Re: Log: Meredith/Sam
[She was across the bar, and she didn't notice the redhead at first, yeah? She didn't see the woman come in, and she only noticed the bartender's repeat movements to the same part of the sticky bar because repetition, that kind of shit was easy to spy with white-powder clarity. She lost track of glasses delivered, and she'd barely touched her own fucking coffee, and then she looked up and finally saw the redhead's face. And, ok, so she was pretty sure Meredith's mouth wasn't actually moving, but a bunch of shit was doing things it wasn't supposed to do that afternoon. She was fucked up in so many ways, and she should probably just fucking leave. Not talk to the redhead in her perfect fucking clothes.
But fucked up, Sam was even less restrained than normal. She shoved her coffee away, and she crossed to where Meredith was. Probs drunk, yeah? All those fucking drinks.
She tapped the other woman hard on the shoulder - ok, shoved, maybe.] Yeah? This is what you fucking do? [Constricted pupils, and Sam's eyes were an ocean of inky blue.] You think he can't smell this shit on you once you get home? Huh? You think he's a fucking retard or something?