WHO: Gretchen Watkins & Trev Scabior WHAT: stuff! WHERE: Trev's house WHEN: friday night WARNING/RATING/STATUS: None/R?/Ongoing
Gretchen was drunk. Not quite drunk enough to pass out, but probably too drunk to Apparate and yet that was just what she did. Closing her eyes and spinning in place, she managed somehow to pop into existence without incident in Trev's living room. "Trev!" she hollered, flopping onto the couch and closing her eyes until the room stopped spinning.
She'd had a good day. One of her contacts had pointed her in the direction of a now unoccupied, yet filled with beautiful shiny things and she'd darted through, pocketing things that caught her attention and making plans to sell the rest. Not only that, but she'd found out that the last of the goblins had been let go from the Gringott's camp in Giza, and humans were so much easier to fool. They couldn't smell treasure or whatever creepy ability goblins had.
A celebratory drink had seemed like an excellent idea at the time, but she'd neglected to take into account the fact that she'd skipped eating to explore the Muggleborn's house and the drinks had hit her harder than expected.
She pushed off the couch and crossed the living room, pushing open the window and leaning out, the chilly night air reinvigorating her.