35: Crashing
09/25/97
Week Six

Long after Shawn had crashed and burned, Fallon returned to the billiard room in order to start cleaning the mess. She took along an urn of coffee she had brewed herself, not overly bothered by the coffee grounds she had found in the liquid upon completion. She would be the first to admit, she wasn't someone who should be allowed in a kitchen for any purpose outside of getting ice cream.

She had also brought along a bottle of brandy she had taken from Vi's stash, seriously considering taking over her Grandmother's bedroom, the old broad had had a really lovely selection of liquor. Fresh tee shirt, denim shorts and her hair pulled on top of her head, with yellow, rubber gloves protecting her hands as she picked up the glass. She could have been the hired help right about now. Actually no, the hired help would have a fit if they had seen this mess…

"This don't mean that, you own me." She sang, having plugged in the stereo again, listening along to one of her own tapes. "This ain't no good, in fact it's phony as hell. But things worked out just like you wanted too."

Matchbox Twenty was awesome, she was pretty much over country music by this point. The only problem was, for some reason, the song was making her teary. She was blaming it on the fact that her menstrual cycle was coming up… in about two weeks… and not the psychological effects of her cocaine crash.

"Everyone here, hates everyone here for doing just like they do." She made a mental note to call someone in to repair the window… and to replace the felt on the table. "Gets caught up in the pleasure of the pain, everyone hides…" Before Grace and Earl returned…

"Shut up, I don't care about your fucking issues, I have my own!"

Shawn felt like his head was going to explode, the feeling only intensifying at the sound of drunken amusement in Fallon's tone of voice. She was a drinker when she wasn't working; he was more than used to that at this point. He glanced at the clock over the unlit fireplace; it was pushing midnight… how long had he been asleep?

He remembered sexing it up with her on the pool table and that was about it; he had crashed and burned spectacularly. She was probably pissed off with him for forcing himself on her, but she hadn't said no either… or at least, if she had, he hadn't heard it. She had seemed pretty damn willing.

He walked into the parlor, spotting her curled up in one of the large, leather chairs, looking like she had showered not too long ago. He was right, there was a decanter of something on the stand next to her, and she was raising a half-filled glass to her lips, phone held carelessly in her hand near her face.

"Damn right you do, look who you're-"

Speakerphone, brilliant, and she was talking to Hunter… double brilliant.

"Say it and I will strangle you through the cord! You drunk dialed me, you! Who're you drinking with?"

Hunter laughed nervously. "Uh, can't tell you, you'll harass me…"

Shawn snorted, standing just out of her line of sight, folding his arms over his bare chest.

"Male or female?"

"Fuck you Fal!"

"Mmm, I'm not quite that drunk, Huntie boy."

"Don't call me that you bitch!"

"I like it when you talk dirty, turns me right the frick on!"

Hunter groaned. "Female."

"Good boy. Is she blonde?"

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"It's Jeannie, okay? She does this twist thing…"

Okay, that wasn't exactly something Shawn wanted to hear and his eyes narrowed slightly. Was everyone these days sleeping around like sluts?

"You're fucking Jeannie? From wardrobe?" Fallon was laughing her ass off, laughing even harder when he hung up on her.

"Huntie boy and Jeannie eh?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin, twisting in the chair to look at him and nodded, setting the phone aside. "My little Hunter has finally gotten his dick out of retirement, again." She joked, killing off what was left in her glass in three polished swallows.

Shawn chuckled dryly, walking over to sit in the chair opposite of her.

"Gran was holding out on me," She commented, refilling the glass and in turn emptying the brandy bottle. "This shit is really, really good…" She swirled the glass, watching the liquid for a moment. "So, how was the nap? And uh, if you're hungry, there's shit in the fridge. I can't cook but Henri left a bunch of stuff to eat." She had obviously decided to be cordial, and that might have been the booze talking, encouraging her to be nice.

"Not at the moment, maybe in a bit, thanks." He eyeballed the curio that held the liquor, wondering if he would find water in there. His mouth was incredibly dry, and he finally pushed himself out of the chair to go check, letting out a silent prayer when he found bottles neatly lining a shelf. He drained one almost immediately and took the second back to the chair with him, feeling marginally better. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked quietly, not looking at her.

Considering he had been drugged nearly out of his mind? While she had been relatively sober? It had felt… different, but not painful, so she shook her head no. "It wasn't anything we haven't done before, Shawn." She said, mildly surprised that he was even aware that their mental states had been totally different at the time. "You sound tired, go back to bed." That's where she was heading soon, her entire body feeling pleasantly heavy. "And at least look at me, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing… I just wanted to make sure I didn't rape you or somethin'." He finally met her eyes. "Are we okay?"

"Sure Shawn, we're okay." She said quietly, rising from her chair. "I'm going to bed now, honey, you should too." Fallon chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before walking out of the room.

They were about as okay as they ever got. He hadn't been kidding about the love/hate thing and now it was only worse, probably not helped by the drugs, or alcohol. Once in her room, she took the cigarette case and carried it to the open windows, throwing it. She watched with mixed emotions as it landed in the grass, turning to sink down along the wall and buried her face in her hands. She was so glad Viola wasn't here to see her now.

09/26/97 -Friday

"What the hell is this?"

Shawn woke from a sound sleep at the outraged shriek, jumping and felt something giving beneath him. He managed to haul his still not-functioning properly body out of the chair before it broke. Cursing, he stared down at it, trying to get his mind to work, to stop being so sleepy… Yawning, he glanced out the window. Daytime, afternoon… had he slept all that time in that damn chair? His sleeping schedule was out of sorts, and he had no idea why.

His attention was drawn back to Earl, who was demanding to know what had happened to the house, turning around to find Earl glaring at him. "Uh…"

"It's a bunch of broken shit, what the hell does it look like?"

Earl's attention was drawn to a very cranky sounding Fallon, turning to find her coming down the stairs in her rumpled, yellow silk robe. His eyes widened slightly as he took her in, then narrowed. "I can see that… why is it broken? And what is this on the floor?"

"Scuff marks…" She yawned, slumping down on a step and rested her head against the wall. "I'll clean it up… why are you here?"

"Because I wanted to see how you were doing, and destroying the mansion is now what I-"

"Okay thanks, go away now, I'll clean it." She couldn't stop yawning, really glad he hadn't seen the billiard room before she had tidied that up.

Earl glowered at her, taking a deep breath.

Shawn was about to throw Earl right out those front doors if he didn't shut the hell up. His headache hadn't receded at all and he swore the pounding was now synching with Earl's angry, clipped words. "I did it!" He was now in the main hallway, glaring at the older man. "I did it! I broke the goddamn thing, now shut the fuck up before I fucking kill you!"

Earl was for once, speechless, unable to do more than watch the other man disappear upstairs.

Fallon left Earl standing there in his shock in order to chase after Shawn, not believing he had just threatened her family! Earl was like, an overbearing father/grandfather figure, who had also happened to serve in this house for most of his adult life. She shoved Shawn right through the open door of his room, the guest room. "Don't." Push. "You." Push. "Ever." Slap. "Threaten him again! Don't scream at him either!"

"He broke Viola's favorite chair!" Earl shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

Fallon had to tackle Shawn when he actually lunged for the door, both of them hitting the floor though he got the pleasure of breaking her fall. "Don't you dare!" She was too tired for this, it felt like everything was being drained out of her quicker than before.

"He needs to shut the fuck up then! My head is killin' me and he woke me up for no damn real reason!" Shawn shouted right in her face, wondering if she was serious when he felt her wrapping her palms around his wrists in an effort to hold him down. Did she honestly think that was going to work?

Snorting, he swatted her away with ease and rolled onto his feet. He had to back away, not understanding where this urge to hurt her had come from when it was Earl he wanted to go punch. "I'm goin' back to Texas." He said finally. "Before I fuck up any more of your… antiques…" Or her, he didn't want to hurt her… God, what was wrong with him?

"Well maybe if you'd watch your temper and do a little less blow, breaking shit wouldn't be a problem you moron." She sneered, climbing up on her own feet, all the while glaring at him. "But you're right, you should go back to Texas. You don't belong here, you never did."

They were going to wind up hurting each other, more than what they already had, and she needed him the hell out of her life, immediately, so she could regain her sanity. The man had messed her up, her!

"Earl!" Fallon walked out of the room. "Call Mr. Michael's a cab, he's leaving!" She shouted down the stairs, not looking back at Shawn as she then disappeared into her bedroom.

"Fallon!" Shawn knew what he had just said, about leaving, but he hadn't expected her to just jump on board with it. He chased after her, frowning when she slammed the door in his face, the anger rising again. "This is about Steve, isn't it?"

"Why does it always have to be about Steve, you idiot! This is about us!"

"Bullshit! You're fucking him because you can't handle your feelings for me!"

Fallon let out a very unladylike snort followed by a barking laugh.

"You go to him because he's easy, just like you!" Shawn banged his fists on the door. "You're a lyin' bitch, you know that? I can't believe I wasted my time on a slut like you!"

Earl had been creeping up the stairwell, hearing every word, fully prepared to bring the marble bookend in his hand down on the back of Shawn's head.

Shawn turned in time to see what was about to be planted upside his skull and reacted automatically. His eyes widened when he realized he had just punched Earl right in the face, sending the older man flying to the floor. "Oh… shit…"