☠ 062

[molotov]

Who: Molotov and you, maybe
What: Fireside sitting in the lobby, thinking, talking, drinking
When: The middle of the damn night!
Where: Lobby
Rating: Ehhh probably like PG-13 at most

The lobby never really got silent, not with the noctural residents and everyone who seemed to come and go at all hours, but it did get quiet if you waited up late enough, and Molotov needed a little bit of quiet.

Sure, she could have stayed up in her room, could have sat in bed next to Brock as he slept, even though she couldn't sleep herself. But something about it made her want to leave, want to just be in front of the beautiful, if slightly "majestic generic", fireplace down in the lobby.

So she'd put on some pajamas and wandered downstairs, taking a seat on the sofa closest the fire. The castle provided a blanket to cover her legs with, and a mug of red wine hot chocolate that never seemed to need refilling, and Molotov couldn't help but think it was the nicest thing the castle had done in a while.

And there she sat, alone and silent, gazing into the flames as the lobby traffic died out more and more.

Until you came along.

Comments

[gottaknockhard]

Somehow after spending too much time at the mansion and living with a fake family, Spike just hasn't been getting the restful sleep that he's used to. Since it also seems that he isn't the type to learn from his lessons, he veers over to the fireplace on his way to the kitchen, only realizing who left it burning when he gets closer.

Well, whatever. Molotov might not be his favorite person, but he's obligated to acknowledge her from time to time. He barely glances at her outfit when he comes up behind her, leaning on the back of the sofa before she has a chance to chase him off.

"Did you have a fight?"

[molotov]

Well, there's hardly as much danger as usual this time, either. There's no magic kissing happening, and they both seem to be in fine enough moods. And besides, Molotov has come to terms lately with a lot things, most importantly that the longest-lasting residents needed to probably be getting along better. And, for better or worse, than included both herself and Spike.

"No," she says, looking over her shoulder at him, rumpled and silly looking as ever. "Just... could not sleep. You? Too much sleep?"

[gottaknockhard]

"Maybe." He grins, because any insult that doesn't involve Julia in some way are pretty easy for him to take. And he does sleep a lot. "You always have to wake up eventually."

At her lack of immediate protest, he steps around the side of the couch, sitting on the far end without so much as an invitation. Who knows why. Could be that the 'coward' comments he suffered during the mistletoe incident made him want to prove himself. Or he just likes couches. Sometimes it's the simpler explanation with him.

[molotov]

Molotov just watches him without any indication of her feelings, and the castle grants Spike his own mug of cocoa. You know, just in case he's thirsty.

She snorts, and glances down at her hands. "When is eventually, though?" she asks, with a sort of sad humor to her voice. "We have been dreaming here for how many years, Spike? When do we wake up and it all goes to hell again?"

[gottaknockhard]

Spike is in the middle of raising an eyebrow at the cocoa when she throws him off guard with that question. It's not that he was trying to get on her nerves, but he wasn't expecting an insightful reply. Is he actually dreaming? It's a little spooky how she asks the same questions that usually run through his mind at this time of night.

"Any day now." He means it to sound like a joke, but it's too dark for his usual humor. "We're about due, aren't we?"

[molotov]

Resting her head against the back of the sofa, Molotov closes her eye and lets out a little chuckle. "We are fucked, aren't we, Spike?" she says. She might be a little buzzed on this bottomless cocoa. "Paradisa is probably as good as it gets for either of us, or for me at least, and all for the small, small price of monsters and living in some kind of nightmare fairytale."

She goes quiet again, blinking at the ceiling, her face soft without all of its usual makeup. "This goddamn place."

[gottaknockhard]

There's a point where he regrets interrupting her at all. Briefly, he wonders if Brock told her what he said to him, about his death. He'd like to dismiss the idea as soon as it comes to him, but it stays with him as she goes on.

"Probably." Nobody ever said he was good at cheering someone up. "Or it could just be the beginning."

[molotov]

Brock actually hadn't said a word about it, but Molotov has heard enough stories over the years to know that most people seem to return to bad things rather than good. At the very least, she knows there's shit with Julia at home for Spike, and that seemed to be sucky either way.

"The beginning of what?" she asks, rolling her head to gaze at him, eyes bleary with alcohol.

[gottaknockhard]

He shrugs, as if that counts as an explanation, but follows it with turning towards her. Either he's envious that she's somewhat obviously smashed, or he's marveling at the fact that she's having a real conversation with him. Although it's more possible that those go hand in hand.

"Who the hell knows?"

[molotov]

He should be envious, Molotov feels pretty excellent right now. Red wine hot chocolate is maybe the best, and she doesn't know why she didn't think to ever drink it before.

Molotov is quiet for a moment, then starts to laugh, her eye closing tightly again. When she recovers, she just smiles at him, hair falling across her face. "You are so stupid," she says, with something close to affection.

[gottaknockhard]

He'd have an easier time not faking that smile back if he had his taste for alcohol again, but he takes a swig from his mug just in case. Just because he can't, doesn't mean he shouldn't see it as an opportunity though. What are odds that he'll catch her in this good of a mood again?

"Makes you wonder why you're asking me."

[molotov]

Molotov shrugs, keeping hold of her mug with one hand as she uses the other to prop her head up, her elbow on the back of the couch. His chances of finding her this happy again are very low, considering.

"You are the only one here, aren't you?"

[gottaknockhard]

She has a point. He is the only option, even when she's dressed like that. That could explain why she's willing to substitute anyone in place of being alone.

"Surprisingly." Not even throwing in a mocking tone. If she wants to talk, they can talk. "I'm sure everyone else would put a more positive spin on it."

[molotov]

Probably everyone is used to Molotov Cocktease being practically naked all the time at this point. So it's not really saying anything to point out her state of dress. In fact, this is conservative for her.

"Everyone else is even more stupid," she tells him, matter-of-factly. "I do not think the castle is the big evil that most people do, but I do not think there is much of a 'positive spin' for it, either."

[gottaknockhard]

It's a sad world when a woman gets overlooked for wearing another boring skimpy outfit. Not that Spike has ever been one to stare, but he's man enough to admit to her redeeming qualities. At least when she's cutting him a break.

His smile turns more genuine at her reply. "I'll take that as a compliment."

[molotov]

I mean, she could start wearing a nun's habit? Surely she'd turn some heads that way! No, it's also just that everyone also already knows she's bitchy, so why bother? No matter how hot a woman is, someone somewhere is tired of her horrible shit.

There's another chuckle and a smile, and she takes a drink from her mug. "You weren't always so bad," she says. "We used to like each other."

[gottaknockhard]

Some people do have a thing for nuns. Let Brock deal with the questions.

Now he's apparently winning her over, because that definitely sounded like a compliment. He'd bring up how it wasn't his fault that she had to get friendly with someone who wants him dead, but why spoil the moment?

"Did we?" For the first week or two? It's hard to remember that far back.

[molotov]

Spike's personal drama is not any of Molotov's business! He should never have held that against her, she still strongly contends that. And it's not like she hangs out with Vicious anymore anyway -- she hasn't since his original stay in Paradisa.

"Ages ago. Before Brock built the cabin."

[gottaknockhard]

That certainly helps her cause; he figures he would have found out by now if they were still getting together. He's too possessive of his friends.

"The cabin might have done it then." Spike can remember a few things that happened in it that he'd rather not, so it's possible.

[molotov]

Vicious was different when he came back, not the man she'd liked so much as a sparring partner. He couldn't hold her interest any more, and that left Spike with nothing to even consider.

Molotov snorts -- it's not like she'd enjoyed any of that herself, you know. In fact, it was probably even worse for her than it had been for Spike. "You and I both know that wasn't it," she says, closing her eye and settling into the sofa, though her body still faces him. "We were already broken apart before that."

She might be a little drunk to have a proper grip on terminology. Molotov, sweetie, you mean 'grown apart'.

[gottaknockhard]

Spike has noticed that he hasn't tried to frame him for murdering his associates since he got back. It's enough to make a guy feel neglected; but that's another issue to deal with.

"I was stealing a lot of your husband's time." Joking. Like that was the source of the whole thing. "I should have let you know that there was nothing going on."

[molotov]

"It was hard to tell, what with you "sleeping in his cabin" and all that," she smirks, glancing at him. "You just don't know what he is like at home. Living with all men, spending all his time with men, his best friend a big poncey queen. It can be enough to make a girl wonder sometimes."

With a small laugh, Molotov leans over to poke his leg. "And who am I to know what you like? Maybe you like all blondes."

[gottaknockhard]

Spike hasn't met a lot of Brock's other friends, and none from home that he can remember, so he had no idea if he was adding to a rumor. He's just sure enough in himself that he thinks he could put on a dress and not be confused for the other team.

All that he can laugh at, but even an innocent comment about blondes can change everything. Why do people keep saying that? "Yeah. It's a shame that couldn't work out."

[molotov]

Oh, come on, Spike. She was clearly not being vicious with that one, and besides, you make out with a redhead (who is hotter than your blonde anyway) on a semi-regular basis.

"Just wait until something happens to me." She gives a snort and smiles lazily. "He will be in your arms in no time."

[gottaknockhard]

"If only I'd known he felt the same way." His tone is so flat, but he's attempting to cover up the stupid way he tenses up whenever someone makes him think of Julia.

"Besides, I don't like to take bets on who's going first."