Somewhere in the Preserve, Sunday Late Morning

[thismaskiwear]

There wasn't anything new or unusual about waking up with Francine, at least not to Katchoo's groggy way of thinking when she opened her eyes, except that all the times it had happened before had been a couple of years ago. And all those times she'd opened her eyes to the sight of Francine's bedroom, and the realization shortly thereafter of the ache from several dozen new bruises, cuts, and other injuries she'd rather not have thought about but which had been the entire reason she'd snuck over the previous night. Plus they'd been much more comfortable than being . . . curled up against a tree in the middle of the preserve.

And none of those times had ever been preceded by anything like last night. The familiar peace was the same, though, the surest feeling in the world that she was home and everything was right.

Katchoo had a (*#$#in' neck cramp going on, but she was reluctant to move, like if she so much as twitched the leg that must have gone numb hours ago and woke Francine, all of this would just dissipate like a bubble floating down and grazing a blade of grass.

[OOC: For the other crazy toongirl, of course.]

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[thatsamilkshake]

Francine, too, was familiar with this, waking with her arms around Katchoo and the smell of slightly cigarette-scented hair in her face. Familiar enough that when the sounds of morning in the woods filtered in, it took her a moment -- and then her eyes flew open wide, because yes. That thing there about the bruises and the cuts, and she was touching the cheek pressed against her shoulder so gently she might just have been breathing on it. "Chewie?"

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo did shift, just barely, at the sensation of Francine's hand on her cheek.

"Is it morning ag -- Francie?"

[thatsamilkshake]

"Just me. You o--" She never quite got to the --kay, just froze there where she was. Frozen, not still. You could tell, if she was touching you.

Tree. Grass. Familiar like yesterday, different hair, no cigarettes. Bonfire. Dancing. A castle by the mall.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Yeah, this was familiar to Katchoo, too. More comfortable than yesterday, that was for damn sure. Damn Merlin and his bony -- oh, god. Oh mother@#*(@#in' god.

Except this was different, dammit, this was Francine and this was the way it should be, but she was the only one who realized it.

"Just fine," she mumbled, the sullenness in her voice due to the fact that she knew Francine damn well enough to be able to tell how she'd just frozen up.

[thatsamilkshake]

"Oh..."

Francine stared somewhere out into the trees.

"Oh my God."

At least she unfroze enough to cover her mouth with her hand. That was good, right?

....Right?

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Right. Maybe. Except for the part where Katchoo wondered how much of that mouth-covering had to do with, you know, where her lips had been not that many hours ago.

"Easy, Francie," Katchoo said, sitting up a bit. "Must've been some weird kind of Fandom crap."

Dammit. She hated that she had to say that.

[thatsamilkshake]

"Something weird," Francine half-repeated dizzily. "But I...and then... and oh my God!" She scrambled up, not intentionally pushing Katchoo away, just getting herself out of.... Oh, who even knew.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo tried to laugh, but didn't manage much more than a halfhearted huff. "Not that bad, Francie. Wasn't like any of us were in our right minds anyway."

She was pretty sure she'd been thinking just fine last night, though, thanks.

[thatsamilkshake]

No. She definitely wasn't in her right mind. That, Francine was sure of, even if everything else was...not as fuzzy as she'd like it to be, and not as clear as... maybe she'd just stick with Oh God.

"How bad?" I look at you and I see... "I remember..." Arthur being a perfect gentleman. There was that, oh thank God there was that, and then there was the party and. And. "What did we do?"

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Not giving a direct answer annoyed Katchoo, but right now the resultant freakout if she was blunt would hurt more.

I'll hate you if you don't, that was what Francine had said last night. And that, Katchoo realized, could probably be credited entirely to the spell, or whatever the hell it had been that had her practically trying to eat Merlin alive the day before.

"Nothing that involved the removal of clothing, Francie." Damn good thing her voice was always this hoarse; who'd notice an extra crack or two? "Your virtue's perfectly safe."

[thatsamilkshake]

"Oh. Oh, good. Oh, yeah. Good. Thank God." Francine pretended so hard that the words relieved her, back pressed against the tree for balance and breath coming in tiny, measured gulps, that she almost believed it for a second.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo scooted away from her, since it was obviously that goddamn traumatizing, and pulled her knees up to her chest, staring at the dirt.

Fascinating forest floor, really.

"Geez, Francine, it couldn't have been that bad."

[thatsamilkshake]

It could have. It so could have.

It should have.

"No, no, I just..." Francine shook her head, at least a little of Katchoo's tone penetrating her panic attack, but not enough to burst the balloon, just enough to redirect it. "I just remember waking up with Arthur, and going to the party." Will you hate me if I kiss you? "Everything after that's a big--" Huge. Lie. "--blur."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Well, there had been a whole lot of internal monologuing, and Katchoo vaguely remembered something about teal deer, but . . .

She turned and eyed Francine slowly.

She'd known Francine since they were in seventh grade; she totally didn't buy that.

"You're not missing much," she said, looking away.

[thatsamilkshake]

"Well... good," Francine said again. Slowly. Gratingly, even in her own ears. "I'm glad I didn't do anything too stupid. Bad enough I've got explain to Merlin why I was all over his boss." Oh God, Merlin. Gaaaah.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Oh, god," Katchoo muttered. She really, really needed to shower. A lot. "Like I was all over him?"

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine risked a glance over at her. She couldn't put a name to the feeling that made her lips tighten a little at that, but saying, "Don't worry. He knows you're not into boys," made it... oh cool, twice as bad.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Mother@#&*()@ sonofa*#!)%," Katchoo snarled, and continued in that vein for several minutes.

Which probably wasn't helping either, was it?

[thatsamilkshake]

Not really, no. "Don't you go off on him, Katchoo. It's not his fault." Merlin was very, very lucky that neither of them knew it was.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

And also that Katchoo lived somewhat in fear of the Francine sadface.

"Did I say it was?" she snapped once she'd bled off enough of the random punctuation incoherent rage to form brief sentences again. "This is just . . . god, what a frikkin' mess."

She pushed herself slowly to her feet -- thanks for dropping by, fleeting but perfectly vivid memory of hanging on to Francine for balance last night. "We oughta get you back to the cabins, get a shower, all that crap."

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine turned another hiccup into a long, slow breath. "Yeah. Shower. Shower would be good." She shot another glance at Katchoo, but only made it about as high as her ankles this time. "Why don't you go first. There's only the one bathroom." She pointed in a direction she hoped was off toward the cabins. "I'll catch up."

That didn't count as walking away, not when you made the other person leave first.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Sure, Francine, keep telling yourself that.

"You better go first. I might never get out of there." She knew damn well it was pretty much walking away with a thin veneer of finger-pointing on it, but Katchoo started picking her way toward (she hoped) the cabins anyway, just wanting to find her alcove and the stash of booze under the bed in there.

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine leaned against the tree for a moment longer before she followed, fighting down the brief insane notion that times like this would be much better if she smoked.

Then fighting back the realization of how clearly she could remember the taste of tobacco on her lips.