Why was it that the only time that Derek really NEEDED a taxi, there was none to be found? He was standing on the sidewalk with Karen's gym bag on one shoulder and Karen herself balancing on the other. Her nap had done nothing to improve her mental state, except perhaps make it worse. Between her drowsiness and drunkenness, Derek was having trouble keeping her upright. Navigating the pair of them down the sound booth's stairs had been no easy feat.
"Take me home." He was trying to grant her request, but he had two major obstacles in his path. The first was getting a cab. The yellow vehicles, which usually covered the streets of New York like ants over a dropped ice cream cone, seemed to have completely disappeared. Derek's second problem was that he didn't know Karen's address, and she was being less than forth-coming.
"I want to take you home Karen, but first you to tell me where home is."
"You're psychic. You tell me." Karen's smiled drowsily up at him. Derek would not be put off. He was currently in charge of Karen's caretaking and he took that responsibility very seriously.
"My extra-sensory powers expired at midnight. I need you to tell me the old fashion way."
"Nope. Not when I've finally stumped you." Her voice had become sing-song. It would have been tremendously cute if it wasn't so aggravating.
"Karen, I am being serious. Tell me where you live right now!" He sounded like father yelling at his wayward daughter. It was funny, because generally he didn't feel in the least paternal toward her.
"I don't take orders from you," Karen paused a moment, reconsidering her words, "Actually I do. Actually we all do. We're like an army, and you're our general. Or our king. A really bossy king. A tyrant. But a nice tyrant. Take me home." She closed her eyes and nestled into his shoulder. He couldn't make up his mind whether it more endearing or exasperating. She gave a little contended sigh. He felt a sudden rush of affection. Searching his memory Derek found he couldn't recall a more bewitching drunk than Karen Cartwright.
"You really are a light-weight, aren't you?"
"And you're a tyrant. Take me home." There it was, that word 'tyrant' again. It sounded like something his performers called him after a brutal rehearsal. When Karen said it though, it didn't sound like a derogative term, more like…an endearment. Tyrant. He rather liked it.
Suddenly Karen fell backward. Derek only just managed to get his arms positioned under her, preventing her from landing on her back. His eyes flew to her face, terrified that she'd blacked out, the something was seriously wrong with her. Karen's eyes were wide open and her smile was reminiscent of the cat that ate the canary.
"Karen! You did that on purpose." Her smile was pure Cheshire cat grin.
"Yep. Now WE'RE doing Gone with the Wind." Derek was startled to realize that they were, in fact, in that iconic pose. It much harder than good old Clark Gable made it look.
"More like Gone Three Sheets to the Wind."
"You're funny." She made no move to return her feet to the pavement. She seemed content to let Derek keep holding her indefinitely.
"You're heavy." That was a lie, but he needed her out of his arms before he did something he'd regret. He set her feet down on the sidewalk and Karen grudging righted herself.
"No, I'm light, remember?" He was amazed she could still recall his words from all those months ago, especially in her current state. "Take me home." If she wanted to go home so badly, WHY wouldn't she just tell him her address?
"I bloody can't if you wouldn't tell me-" There it was, the elusive taxi cab. He held out his spare arm. "Taxi!" Miraculously the cab pulled over in front of them. He turned to Karen.
"Sod it. You want me to take you home? Fine. I'm taking you home."