come over.

Interested to see where this would go, she cautiously moved around the couch. “Yeah, I totally stole your shirt. Right off your back. That’s how good I am. But don’t you go makin’ comments about my height.” Soon she was standing about three feet away, a safe distance, but certainly on the other side of the couch. “Here I am. Now what?”

Despite his drunken state he moved quickly, lunging forward he tackled Charlie, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her to the ground; her phone went flying from her hand, and she gave out a surprised yelp as he dragged her down. Sandwiched between the content Jack (who merely panted more at the attention) and the drunk Rylee, Charlie attempted to squirm to freedom.

Immediately, Rylee buried his face against Charlie’s back. “Mmm, ya smell better now, tiny thief. You are tiny to me. You’re pocket sized but that’s a good thing! I love your pockets. Ya know size doesn’t matter...” Rylee snorted and let go of Charlie, rolling onto his back. His voice became more husky as he rambled on. “Well some sizes do matter.” Blindly he reached out and stroked Charlie’s hair with a smirk playing on his lips. She quickly sat up, scooting closer to her dog, sliding a hand through her hair.

“All right, lush, I think maybe it’s time for bed for you. Before you pull out anymore sly tricks.” Climbing to her feet, she faced him and bent down to wrap her hands around his left wrist. Charlie gave a pull, not hard enough to attempt to disconnect his limbs, but hopefully to give him an idea of what was going on.

“Bed?” Rylee mumbled then sat up. He opened his eyes and looked up at Charlie with a sad expression that suddenly turned ecstatic. He twisted his wrist around and grabbed Charlie’s hand, giving it a shake and a squeeze. “Charlie! When did ya get here??” He looked around and saw Jack. “And Jack too!” Jack merely panted in reply, laying on his side and looking for all the world as though he were grinning widely.

She rolled her eyes, giving him another tug. “Come on, you shirtless tree, get up. Don’t make me drag you down this floor, ‘cause I promise you I’ll make it hurt. Unless you wanna sleep here.” Maybe she was too drunk to realize it, but the hand holding this time around didn’t bother her. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she’d initiated it, and also that it didn’t have any strings attached. Or maybe she was just drunker than she thought.

Rylee frowned again, his normal nervous control over his facial expressions completely destroyed by the alcohol, so as he pouted he really pouted. Watery blue eyes included. For a moment, she had a strange sensation in her chest, and then she realized that her heart was aching just a little bit. “I don’t want ya to hurt me,” he said in a small voice as he climbed to his feet, still holding Charlie’s hand as he towered beside her but quickly stumbled as the alcohol hit him again. “Where did my shirt go? Why are we goin’ to bed? I am gettin’ real tired though...”

“We are not goin’ to bed, you are,” she corrected, pulling him along by the arm. “You took your shirt off, and I ain’t gonna hurt you. I was only teasin’.” Slowly she led him along the small hallway that led to his bedroom. He followed without comment, stumbling along and muttering to himself as he went. She encouraged him to take smaller steps, and pulled in against his fall when he started to teeter. Then she had him next to the bed, him shirtless and very drunk. Spinning around him carefully, she gave him a light push toward the bed. Down he went, face first onto the bed where he lay with his butt in the air.

“So hot,” Rylee muttered, pulling his arms out from underneath him and tugging at his pants. If he was sober there would be no way that he would be doing what he did next. He pulled down his jeans, exposing his skivvy shorts that he still favored to wear, and got one foot out of the pants leg but loosing the battle with the other leg; Charlie laughed, then grabbed his other pant leg to help pull it off. “You’re a bad influence, Charlie,” he muttered as he reached out and grabbed her hand again, intertwining his fingers with her, and giving it a shake much like before. “A very bad influence.”

“Oh? And why do’yah say that? You gonna say that you didn’ have any fun, traipsin’ around town with me and causin’ trouble?” She unlatched his hand, and turned him over on the bed, treating him like a large baby. The fact that she was essentially handling his very muscular body did not escape her, but she pushed it to the back of her mind for the moment, instead focused on making him comfortable.

“I did have fun!!! That was half of why you’re a bad influence. I never woulda thought to do that stuff on my own. Now you’ve got me drunk!” He giggled slightly, allowing Charlie to manhandle him and enjoying it greatly. Laying flat on his back he dropped one hand to his side and with the other, scratched as his bare abs. “But the drunk is ok. So is the other stuff.”

He smiled at her, gazing up at her with his bright blue eyes, then made a similar move as before. Reaching forward he grabbed her and pulled her upper half down onto his naked chest; this time Charlie just maneuvered her hands and arms to outside of his hugging radius, palms landing flat on the bed. He hugged her tightly, stroking her hair, and continued muttering. “I missed you, Charlie. Your alcohol is good.” He let go of her, collapsing onto the bed again, and yawned. Raising herself up to a sitting position next to Rylee on the bed with her legs folded underneath her, she gave a little shake of her head to his ridiculous actions.

Near enough to feel his body heat but no longer having physical contact, and yet it was close enough for a sudden and quick acting blush to color her cheeks. Charlie had never before been prone to acts of embarrassment, and she quickly flipped her legs out in front of her and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Hope yer not expecting me to read yah a bedtime story, lush. I’ll leave some water on yer nightstand, ‘cause you might have one hell of a headache tomorrow...”

“No, no bedtime stories. Water will be nice. You’re so nice,” Rylee mumbled as he rolled to his side, accidentally pressing his bare stomach against her. He reached out and drunkenly stroked Charlie’s cheek. “You’re all pink, Charlie. It’s pretty.” Suppressing the reaction to slap his hand away, she scooted forward and off of the bed, padding to the doorway. With one hand on the frame, she glanced back for a moment before continuing on out of the room and to the kitchen.

The sound of cupboards opening and closing loudly announced her search for a cup, and a little more than five minutes later she appeared back in his bedroom with a glass of water. Carefully placing it on the nightstand, she kept herself a safe distance from the bed. “All right. Now. Go to sleep.”

In the time that it took for Charlie to return Rylee had rolled onto his stomach and was falling asleep. Her voice alerted him and he opened his eyes, smiled once more, but didn’t make a move to get off of the bed. “Why don’t you sleep too like when we were little? You used to sleep over all the time.”

“Yeah, Rye, I’ll go crash on the couch. You go to sleep, all right?” It would be a lot like when they were kids, except she always had the bed (on his insistence) while he slept on a beanbag chair on the floor. Waiting a few moments for some kind of response, she was gratified to hear nothing but the sound of his breathing in the dark, and slowly she tip-toed out of the room.

Back in the living room, she gave Jack another pat on the head, sitting on the couch in the unfamiliar space. Having her dog, and Rylee in another room over, made her at least feel welcome. “Better settle down, boy, we’re staying here tonight.” Following her command, the German Shepard stretched out on the floor with a deep sigh, and Charlie laid down likewise on the couch. Her eyes met the ceiling for a few moments before the length of the day combined with the interesting evening closed them and allowed her some sleep.