The rest of the evening went pleasantly enough, and Delia soon seemed to lose her previous worry, although whether that was due to the temporary solution or fact that she was absolutely sloshed was anyone's guess. The wine had been cracked open and Patsy had contributed the whiskey she'd stashed away. She wasn't sure if she was imagining it, but in all their conversation topics Delia seemed to take a particular interest in her, quizzing her on her Literature course and asking about her home life. If anyone was well-trained in the art of dodging questions, it was Patsy, and thankfully Delia didn't seem too bothered by her vagueness, filling the gaps with anecdotes and queries. It was a shame, really, that she wouldn't be staying - she'd clicked so well with everyone that Patsy rather suspected things would feel positively lacking without her.
"Come on Babs, I think you've had enough."
Barbara's only response to Trixie was a stifled groan, trying to comply with the blonde as she looped her arm around her to get her to her feet. "Let's go, sweetie, to bed with you."
Patsy instinctively stood up to help, but Trixie shook her head, looking over at Delia instead. The Welsh woman was certainly faring better than Barbara, observing the other girls with a vague smile, but she looked on the verge of falling asleep, and Patsy suspected she may need a spot of help moving. "Coming, Delia?" she asked, extending a hand to help the brunette up, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the way her stomach flipped as Delia's hand met hers. Just the whisky, she was sure.
Delia managed around four steps before falling practically in to Patsy, swearing loudly. "Sorry. Whisky I can handle, but wine just…something about it sets me off. Feel like I've drunk myself in to another dimension. Is that normal?"
"Not sure about the parallel universe aspect, but considering we've gone through three bottles between us, I'm not surprised you're feeling it. Come on, I'm at the end of the hall." Patsy wrapped an arm around Delia in an attempt to provide some kind of support, glad that she was still steady enough on her feet to support the Welshwoman. Years of sneaking all sorts of contraband in to her school dorm were clearly paying off.
Patsy deposited Delia on her bed while she went to get changed, deciding that if she was going to pass out, it may as well be somewhere comfortable instead of against a wall, or worse, straight to the floor. Opening a drawer, she flicked through her pyjamas, trying to find something that would fit the brunette. "Do you mind if the pyjamas are a bit long? I must have at least five inches on you, it's rather unavoidable I'm afraid." Silence. "Delia?"
Curious about the lack of response, Patsy looked over her shoulder to find Delia face-down on her bed, fast asleep.
Well, she figured, sofa it is then.
It was only as Patsy went to turn the light out that she realised Delia still had her shoes on, so she abandoned her task and went to remove them. Her hands weren't as steady as they could have been, causing her to jerk Delia's ankle rather harshly, but all she received was a drowsy groan before the brunette began to breathe evenly again. Placing them neatly on the floor, she fetched a second blanket - there was no point in taking Delia in for the night only to send her off with a chill - and gently covered her with it. Without thinking, Patsy took a moment to brush a bit of Delia's fringe out of her eye, snatching her hand back almost immediately and retreating sharply to the sofa.
Despite the fuzziness in her head, sleep certainly didn't come as easily to Patsy.
"How in the world are you so perky after last night?"
Patsy jumped at the sound of Delia's voice, looking over her shoulder to where the brunette was settling in to a seat. "I didn't have nearly as much as you. Besides, when it comes to hangovers I like to simply ignore them until they give up and go away, it makes for a much more productive morning."
"Mind over migraine?"
"Exactly." Patsy shot Delia a lopsided smile, pushing a plate of toast towards her. "Here. There's jam in the cupboard if you want any, I feel like the sugar would be welcome."
Delia grinned back at her. "Thanks. I need to phone the admissions officer, and apparently she's a bit of a dragon, so I'll need to keep my strength up."
Patsy hummed in response, moving to sit beside Delia with coffee in hand and reaching for a piece of toast. They ate in silence for a few minutes,
"Pats?"
Patsy looked up, an eyebrow raised at the shortening of her name. "Yes, Deels?" she teased gently. Delia shot her a look of mixed irritation and amusement, her mouth forming a small smirk before softening.
"Thank you for taking care of me last night. You could have moved me to the sofa, you know, I wouldn't have minded. It's your bed."
"Nonsense, I was perfectly comfortable," she paused, a mischievous grin forming. "Besides, I think I'd have been a lot less sympathetic if you'd dribbled all over the sofa arm. At least I can wash the pillowcases."
Delia looked at her for a long moment, and Patsy could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. She began to worry that she'd gone too far, perhaps Delia thought she was serious, she couldn't tell. Just as she opened her mouth to apologise, Delia began to speak again.
"Difficult not to, really, when five feet away from someone who looks like you."
She didn't stop to see Patsy's reaction, merely winking at her before standing and heading back in to Patsy's room to change her clothes, leaving the redhead in a state of stunned silence at the kitchen table. Almost immediately after Delia disappeared, Trixie waltzed in, oblivious to Patsy's dazed state. "Have we got any paracetamol? Babs is in rather a state, I'm not sure she even remembers how she ended up like that. We'll have to keep a firmer eye on her - is everything okay?"
Patsy shook her head, snapping herself out of her thoughts. "Of course, still a bit groggy is all." Trixie still didn't look convinced, so Patsy forced a smile on to her face, taking a long sip of coffee. "Honestly, two hours and I'll be right as rain."
"Alright. Where's our lodger, by the way? Did she sleep okay?"
"Getting changed, I think. Or still recovering from last night. I think in future we ought to keep the wine to us until we've trained her and Barbara up a bit."
"I heard that!"
Patsy grinned in the direction of the indignant shout from her room. "One day you'll thank me!"
Trixie eyed her carefully. "Someone's certainly bright-eyed this morning."
"Hangovers are for the weak, so you always say."
"Mm." Trixie paused, surveying the way Patsy's fingers tapped excitedly against her coffee mug, the way her eyes kept dancing to her bedroom door. Dropping her voice, she leaned closer to the redhead. "Are you sure it hasn't got more to do with our tenant?"
Patsy's eyes snapped away from her bedroom, meeting Trixie's thoughtful stare. "Trixie! I hardly know her. It hasn't even been a full day. Besides, the happier I seem, the more scared my hangover becomes. It's a tried and tested method. Delia has nothing to do with it."
Trixie tutted, moving to pour herself some coffee. "I'm not sure the hangover has that much of a mind of its own," she muttered to herself, watching as Patsy's eyes drifted once more to the door, a small smile forming involuntarily on her lips.
"Methinks the lady doth protest too much."
