Log: Marie/Garrison

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Early this morning, Marie collects a very drunk Garrison from the Secret Service, and puts him to bed while they talk.



The black sedan pulled up, just as Marie's cellphone went off. It listed as Garrison's number, but the voice on the other end was definitely not his. Mind you, she could hear singing past the man talking, someone boisterous and offkey, and absolutely a 54-40 song. Obviously, Garrison was very drunk. A man in a black suit got out from behind the wheel and opened up the back door, where the Canadian was trying to teach two other slightly inebriated agents the words to 'Ocean Pearl'. He helped Kane from the car, and walked up up to the front doors, where Marie was waiting.

"I think our boy has had a little too much."

"Ah think he had a little much a couple hours ago," she said, arching an eyebrow. "Do Ah need to start checking you for new tattoos?" Marie asked Garrison as she slipped her hand around his waist and nodded her thanks to the agent. "And lordy, you need to shower. You smell like someone poured the bar on ya," she added, wrinkling her nose.

"I said too, but they wouldn't. I offered to pay." Garrison said, with that bizarre hyper-articulated voice that showed most of his brain power was being spent just getting the words out. He waved at the car as it left, and threw an arm over Marie's shoulders. "I think I might have had a drink or two too many."

"Really?" Marie said, rolling her eyes and guiding the stumbling Canadian towards the door to the mansion. "What makes you say that?" After Kane almost managed to trip them both going up the stairs, Marie pushed off and began floating towards Garrison's suite. "You so owe me," she muttered, though there was a note of relief in her voice as well. Her friend hadn't been the same since the negotiation in Russia had gone wrong and she was glad to see him acting like his old self again.

"That's true, I do. It's late. We should be quiet." Garrison made a shushing noise. "Who's making all that noise? Wait, I'm making all that noise! Shut up, me! Shush!" He said, head lolling. While they had shared plenty of evenings out together, it was the first time she'd seen him this drunk since the night after his mother's funeral, over a year before.

Marie was glad that the hall was relatively empty, but she wasn't sure how much longer it would last at the rate things were going. "If you don't at least hold it together until we make it to your room, Ah might just have to take you in my arms. And then when someone inevitably sees me carry you across the threshold, we'll have just given a nice bit of fodder to the rumor mill."

"Ha! Like they don't think that we're already sleeping together." He said, leaning over to nuzzle the side of her hair as they walked down the hall. "I always tell them that we never actually sleep." He giggled at his own joke as they reached his room, and pushed open the door.

"Ah really shouldn't be surprised," said Marie, a mortified expression on her face. Releasing her hold on Garrison, she watched in satisfaction as he landed heavily on his feet, not able to keep his hold on her due to his inebriation. "You need some coffee. Got anything decent?" she asked as she took a step towards his kitchen.

"Tim Hortons on the counter." He awkwardly kicked off his shoes and slumped into a chair. His head was spinning, and he felt nausous, but for the first time in weeks, he could at least shake the feeling of failure from his head. That beating his self-confidence and belief had taken only now starting to look like it could heal. "No coffee. I'll throw up if I drink anything else."

Still disappearing into the kitchen, she put a pot on anyways (more for her than him) and dampened a paper towel. "No throwing up. Ah draw the line somewhere," Marie said as she left the kitchen, though they both knew she wouldn't leave him alone. Taking his arm, she carefully escorted him to sit on the couch. Wiping his face with the cool cloth, she shook her head. "How much did you have? Or do Ah even want to know?"

"I sort of lost count after twenty. The agents kept buying rounds." Garrison grabbed her forearm, leaning in. "Did you know that they have one guy on the detail that his only job in an emergency situation is to get in front of the bullet? Can you imagine that? He gets paid to take a bullet. They even practice it, over and over again so he doesn't accidentially not get shot in that situation. That's fucked up."

"Sounds like a good job for someone that's bulletproof," she said with a shrug. As Garrison's breath reached her nose, Marie turned her head and coughed. "Alright, that's it." Helping him back up, she all but dragged him into the bathroom. "We can chat about the dangerous jobs that people have protecting the president and his family later. Right now, you're gonna brush your teeth before Ah end up shooting you."

"You're not armed. I checked. Don't need to be armed. Just kiss the boys and make them... something." Garrison muttered as she all but stuck the toothbrush in his mouth. He made a desulatory effort, at least cleaning some of the alcohol reek out, as she puttered in his room. He drank down a glass of water, making a face as he did so, and after determining that it wasn't coming back up, stumbled out into the room itself. He sat down on the bed with a slumping drop, head lolling a little. "Know what I figured out?"

Kiss the boys and make them cry...or die in my case. Marie pushed the thought away, reminding herself that there was more alcohol than blood flowing through his veins at this point. "So what grand revelation did you have courtesy of the liquor gods?" she asked, sitting next to him.

"That I suck. A lot." He slowly drifted sideways, until he was slumped against her, mouth half flattened by her shoulder as he talked. "All this time, I've been pissing and moaning about what happened to me, and how it doesn't seem to matter enough. It doesn't seem to mean enough." He closed his eyes. "How did I get that stupid and that selfish that quickly, eh?"

"Give yourself a break Gar," Marie said soothingly, gloved fingers automatically going to smooth his hair. "You've had a rough time of things and you're still new to all this." It didn't matter that the Canadian and the Southerner were the same age, it was life experiences that mattered for this sort of thing. "You don't suck," she added, just to be clear.

"Yeah, I really do. Because in the middle of all that, I also haven't been there for anyone else either." He slipped his arms around her waist, now turned so that she was against him. "I'm sorry, Marie. I didn't mean to."

Marie tried to shrug off his concern, smiling at him. "Ah'm fine," she said. "We all have times when we need someone to lean on and you've just been the one needing to lean right now. Ah'm always glad to be there for you, y'know?" She leaned her head against him before continuing. "'sides, if Ah'd really needed someone, Ah know you would've stepped up."

"Stumbled up. Maybe thrown up on your shoes. But yeah, I'll always be here." Garrison suddenly drifted back, and the Marie ended up getting pulled down to the covers by his embrace. Kane's muffled voice came from where he'd faceplanted into the quilt and then gotten his head buried under her hair. "Except now I don't know where here is."

"Don't even think about hurting my shoes," Marie managed to get out as she suddenly found herself laying on the bed. Rolling over, her hair pulled off of Garrison's face and she smiled at him again. "Here is wherever either of us happen to be at the time...and you're about to pass out on me, aren't you?"

"Would I do that?" Kane murmered. He pulled her closer, buring his face into her hair, and pressing a kiss against the side of her head. "His job description is to get in front of the bullet. How about that, eh?" Garrison's eyes slid shut, one hand cupping her lower back, and the other locked, fingers intertwined with hers.

Marie tensed slightly at the kiss, despite the relative safety her hair was providing against actual contact. "The kinds of jobs some people take," she joked weakly. "You'd think they have a deathwish or something."

All that answered her was a soft snore in her ear, and the slight tightening of the embrace on her. Kane's body had finally relaxed a little, all but his grip, which clung tightly.

"I knew it," Marie said softly, feeling him relax despite the tightening of the arms wrapped around her. He'd probably have a horrible headache the next morning, which he would rightly deserve, but for now he finally seemed to have found some peace. "Sweet dreams," she whispered, closing her own eyes.