drag your shadow down the street. WHO: Cal and Savannah WHERE: The Capitol & the Full Frost Moon ball WHAT: Slumber party~ WHEN: Way backdated to November 8/9
Savannah never thought she’d ever see such extravagance again considering they were living in a zombie apocalypse, but the ball hosted at the Capitol had quickly proven that wrong. Everything from the decorations to the live band to the gourmet food had blown her away, but also left her sick, thinking about how the people here lived in such luxury while others struggled so much. If the Capitol had the resources to put on an event like this, then why had they even bothered trading supplies with LBJ? With so much excess, they certainly could have just given the library the water and wouldn’t have been put out in the slightest.
By the end of the night she was even more grateful that she’d finally put an end to LBJ’s trade relationship with the Capitol. Once she’d done enough of her duties, ooh-ing and aww-ing at the splendor of the Capitol, she sought out Cal, hoping he would pause his own revelry to show her to his room.
There was no way in hell Savannah was staying in some room that Olinger had prepared for her. He’d probably lock the door and throw away the key, never letting her get back to the library. The only reason she’d felt okay about coming tonight was knowing she had a neutral and safe place to sleep.
Lingering a few steps away, she waited for the opportune moment before stepping forwards and touching Cal’s forearm. “Sorry to interrupt here darlin’ but could I snag your key? I’m about ready to turn in for the night.”
He turned easily at her touch, nodding brief goodbyes to the DoR friends he’d been chatting to (Sanada looking somber yet regal as always, and Fletcher shooting the pretty lady a cocksure grin of his own).
Having kept half an eye on the library blondes over the course of the evening, Cal had noticed the occasional downturn to Savannah’s expression, that flickering betrayal of how she felt about this celebration. The conditions at the Capitol had always sat slightly wrong with him too, a nagging itching awareness beneath his skin concerning the inequalities in the city—he’d been too close to LBJ to forget it, and too accustomed to roughing it himself. But nowhere did it stand out more starkly than at a party like this, with Olinger pulling out all the stops.
Even so, a year ago, Cal might have been more sanguine about it. Today, he’d felt like he was watching the revelry from behind Plexiglass, even as he participated.
“On the bright side, it’s not like you need a designated driver,” he said brightly, draining the last of his drink. “Sure. I’ll walk you back. Literally all of the offices look the same, so it’s easy to get lost in here.” He deposited his now-empty fluted glass on a nearby table draped in blue finery, then crooked out an elbow for Savannah to take, which she easily accepted.
“Didn’t mean to put an early end to your night,” she said as they began walking back towards Cal’s room. “You’re right, though. The no driving is a perk. Y’all have some nice liquor here. Did you enjoy yourself?” It was a polite enough question, one to fill the silence as they walked. And at least if she was focusing on Cal then she wouldn’t have to lie through her teeth out in public.
“Is the library completely dry, then?” he asked, suddenly curious—it had never really come up, alcohol being so easy for him to obtain at the Capitol and now the Trail.
Savannah shook her head in response. “No, we have alcohol. Gray and I had a couple bottles stashed away for somethin’ special. They’re still sittin’ in my room. But most of the alcohol we have is actually for medical reasons. Not a whole lot of medicine to scavenge anymore but a couple shots of moonshine will dull the pain well enough.” She’d worked out a deal with Bishop for a moonshine trade so long as she got him the supplies and it had made Babs pretty happy. Apparently moonshine worked well for medical purposes. It was a little dicier now that Bishop was in La Quinta, though he had reassured her that his prospect Cheney was learning the ropes to the whole operation. At least that had enough stocked up for now, and if all went according to plan, the Officers would be out of prison in no time. That wasn’t something she was going to advertise to Cal, though.
But then Cal was nodding, not quite meeting her eye, instead focusing on getting across the room without stepping on her delicately-heeled foot. “Sure. It’s not every day I get to doll up and take some pretty ladies for a whirl like this—though I can’t say it reminded me of old days, since I have never in my goddamn life been anywhere near a banquet like this before. Even pre-outbreak.”
She gave a brief smile, though it didn’t quite meet her eyes. This whole ordeal had her on edge, and for someone like Cal who’d known her long enough, he could see she wasn’t quite herself. “Consider yourself lucky, darlin’. They were a real bore. I went to a few benefits for my law firm back then, but I was still new enough that I wasn’t about to get drunk in front of my new bosses. Was still tryin’ to make a good impression after all.”
They cut a pretty figure as they swanned their way through the crowd, a pair of blondes stepping through the dark-walled room and then out into the much quieter, more peaceful hallways. (With only the occasional glimpse of a patrolman walking security. They’d always blurred into background scenery in the past, but nowadays Cal found that he noticed the men more and more.)
He’d always said that he wasn’t worried about being seen with Savannah Posey, but once they reached the safety of his room and he unlocked the door, even Cal felt a small knot of tension in his belly ease up.
Perhaps her paranoia was catching.
“So, how’s about your honest review?” he said with a crooked smile, once the door was shut behind them.
A small part of Savannah was still worried that she would bring some kind of trouble to Cal’s doorstep by continuing this friendship, but he was a grown man and could make his own decisions. In the safety of his room, she bent down, slipping off her heels, then visibly shrank several inches as she stepped further into the room flat-footed. It was like watching a palpable weight sink off her shoulders, Savannah looking less like an imperious warrior, more like his friend and drinking partner of years gone by.
Now that they were away from the party, she felt silly standing there in her dress. Moving towards her overnight bag she’d stashed here earlier, she began rummaging around for her pajamas as she replied, “Honestly? I think the sooner I get out of this place the better. No offense to your hospitality, sweetheart, but I don’t really belong here.” Still, her answer was diplomatic at best.
“There was a time when you would have belonged. Lawyers, we’ve got plenty of those. Your type pretty much flocks these halls.” But it was an aimless observation, only half-hearted—looking at her now, Cal realised how much she’d changed. Somewhere over the past couple years, she’d morphed in slow but undefinable ways, until the result wasn’t Capitol-bred at all.
Sometimes he wondered if he actually belonged here, either.
Cal moved aside one of his two straight-backed chairs (this was not a room built for dinner parties). It was a spacious place, though relatively bare: a standard-issue hotel bed shoved into one side of the room, a dining table with various disassembled weapons spread out over the tabletop, rather than cornucopias and decorations. (A lockbox shoved under the bed, hidden beneath folded clothes.) A few of Nate’s books still piled on his endtable, and he had no goddamn idea when he was going to get them back to his friend. He exhaled, loosening his tie.
“I was surprised, honestly, that he sent y’all an invitation,” he said. “Considering.”
“Me too,” Savannah agreed, lips pursing in confusion and, honestly, concern. At least nothing bad had happened so far tonight and she was pretty sure that since now she was safe back in Cal’s room, the luck would continue.
Taking few steps over to Cal, she presented the back of her dress to him and said, “Unzip me and then close your eyes.” He paused for a moment, enjoying the view—could you blame him?—before he stepped closer and caught the zipper, dragging it smoothly down the curve of her spine. Then his head turned obediently to the side. Savannah moved back to her pajamas and made quick work of changing, continuing to talk, “Was sorry to have to put Karen in a tricky situation like that but I’m glad it was her. Who knows what could’ve happened if it were someone else.”
“Depending on who you get: angry acceptance at best. Temper tantrum, worse. Outright refusin’ your decision, at worst.” Cal loved his department fiercely, his band of brothers and sisters, but he held no illusions about the nature of mankind; there were bad eggs everywhere. “She’s sorry about the whole thing, too. As am I. But I get it.”
It was hard to smile and trade water with the people who by all rights might have murdered your near-husband. It was an accident, he knew—had been told—but still, the questions piled up and piled up.
Cal was still looking fixedly at his blank wall, hearing the rustling of cloth from Savannah’s side of the room. He’d been working on an idea, and he finally voiced it now. “Olinger offered you a room, didn’t he? With the invitation.”
Savannah finished pulling one of Gray’s old WVU shirts over her head before turning and looking at Cal, her lips pressing together for a moment before she tried to make light of the situation. “Are you sayin’ you don’t want me to spend the night? Thought we were gonna have a pillow fight,” she said, a teasing tone to her voice, though it didn’t quite reach a true level of jest. Even with Cal, someone she had to believe she was safe with, she still didn’t like staying at the Capitol any longer than necessary.
“Hey, I take my sleepovers extremely seriously. I wanted to watch romantic comedies, paint your nails, get drunk on hard lemonade.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Nah, I was just wondering what sort of arrangement he’d tried and you’d shot down. What sort of game was bein’ played here.”
Calvin Davidson liked his life simple and straight-forward, paint-by-numbers, but he wasn’t stupid—he knew it wasn’t. Just a block away, one of his best and oldest friends rotted away behind bars. It made a man think.
Savannah had never thought Cal was a stupid man, and all her half-hearted tactics of trying to deflect away from the topic of conversation weren’t working, so she didn’t have much of a choice except to drop the act. “Ain’t exactly sure to tell you the truth,” she shrugged, “Some kind of guest room, I guess. Never even went to look at it because I brought my bag straight here. As for games, I’m not lookin’ to play any, which is why I’m not stayin’ in the room Olinger offered me.”
“Smart move, probably.” Hovering uselessly by the table, Cal was dogged by the feeling that there was more he could say, but he shifted gears instead. He’d been a loyal cog in the machine for too long to easily speak against them. “What sorta bed you got over at the Oval Office? You can take mine tonight if you want, and I can take the pull-out. And don’t you dare argue. My ma’s southern hospitality taught me well.”
“Don’t be silly, Cal, the bed is big enough for the both of us,” Savannah said, rolling her eyes, even if his offer was well intended and sweet. “And it might shock you to know, but even if I sleep in the Oval Office, your bed is a lot nicer than mine,” she added, walking over to it and pushing on the mattress. Sure, it might’ve been an old hotel bed, but at least it sat on a real frame instead of wooden pallets like her mattress did.
“Not that shocked, actually. A library ain’t going to be well-stocked in beds, and I can’t see anyone having lugged hotel furniture all the way over there.” His gaze shifted to the door, as if he were considering returning to the party—but then Cal made up his mind, like shrugging off a spare skin. Even with a lock on his door, he wasn’t going to leave her alone here.
Savannah’s paranoia was contagious.
“The last person I had crashing here was my sister,” Cal said suddenly, a little wistfulness creeping into his tone as he moved back over to his stacks of clothes and started unbuttoning his shirt. “You bully me less than she does. You’re pretty okay.”
It hadn’t even crossed Savannah’s mind that Cal might return to the party, so she’d hopped onto the bed and moved to sit against the headboard. Snorting a quiet laugh, she shook her head. “I’m pretty okay? You’ve just decided that now? How long we been friends for, Cal?” She asked, glancing over at him, though deflected her gaze away once she realized he was undressing. After all, she’d made him do the same. It was only polite, even if Cal was nice to look at.
He kept his back turned while changing and accomplished it quickly, efficiently, each movement brusque; he’d honed the art after years of active service, then DoR service. Everything was swift and to-the-point when the sergeant wanted it to be.
Then Cal was down to boxers only, hopping into a well-worn pair of pyjama pants, gargling with mouthwash, spitting into a bucket in the corner. Nighttime routine complete, he hit the lights, drifted back to the bed and claimed his own half of it, unselfconscious. Trying on the formalwear in front of Babs had been harder, someone he didn’t know as well.
“What can I say, it takes me a while to warm up to someone.” His grin was broadening, though; he couldn’t even keep up this particular joke, bald-faced as it was. “No. In all seriousness, it’s good having you over, even if the circumstances are… less than ideal. I know this ain’t your favourite place, but you know you can count on me, yeah?”
Cal bent over the edge of the bed for a moment, fishing under the bed as if checking on something; then he withdrew and settled down once more.
“You’re a real piece of work, Cal Davidson,” Savannah smiled as he settled on the bed next to her. Besides seeing him for drinks on her birthday, it really did feel like it had been ages since they’d spent any real amount of time together. And she’d never miss an opportunity to not have to sleep in a bed alone. Without Gray, nights were a lonely event. Thoughts like that could derail her and lead to nothing good, so instead, she glanced over at the bucket in the corner before looking over to Cal warily.
“You’re not gonna pee in that bucket in the middle of the night are you? I know we been friends for practically forever, but I don’t think we’re on that level yet, sweetheart.”
Cal barked a laugh, an unexpected burst of amusement drawn out of him. “Jesus! That’s for my mouthwash, Sav. Although if you do end up needing to go in the middle of the night, just kick me in the side and I can,” a yawn, the exhaustion from the too- party suddenly hitting him, “escort you. Like a gent.”
Savannah laughed as well before giving him a helpless shrug. “How am I supposed to know that? It’s a bucket in the corner,” she said, nose wrinkling. A bucket full of mouthwash wasn’t any more appealing, honestly, but it was good to know that in the event of a midnight bathroom emergency she would have some place more sophisticated to go.
It was unusual for him to share a bed with someone and not have it mean something more. (A few exhausted hours stolen here and there in the truck didn’t count.) Paradoxically, it made him even more aware of Savannah’s presence, her weight on the mattress and the warmth of her body beside him—but after a moment Cal exhaled and flopped back onto the pillow.
“You a blanket hog?”
“Don’t think so,” she said, shifting down the bed and slipping under the covers. “Though I usually have the dog to cuddle with so if I steal the blankets or get too close, just roll me over.” She missed Finn… hopefully Maizie and Olivia fed him dinner and took him for a walk before it got dark out. Letting out a small sigh, she pulled the blankets up further, trying to push those worries away. There was nothing she could do about it tonight. “Thanks again for lettin’ me stay with you, Cal.”