Katina Choovanski

Katchoo had, by some twist of fate or sick joke on the part of the universe, managed to completely miss seeing Francine at all since she'd woken up this morning, and wasn't even aware Francine was at the reunion; she hadn't exactly gone out of her way to ask. She left her current phone number with Francine's mother whenever she moved or changed phones, but that had, for the better part of the last couple of decades, been the extent of her contact with her erstwhile best friend.

She'd spent the day wandering the island, checking out her old haunts and taking time out every now and then to field a call from Rosa and make arrangements for her latest gallery showing, and it was well after dark by the time she made it down to the beach.

Katchoo didn't set foot on beaches much these days, living in Santa Fe as she did, and they were tied up in some bittersweet memories for her. Not that it stopped her from taking a moment to just stand there, looking out across the reflection of moonlight on the waves, and thinking back. She might be mellower now than she'd been in her high school days, but she hadn't broken the habit of brooding yet, and wasn't about to start now.

[OOC: For one, la. Re PB, yes, I think I'm hilarious and thatsamilkshake encouraged me.]

So there was a Talk to be had, that hadn't been had yet. After work Katchoo had stopped by J,GoB, because this was the sort of thing that needed a ridiculous assortment of munchies, preferably chocolate-covered and requiring lots of butter, so there was a large box of said munchies lying on her hastily-cleared nightstand. The occasional muffled beep from the closet hinted at the fact that Clocky'd been banished for the time being.

Now all she needed was the love of her life. Or, you know, her best friend. And roommate.

Because that wasn't awkward at all.

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.]