a/n. for brOTP Bootcamp over at the of prompts and challenges forum, using the prompt: 'I fell down the stairs.
brOTP: piper&leo
Right Over
They were getting old.
Well, not really old. Just older. With each passing day, Piper found herself more interested in things like the morning news and the classifieds. She had finally grown used to the bitter taste of coffee, because if there was one thing she would never turn down, it was extra energy.
Not to mention the gray hair she had found the other day, or the frown lines she had convinced herself were appearing between her eyebrows. Instead of dreading the rush that came when fighting monsters, she now anticipated it, enjoyed it, even; the sharpening of the senses, the ultra fast beating of her heart, the way the world seemed to slow down and speed up simultaneously. It made her feel like she had when she was much younger, still learning the ropes, praying for strength and all the while hoping she wouldn't need it.
Piper McLean was, of course, only twenty-six years of age, but she still felt like a forty year-old woman.
But, unfortunately, none of this had stopped any of them from getting into trouble. Just the week before Leo and season had been kicked out of a bar for reasons which they had refused to disclose to her and which she had been too tired to Charmspeak out of them. Leo would spill, anyway. He was a blabbermouth if there ever was one; she'd know by the end of the month, surely.
She sank deeper into her couch. Today was her day off. She could relax and enjoy herself without having to worry about seventeen sticky five year-olds and whatever bladder issues they might have.
She reached for the remote control. Yeah, TV sounded like a nice idea. She turned on the news—
And was distracted from a report on the new toy store nearby by a buzz in the pocket of her thin cotton robe. Her cell phone. Just for emergencies, Chiron had said warningly—still keeping a watchful eye on her safety, after all these years—and she sighed and wondered just what had happened this time. She pulled it from her pocket and punched in the pass code, taking a moment to check the caller ID before she brought it to her ear.
Leo Valdez. Of course. Who else?
"Valdez," she sighed, sounding irritable, and like someone who wanted an explanation, and fast.
"Beauty Queen," he answered back—and there was something off about his voice, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it…
He was slurring. She scowled, already suspicious, and said demandingly, "Leo"—and here she employed the tone she typically used with guilty children—"are you drunk?"
"What?" he replied, a bit more clearly now. "No, of course not. This," he began, and paused. She wondered, briefly, how long it would take to clean up the mess he'd made this time. "This," he repeated, in a would-be firm voice (she found the slight slurring rather unconvincing), "is an urgent situation we've got here, Pipes."
"We?" she repeated, incredulous. "I don't recall advising you to go off and get dr—"
"Ifelldownthestairs," he muttered.
"What? Leo—"
"I sorta fell down the stairs."
"You did WHAT?"
"I'm not repeating myself," he told her, sounding embarrassed. "Could you just—"
"I'll be right over," she assured him, and tried to remember where she'd left her keys.