The House Always Wins - 31. Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

Michael motioned the bartender over and spoke to him. The bartender replied, looked at me, held up five fingers. The look Michael threw at me was less than amused, and he made a ‘no more' gesture. The bartender nodded and retreated off to a safe distance. It looked like he expected all hell to break loose. But that wasn't what would happen. Instead, Michael's hand tightly gripped my elbow and he pulled me off the stool, probably planning to kick my sorry butt back upstairs.

That was a bad idea, actually. Normally I never drink, but if and when I do, please let me remain seated at all times, because as soon as I stand up and walk, I dunno - maybe it's because blood pumps faster or something - but as soon as that happens, I'm done for the night; drunk as a sailor.

So when I felt the ground beneath my feet, I wobbled a little, and then just let myself fall against Michael; he seemed as good as any place to hold on to for support.

"Why do you insist on making my li... woah there... easy now," he said, staggering back. I giggled drunkenly, and dragged my arm around his neck.

"Hey...'lo. Funny meetin' you ere," I slurred, "you wanna ‘ve a drink? Yo, barguy..."

"No, no, no," Michael said quickly, as I turned towards the bar again. He pulled me back. "You've had enough. I'm taking you home. You need to go to bed and get some sleep."

"I don' wanna sleepeepeep," I replied, shaking my head. "Uhm... e's there." Ooh, that shaking didn't really help. The ground swam beneath me.

"Who's there?" he asked.

"That b'stard."

"Ah... He's gone now, didn't you know that? Yes, we kicked him out," he said.

"Oh, good. Okidoki then...take me home..."

Then I giggled again, continuing with the fragment of a song in my head.

"MMmm... country roads... take me home...V'ginia..."

"Oh, for god sakes," Michael groaned, "Scott! A hand, please?"

"Ey, d'you know Clp... Cipso... Calypso? Ding ding," I said, trying to knock him on his forehead. That one went way wide. Then, when Scott Freeman, the security chief, gave a helping hand, he became my new best friend. "Beam me up, Scotty. I'm a wee bit tipsy."

"He's all over the place, isn't he?" Freeman snickered. "You are beyond tipsy, my friend. You're wasted."

"El'gantly wasted," I sang, expanding my repertoire to INXS material.

"At least he remembers you," Michael replied wryly. "Or at least your name. Okay, let's go."

**********

"Step... step.... no, your left foot, you idiot...step...left...I said LEFT... there we go. Come on, through there," Michael's voice sounded. "Left... that's it... righ...okay, left." We arrived in the bedroom, finally, and as soon as I saw the bed, I stretched out my arms at it.

"Heaven."

"Yes, that's heaven. Step..."
It took some time to get there.

"Okay. Here we are. Now we get a big step. Step..."

"Sleep..."

"Yes, sleep. Step. No, BIG STEP! God, you're annoying when you're drunk, you know that?"
I felt a hand on my ankle, lifting up my foot. Once that one was in place, the same was repeated with the other foot. And then I was finally there.

"Just let him go."
The sheets rushed up to my face and I landed headfirst, letting out a cheer.

"Yippeeeeee..."

"Christ, he's wasted," Scott said, laughing. "He'll regret this in the morning."

"And if he doesn't, I'll make sure he does anyway," Michael's voice spoke, but there was a hint of a smile in there. "I'll take it from here. Thank you, Scott."

"You're welcome, boss. Good luck."

"Yeah, thanks."
One of my legs was lifted up a bit and then crossed behind the other. Then there was a quick twist and I rolled onto my back, letting the room swim slowly into view. When Michael's face appeared in that view, I lifted a hand, pointing at it with my finger. To me it looked like a finger. Well, several.

"Ey, I know you..."
He shook his head and smiled down on me.

"Cute. Now go to sleep."

"Okidoki. I love you, you know," I lisped, grinning up at him stupidly.

"Yes, I know," he whispered back. "I know."

**********

Michael woke me later that evening, when he turned in for the night. He nudged me several times, each time a little harder.

"I'd like a bit of space here, Mr. Luxurious Sleeper. Scoot over," he whispered.
I groaned softly, rolled onto my back and covered my eyes with an arm.

"How's your head?"
He softly snickered when all I did was grunt and I rolled back as soon as he pulled the covers over himself, my head landing right next to his.

"Hurts," I managed.

So I felt sorry for myself, alright? Sue me. My head throbbed like crazy, and my mouth was as dry as the Nevada Desert; all I wanted was a little bit of compassion, and it didn't matter who it might come from. So I scooted down a bit, and then closer, pressing my face against his cool chest, my nose right underneath his throat.

"Do you want some aspirin?" he asked softly.

"No," I sighed, rubbing the tip of my nose against his skin because it itched. "Just don't talk too loud."
His chest began to shake when he softly laughed and I groaned.

"Silly idiot," he whispered. "Why do you always make it so hard, huh?"
He pulled his arm free, laid it around me and pressed his lips to my forehead. He could be sweet, when he wanted to be.

"Don't you wanna watch TV?" I asked, after a few minutes.
By now, my eyes got used to the soft light coming from the lamps on the nightstands.

"It's fine," he replied.
I coughed a few times, but my throat was so dry that I eventually rose up a little, and rolled to the side of the bed. The taste in my mouth wasn't something to write home about, either, so I figured I'd try a quick trip to the bathroom, to brush my teeth and to drink a few gallons of cold, ice cold water.

"Where are you going?" Michael asked, as I slowly sat up. I closed my eyes, and sat on the edge, trying to gather the courage to get up and take the short walk.

"Bathroom."
At the same time as I said it, I pulled the covers back, and as I slowly stood up, I realized that I wasn't wearing anything.

I hadn't even noticed that before but it felt good as the colder air in the room came into contact with my body and I looked down, locating the steps and carefully descended them, and then made my way to the bathroom.

I kept the lights turned off, fumbling in the dark for my toothbrush, the toothpaste, and the cold water tap. Some of the said items clattered down into the sink, and I let out a curse. It took all of ten seconds for Michael to appear in there, switching on the damn lights.

"Off, off, off!" I groaned, covering my eyes.
I risked a peep, and caught a slight smile on his face as he reached into the sink, to fish out the stuff I'd dropped. He squirted toothpaste on the brush, handing it to me, and turned on the tap. Then he switched the lights back off, and disappeared.
"Thank you," I mumbled after him, grateful for the sudden darkness.
I brushed my teeth, savoring the sharp taste in my mouth, which thankfully seemed to get the saliva production going again, and drank until the initial thirst was quenched.

When I got back in the bedroom, Michael was lying on his side, keeping his eyes on me all the way as I crawled into bed.

"Feel better?"

"Much."
That was a lie and he knew it, and he softly snickered.

"Idiot."
He pulled up the covers around me as I scooted back into my original position, and then pulled my head on his chest. I didn't even remotely feel the strength to not cooperate.

"Mmm, the smell is a lot better now, though," he said, causing me to look up, which hurt, and send him a vile glare.

"How much did you have, anyway," he asked, smiling.

I shrugged. "No idea, don't remember."

"You seemed fine, until you got up," he said, sliding his long fingers in my hair.
He had that warm look in his eyes again and I put my head back on his chest. I didn't want to see it.

"Ah...always happens," I replied, closing my eyes. "Sitting down I'm fine, but when I get up; bye bye Jason."

"Yes, I noticed. You don't remember anything?"

"Nuhuh," I replied.

"Pity," he said softly.
I digested the word, and frowned.

"Why...did I say or do something I should know about?"

"Nah...but you can't sing for shit."
I groaned, and his chest shook softly.

"You have quite the John Denver repertoire."
Oh crap... I hadn't, had I? I buried my face in his throat.

"Oh no..."

"Oh yes. Scott thought it was hilarious, especially when you tried to knock me on my head, saying "ding ding' or something."
Okay, that was funny enough, and I grinned to myself.

"Did I make a complete fool of myself or...?" I asked.
When he remained silent for a while, I pushed myself up on my elbow, cocking an eyebrow at him.

He smiled gently and shook his head, letting his hand go from my hair to my neck. That warmness was still in his eyes, and I looked at his mouth and then up again. His head came a little closer and then halted, as if he waited for me to pull back. Then he closed the distance.

He softly licked my lips, and I opened up for him a little, allowing it inside. It was the tiniest of kisses but nice. Just...nice. Slow. Warm. Loving. Confusing.
I frowned when he pulled back; I half expected him to go for it, since I was willing. My head still hurt like crazy but I wouldn't deny him if he'd want me right now.
A corner of his mouth went up a little.

"What...?" he whispered.
I frowned, confused.

"N..nothing," I said, laying down on my side.
I threw him several glances and then turned onto my side.

"G'night."
He switched the light off at his side.

"Good night, Jason."