Murdoc and 2-D are sitting on the balcony, quietly watching the sunset, after another long hard day. The two men, each laid out on a deck chair. Murdoc soaks in the atmosphere, content at the quiet sounds of the afternoon. He slides himself a little way down the deck chair and closes his eyes. 2-D looks over at the old man and mimics him a moment.
"I'm gettin' firsty Muds. Wanna drink?" the young man asks, his voice breaking the quiet of the afternoon. Murdoc grimaces clenching his teeth, snapping his eyes open and turning them in the direction of the keyboardist, annoyed at the sound of his voice, but settles quickly in favour of a drink.
"Yeahhh." Murdoc drawls, a smile creeping up the corners of his mouth. He closes his eyes and imagines a glass of golden liquid, settled neatly in his hand. A warm sensation, growing up the length of his body, stopping at his stomach. He licks his lips and sighs. "Gemme summink with alcohol in it." the bassist continues, clasping his hands behind his head and leaning even further back in the chair. "An' make it snappy!" he adds sharply. He leans forwards a moment and shoots the young man an evil look, for emphasis, then closes his eyes and settles back again.
2-D startles a moment, like a deer at the sound of a gunshot. Then gets up and moving steadily past the old man, who is now humming quietly to himself, and steps into the kitchen. A moment later, Muds quiet mood, is disturbed by the sounds of 2-D jostling things about, opening cupboard doors and the clinking sounds of glasses. Muds rolls his eyes and tries to settle back again, but is shocked again, by the sound of a cupboard door being slammed. The bassist sits up and raises his shoulders to his ears, dropping his chin and grinding his teeth. His talons, gripping the sides of the chair tightly. 'Why does everythin' have to be so hard....?' he murmurs and digs in his nails.
2-D returns a moment later, a bottle of Scotch under one arm and holding two glasses in his hands. One of the glasses is filled with lemon squash. Murdoc eyes it suspiciously, then looks the young man up and down incredulously. 2-D sits the glasses down on the table and opens the Scotch. Murdoc points to the suspicious glass, with a long talon and half laughing remarks.
"What the fuck is that?" 2-D looks round to him and hands him his Scotch. Muds takes it, trying hard not to burst out laughing. He knows what it is, but just has to hear 2-D say it. Somehow, he feels, it's so much funnier. 2-D stand up straight and rolls his shoulders. He knows that no matter what he does, Muds will always find a way of needling him. It seemed a fact of life, since the two first met. He just wishes, there could be one day, just one, that Muds and he could be together and he doesn't end up looking dumb. 2-D slowly takes the drink in his hand and moves over to his chair.
"Lemonade." he answers quietly. "Why?" he sits down and gets comfortable. Trying not to look at the grinning old man next to him. For a moment a look of indignation crosses Muds face, then suddenly he bursts out laughing, unable to stop himself anymore. He holds his stomach with his free hand and flops back in the chair, the Scotch in his glass, spilling a little over the sides onto the floor. Muds quickly puts his hand over the rim to stop himself loosing any more of his drink. His laugh breaking down to a strange nasally snicker. 2-D drops his glass to his lap, bowing his head and studying the rim of the glass. He goes to say something, annoyed at Murdoc for laughing at him like that, but decides to remain silent a moment and give Muds a chance to calm down.
"I hope none of that's meant for me. Otherwise, I'd haffta consider gettin' you committed!" Murdoc finally manages to get out, half snarling, half giggling. 2-D takes a small cleansing breath, looking up at the old man finally.
"No. It's for me. I wanted a lemonade. Wots wrong wif that and whys it so funny?" he replies, with a hint of sadness in his voice. He looks back down to the bubbles rising slowly in his drink, the fading orange light shining off them and is lost for a moment in how pretty they look.
"Nuthin', nuthin'." Murdoc, responds, his raspy voice snapping 2-D back from his thoughts. "Just thought you'd want a mans drink, thats all. Buuut, if ya wanna be a child...." Murdoc continues, placing his glass to his lips to take a sip. 2-D snaps his head round and narrows his black hole eyes.
"I'm not a child!!" 2-D snaps. Murdoc is shocked a little and nearly spills his drink. "I drink too!" the young man squeaks, realizing he may of just made Murdoc mad. But the bassist just smiles and eyes him carefully a moment, running his long tongue over his shark like teeth and smacking his lips together. He lowers his eyes, his fringe nearly masking the glassy look they have now, thinking deviously.
"Uh huh. Not as much as me though." the old man replies, his voice low and mocking. Then he downs the Scotch in one gulp. Giving a satisfied sigh, he tilts his head towards the youth and smiles evilly at him from one side of his mouth, eyes narrowed, almost as if daring the young man to prove him wrong. He reaches for the bottle and pours himself another drink, looking quickly with his eyes in the young mans direction, waiting for any sign, that the young man will pick up his challenge. 2-D robotically tips the lemonade out onto the floor and holds out his glass. Murdoc pleased, pours him a drink, happy that the young man has handed him a reason to torment him further. They both swig back their drinks together and giving each other a finishing sneer, get ready for another.
An hour and three large, empty bottles later. A very drunk 2-D and Murdoc, are sitting on the balcony, awkwardly trying to sit upright and look sober at the same time. Muds, defiant as ever, grabs at the bottle directly in front of him. After a few unsuccessful swipes, finally manages to catch it and pours the last few trickles into his glass.
"Awww. All gone. Hm, hm, hm." he hiccups sadly, adding a sighing chuckle to the end. Then tosses the empty bottle over the railing. 2-D slack jawed, watches the bottles flight path, then slowly and a bit wobbly, looks at Muds.
"All gone!" he repeats brightly, nearly falling out of his seat. Muds nods and throws the last of the Scotch down his throat and then tosses the glass over the railing as well. 2-D watches the glass, squinting.
"So's that! Ah haw, haw." Muds adds and belches loudly. 2-D giggles and tries to point without falling over.
"W,W,Why's you s'row da glash over." 2-D slurs, blinking hard. He leans forwards and slumps in his chair, the energy to stay upright, almost gone. Muds blinks back at him, his odd eyes nearly crossing for a moment.
"No washing's up!" he says brightly and grins. "Heh, heh. You're drunk." he adds chuckling and turning in his chair to point at the youth. 2-D looks up to say something, opening his mouth. But the thought momentarily slips from his mind. He pauses and tilts his head to think, a little confused. Closing his mouth, he leans back a little, swaying unsteadily on the chair. The thought returns and 2-D turns on the chair to face the bassist, who seems a little lost himself, but looses his balance and falls to one knee before the old man. Reaching out his hands for something to support him, he grabs Muds hands. Murdoc freezes in shock, by the sudden event and at that precise moment, Russel steps out onto the balcony. All three men stare at one another. Russel turns instantly on his heel and walks straight back into the kitchen.
"Well that was unexpected." the large man mutters, opening the proceeding door and walking out into the corridor. "Guess I don't haffta ask, who gets to wear the weddin' dress den." he adds with a chuckle.