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iluvroadrunner6) wrote2025-03-08 09:42 am
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2025-03-08 09:42 amget your words out { 2025 } yahtzee tracking
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iluvroadrunner6) wrote2025-03-08 09:42 am
baby i'm only here for fun | murder train | 600
“You’re still here?”
Mason glances up at her with a grin. He knows the cue she gave him to leave when she left to go file her paperwork. His choosing to ignore it should be expected, but apparently Jo isn’t here to play today.
“I thought we could go for a nightcap.”
Jo arches an eyebrow before shaking her head. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Because I know you, and a nightcap is never a nightcap. It also becomes more nightcaps, and then dancing and then me waking up in the park at sunrise, unsure of how I got there.”
Mason pauses before pointing back at her. “But you can’t say you didn’t have fun?”
“No, I can’t. Because I don’t remember most of it.” She rolls her eyes. “Not tonight, Mason.”
“C’mon, Jo. Just one drink. I swear I will make sure you make it home to your intended destination.”
Jo holds his gaze for a moment, then sighs heavily. “One drink?”
“Just one.”
“No dancing?”
“Only if the sober mood strikes us.” He grins at her.
“You also buy dinner.”
“Done. I know a great place right around the corner from here.”
She pushes up to her feet and takes his arm. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
“I make no promises in either direction.”
Mason wakes up with an uncomfortable taste in his mouth and a crick in his back, rubbing his eyes to make the pain of the light go away. With each blink, things seem to come blearily into focus, and he realizes that he’s sprawled on the couch in his hotel room.
He doesn’t remember how he got there.
His head whirls around the room, and eventually his eyes land on the bed, where Jo’s sprawled widthwise across it, still in her suit, and out cold. Relief surges through him. He at least held up the end of the bargain, where she doesn’t wind up in the park again. The problem is, he’s not sure how.
There’s a knock at the bedroom door and Jo jerks awake, hand going to her waist where he imagines her gun usually is, before she lets out a whimper of pain at the sudden light and buries her face in the comforter. “What? Where?”
“My hotel room.” Then to the door he says: “Come in!”
Virgil pushes the door open and offers them both an amused smirk. “You two look like hell. I brought you some recovery aids.”
“Bless you.” He reaches for the water first, and Jo inches closer to the bed so she can grab the cup of coffee.
“Virgil, how?” She hasn’t quite recovered enough for articulate sentences, but he answers all the same.
“Mason called me, said that if he hadn’t returned to our suite in two hours that you’d gotten carried away. He asked me to come retrieve you and ensure you made it back to the hotel safe.”
As he talks, the conversation bubbles up in his mind and he takes a few more sips of the water before nodding. “I owe you a raise.”
“That you do. But you said it would be worth it for the detective to not wake up with sticks in her hair.”
“You are a gentleman and a scholar.” Jo sips her coffee, her shoulders slowly relaxing. “Thank you.”
Virgil steps back out again to order them breakfast, and Mason glances over to her. “See? This wasn’t so bad.”
Jo grumbles. “Next time, we have lunch. There are no nightcaps at lunch.”
Mason laughs, before wincing as his hangover objects. “Deal.”