1964-01-20 - Sometimes Girls Can Tell
Summary: Drunk Jamie makes some bad decisions. Lynette comes to check on him. She finds him. Not alone. Rated R for some nudity.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
lynette madrox 


Madrox has been a bit of a day. Lots of running around, and time spent in Mutant Town tending to the damage, the wounded, and the broken families. Not that Jamie's a lot of help with the latter, but he can help nail up boards and make repairs. He's got a lot of hands to help, and with Lynette's latest revelation about her relationship with Victor, he's found himself with a need to get a distraction or two. From there.. well, there was some alcohol involved. He may or may not have hit up a club or two. Might have been somewhere near the college. But now he's home, the Impala's parked outside, and his door is actually still ajar, having not bothered to close it since getting home. Pretty out of character, really, for a guy generally very concerned about security.

*

Lynette had spent her day helping around Mutant Town herself. The odd, off looks she'd get when waving to Jamie, however, did cause the girl some alarm. Leaving him be, she finishes off her daily to-do, and makes her way to the apartment building. Eyeing it up and down, she glances at the Impala and offers her a soft pat on the trunk. "How y'doin', pretty girl?" She questions the object before scaling teh stairs to Jamie's place. Her hand moves to the handle, with key in hand, but then she notices that it's already open, and can see a sliver of light bleeding out into the corridor from inside.

Tensing, she takes a breath, or five, before opening the door swiftly and looking around the building, hands up and mind set to use her abilities, if need be, depending on what she sees.

*

And the first thing Lynette will notice when she opens to the door is a pair of pants on the floor. And they're definitely not Jamie's, owing to the slim cut and the distinctly feminine style. And next, there's giggling coming from the bedroom, where the light is coming from. As she makes her way inside, she might notice another few articles of clothing.. shoes, shirts, underwear. It's pretty obvious what has been going on here tonight. The smell of liquor permeates the atmosphere, and to her keen senses, and the fact that she works in a bar Lynette might even realize that it's primarily gin; the distinct scent of juniper. The door creaks as she pushes it open, and a moment later, once she's inside, there appears a figure in the doorway of the bedroom. A woman. Girl, might be a better descriptor. A petite blonde, naked from the waist up, with just a sheet wrapped around her midsection, and very unsteady on her feet. She sees Lynette, and lets out an even louder giggle. "Who the hell are you?" She asks, but it's laughter, more than question. "Jimmy?" She looks over her shoulder into the room, and then turns back to face Lynette. "Hi! He's.. uh.. sleeping. Who are you?" All smiles, despite the awkward situation. There's some rustling in the bedroom, but no sound from Madrox yet.

*

The farther into the home she goes, the more things make sense. She takes a breath and feels her nostrils burn, her hand clamping over her mouth as that 'smell' of pine almost drives her acute senses off the deep end. She doesn't open the door so much as simply pass it, heading in another direction and out of the way. The greeting from the blonde causes her eyes to grow before she looks away, allowing her some modesty. "Jus' a friend." She explains softly. "Checkin' up on, uh…Jimmy?" Who the hell called him Jimmy? She offers an apologetic smile before stepping back, hands up and tucking away the key. "'nyway, I ain't gonna d'sturb y'. I jus' c'm callin' lat'r on." Turning, she starts to head back toward the door, making sure not to trample over any articles of clothing with her slush soaked boots.

*

"Friend, huh?" The blonde says with a smirk at the woman, eyeing her over. "I know what kind of friend comes calling at this time of night, girl," she says in a sing-song kind of voice. Not anger, or jealousy, but amusement more than anything. And then a moment later, Jamie's walking up to the bedroom door from behind the girl. "What the fu-" he starts, touching the girl on the waist as he approaches. Even in those few words, his speech is slurred, and it's obvious how much alcohol he's consumed. "Lyn." He blinks, and rubs his eyes. He's naked too, without the benefit of the sheet to provide any kind of modesty. "I- what are-" He blinks again, and then looks at the blonde, who really does seem to be very amused by this whole situation. "Cheryl, can you, uh, give me a minute?" She giggles, and then gives Lynette a little wave before ducking back into the bedroom, and Jamie steps forward further. "Uh, hey. What are you doin' here, darlin'?"

*

"Yes. Friend." She gives a wiggle of the key to prove she had a way of getting in, and not just skirt calling. The assumption of it, however, causes the girl's brows to furrow deeply. Every giggle seems to flare a bit more anger in the baby mambo. When Jamie speaks, she glances his way and then back to the newly named 'Cheryl'. "I was jus' comin' t'check in on y'. Y'didn' look twice at me t'day so…I was worried." Looking toward the bathroom, she then takes another step back. "Y'got c'mp'ny, dough. So, I c'n talk wit y'lat'r. Y'door 's open, dough. Lock it next time?" The request sounds more heavy with concern, worry, than annoyance.

*

Jamie stumbles forward, almost tripping over a pair of pants. There's more giggling from inside his room. "Oh, well, uh. I'm fine?" As no doubt, Lyn can clearly see, in all his glory. "Was.. workin', darlin'. Sorry I didn't wander over to chat you up. Didn't think it was gonna be a big deal.." He moves forward a bit more, leaning over to pick up a shirt that had been deposited on the floor to at least cover his manly parts, and actually falls over in the process, stopping himself from hitting the floor only by the skin of his teeth. It's not often that Jamie goes out of his way to get this intoxicated, but.. well, there he is. "Where's your fella tonight? Big guy, claws, lots 'o teeth?" It's not that he says it in a snide way, but there's something about the question that doesn't sound overly friendly, between slurred words and the off-the-cuff drunken attitude.

*

Lynette glances back toward his room. More that one, Madrox was in rare form tonight. Her hands move out to help catch him should he fall. He catches himself, but her hands are still out, offering support. "Well, if y'doin' 'lright, I leave y'be, den." She offers, not harshly, but more so ernestly. He was busy, clearly, and she didn't want to mess that up for him. The question about Creed has her stalling. "He's at de hotel room. Told'm I'd be droppin' by t'check on y'."

*

"Better get back to 'im, then," Jamie says, giving Lynette a bit of an awkward smirk. "Surely don't want him gettin' the wrong idea, right?" He straightens himself up, and then looks like he's about to speak, but doesn't. The shirt held in front of him, he just stands there a moment, eyes half-shutting for a moment before he re-opens them. "Sorry. I've.. had a LOT to drink." Which he follows with a very light burp, in fact. "I'm doin' fine. Just, uh.. you know, needed a night. Said I was happy for ya, and I meant it, darlin'. Just.. deal with things my own way, you know?" As in, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone? Raven always said "Don't catch feelings", and he always prided himself on never breaking that rule, but apparently that wasn't the case this time, even if he'd never admit it sober. "I'll come by.. in the morning," Late afternoon, maybe. "I'll be doin' better by then," he says.

*

Sometimes, girls can tell. Sometimes, boys are like open books, written in all caps and the ink has been dyed red. Yet, all she can do is frown. Her face scrunches a bit at the pass of gin soaked belch breath, and after a shake, she nods, her curls bobbing gently. The girl had returned to normal by this point; big black eyes and mocha skin without a spot of scale to be had. "Sure." She concludes, glancing toward his bedroom and then turning to place her hand on the door-knob. "Lock y'door. S'dangerous out dere." She warns, moving to step out and make sure the door was shut, securely, behind herself.

*

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