Lil and Jean-Paul

[x-diamondlil.livejournal.com]

Before this, Jean-Paul tends to the other half of the Hungover Duo when Lil comes knocking on his door.


There wasn't much that could hurt Diamond Lil but the scotch Manuel had provided the night before had packed quite a punch. The blonde woman all but dragged herself from his suite, hoping to make it to hers without falling over in the hallway but didn't realize she'd taken a wrong turn until she found herself standing in front of Jean-Paul's door. "Oh fuck," she grumbled after a long look down the hall. A couch to crash on was better than the rug. "Lemme in," Lil called, lifting a hand to knock on the door; the sound of it making her flinch.

Jean-Paul appeared at the door in short order, his hair still damp from a belated shower. He appeared somewhat confused at Lil's presence at first...then caught a whiff of her breath and wrinkled his nose. "Dieu...which bottle did you crawl out of?"

"Fucking scotch," she replied, pushing past him and into the common area of the suite where she promptly took up residence on the sofa. Sprawled on her back, Lil had one arm flung over her eyes and was nearly a foot to big to be laying comfortably but at least there was no Val climbing on her head this time around. Her clothes were askew, her hair unbrushed and there were still traces of last night's makeup on her unwashed face. "Just wanna sleep. And make the fucking pounding in my head stop."

"Why has every stray on the grounds decided that my room is the place to take up residence?" Jean-Paul looked at the miserable stretch of Amazon trying to bury herself in the sofa cushions, sighed, and went to go shut the blinds. "I take it that you and Manuel decided to go have some friendly drinks after all?" He headed for the freezer to get an icepack.

Lil let out a little whimper of discomfort as she shift on the cushions. "I hate him," came the pathetic answer. "I hate him and his scotch and this fucking headache. And I got lost. Wrong turn heading back to my room and ended up here. Too far to go back."

Jean-Paul sighed and handed over the icepack. "Here. A temporary measure, I know, but my stock of hangover cures is low at the moment. Nate might have left some aspirin..." A quick check, then the bottle of pills followed the ice pack. "And you know, I am tempted to interrogate you."

She groaned when she peeked an eye open to look at what he was offering. "Ice's no fucking help," Lil slurred as she took the bottle from him. "Can't feel the cold." Fingers fought with the cap, twisting and pulling before she finally gave up and shoved it blindly back at him. "Open."

Dryly, "Whoops." Jean-Paul plucked the bottle from her grip and was kind enough to return the open bottle with a glass of water. "Why is it," he teased, "that I cannot leave anyone here to their own devices? The kids? Fine. They're young, they're supposed to have poor judgment. This does not explain you or Nathan."

The blonde pantomimed a mouth moving with her hand after tossing back the pills and drowning them with the entire glass. "Blahblahblah. We're all young compared to you. 'Cause you're old. You gotta sleep mask or something? Or can you go put out the sun more?"

"Sorry, no. My iron grip over the forces of nature only extends so far. Wet washcloth over the eyes is as good as it's going to get in my humble inn. Or I could try smothering you with a pillow."

"If I pick the latter, you gotta 'splain to Maddy why I stopped emailing." Lil flopped back in the couch and covered her eyes with her arm once more. Anything to stop the burning in her brain. Quiet would be nice, too, but she doubted she'd get any of that in the near future.

"'Salutations petit con. I have smothered your wife at her behest. I suspect this missive will bounce off of the pudding which passes for your brain, but I thought you should know. Sincerely, Northstar.' I think I could manage." The promised washcloth dropped into Lil's hand a few moments later. "You have been e-mailing the boy, then?"

The blonde woman plopped the cloth over her eyes then turned inward to bury her face in the back of the couch while offering Jean-Paul a rather suggestive and unfriendly gesture with her hand. "Told to throw him a bone. Started going back and forth. Nothing new. Same old asshole but 'least he's talking to me. Now, can I have some damn quiet?"

Jean-Paul snorted quietly, but he'd gotten enough amusement out of her to pay for the couch space. He headed for the door. "I need to go grocery shopping. Try not to scare the rats while I'm gone, hm?"

Snorting, the giantess curled herself into a smaller ball so she could fit on the sofa. "They climb on my like Val did and I make no promises."