xp_logs | Domino, Tuesday afternoon

Where precisely did Domino go after her meeting with Pete in Boston?

Her brain was functioning just sluggishly enough to take in the details of her surroundings when she woke up.

Hotel room: not hers.

Shaggy-haired, snoring, very decidedly male lump in the bed beside her: completely naked complete stranger.

Domino closed her eyes, biting back a groan. That gorgeous red-haired waitress at the second to last bar - or maybe it had been the third to last bar, she couldn't quite remember - would be so disappointed in her. After all those solemn mutual promises about how they were both swearing off men, since they either turned out to be bastards or decided to join groups of psychotic costume aficionados bent on world domination. Julie had been a little perplexed at that part, but had just poured her more tequila and told her that all men were scum and she really didn't need to get into the details.

Now, where the hell did I pick you up? Domino thought, gazing for a long moment at her still-slumbering bedmate. There had been a club, hadn't there? After Julie's bar... but no, she'd gone home with Julie. Hadn't she?

What the hell day was it?

Grumbling under her breath, Domino slipped out of bed, tottering a little as she got to her feet. Her mouth tasted like something had died in it, and the less said about her head, the better. She gave the hotel room an assessing look, noticing the liquor bottles and the general mess. Looks like we had quite the party.

Her jacket was flung over one of the chairs, and Domino made her very careful way over there, relieved to find both her papers and her PDA still in the inside pocket. She pulled out the latter with the specific intention of checking the date.

Tuesday? Shit.

Grimacing, she went over to the window and peered out through the gauzy curtains. Tuesday. And apparently, she'd managed to make it back to New York at some point.

She suspected she ought to take that as a sign. Setting the PDA back down, she went into the bathroom, turned the shower on as cold as it would go, and proceeded to wake herself up in the time-honored fashion. The ice-cold water elicited a yelp that was hopefully swallowed by the noise of the shower. Running very low on pride lately, after alll... She couldn't honestly say that she felt a whole lot better when she staggered back out, but at least she was awake.

She looked, Domino noticed as she caught a glance of herself in the mirror on the way by, moderately appalling. Well, babe, that's what happens when you go on a three-night bender. Three nights, two and a half days or thereabouts, by the look of the light out there. Domino bit her lip, trying to think. She remembered the club she'd wound up in back in Boston, after leaving... afterwards. There had been far, far too much tequila and a couple of guys whose names she hadn't caught. And their Mercedes. She definitely remembered their Mercedes. Particularly the back seat of their Mercedes, which had actually been nicely roomy. Maybe that had been how she'd gotten back to New York?

In any case, that had been Saturday night. Sunday had been the bar with all the neon, and Julie... and last night was What's-His-Name here. Hah. So that was the last few days accounted for. More or less.

More or less. You idiot.

Nate would so be growling at her.

He'd be right, too.

Domino shook her head and set about retrieving her clothes, not bothering to be quiet about it. By the time she had and had started to get dressed, What's-His-Name was stirring, groaning something about vodka being evil and giving her a disapproving look.

"You're leaving?" he asked.

Older than she'd thought, under that shaggy hair. Domino gave him a bright, utterly false smile. "Places to go, people to see," she told him. She spotted a glint of silver on the nighttable and came over to retrieve the protective charm Amanda had given her. Can't leave that...

He made a grab for her that she dodged, hangover-blurred reflexes or not. "Still early," he protested. "Come back to bed."

"Sorry," she said without bothering to put much in the way of regret into the apology. She slipped the charm over her head and went back to get her jacket. "It's been fun, uhh..."

"Ben," was the wry reply.

"Ben. Right." Domino gave him a more rueful smile and a little wave as she headed out the door and, after a moment's scrutiny of her surroundings, down the hall to where she figured the elevators would be.

Fresh air, she told herself as she stepped into the elevator, and a meal of the non-liquid variety. Then she needed to make a few phone calls, find out what else she could... well, find out.

The elevator doors opened onto the lobby, which was simply unacceptably bright. Really. Domino sighed and put on her sunglasses.

Tomorrow morning she'd head to the school. Once she had a little more to say than 'Hi, Nate, Pete's becoming the White King and by the way, I'm swearing off men!'