You know the deal - some notes at the end. Quick reminder: Céc = short for Cécile.

Onward~!

"I'm such an idiot."

12:27 AM saw an intoxicated King laying sideways across her sofa with her head resting on Mary's lap, one arm dangling limply off to the side. She squinted blankly at the television, which was the only light source in the apartment.

"I had a shot at… something," she lamented while Mary lazily ran her fingers through her hair, "but I completely fucked it up."

"You're not an idiot. You're just traumatized."
"A traumatized idiot."
"Aww, bb, don't say that!"
"But it's the truth! Not only did I almost get with a married woman, but, for a second I thought…"

King trailed off as a lump started to form in the back of her throat.

"Thought what?" Mary asked.
"Thought that I could… I'unno. Get that sunuvabitch outta my head for once. Just be —" King flailed her arm — "a person again!"
"You still are a person. And, I mean, yeah — it's gonna take a little more time befor —"
"But I'm tired of everything taking time! Time, time, time! It's been long enough, hasn't it?!"

King was silent for just a moment as her mood began to shift away from disappointed sadness. Bitterness and resentment rapidly set in, which lead to a new thought process that was probably maybe a little too personal but also, fuck it, because she was drunk and Mary was her friend so it would be fine if she just came out and said it because she was already thinking it anyway.

"... I should have done it out of spite," she grumbled before letting out a loud sniffle.
"What do you mean?" Mark asked carefully.
"Just as a big 'fuck you' to… him. It would have been grand! You didn't make me cum, but she did, so take that! Asshole!"

Mary stopped playing with King's hair, evidently perturbed by the statement.

"Okay, one: it —"
"Wasn't about that, I know. It was about humiliation. Inflicting pain, blah blah blah!"
"Right. And two, even if you had gone ahead with it, you'd have just ended up feeling bad about banging someone's wife."
"Mary Ryan! La voix de la raison!" King proclaimed while raising her fist into the air.
"How much did you say you had to drink?"
"Not enough. I should prob'ly get some vodka now."

King started to get up but Mary instantly pushed her back down.

"Nope. No more booze for you."

King groaned: On one hand, she was grateful that Mary was watching out for her (the last thing she needed was a serious hangover) but on the other, she was an adult, goddamnit, and if she wanted to drink more, that was her right! Her right as a flawed and... dirty... and... utterly repugnant...

All at once a massive wave of self-loathing washed over King. She hated herself for letting the things that happened happen and she hated herself for acting so foolish — for thinking that she could get past it — but she hated him more. She hated that, in the span of a few minutes, he reduced her to such a hopeless shell of a person. A hopeless, unlovable, unfuckable shell.

"Did I tell you what Vanessa said when she found out?" King asked miserably.
"You did."
"She said if she had known she 'would have never.' She would have never laid a hand on me — probably because I'm too gross."
"I know her. I know she didn't mean it like that."
"Wha'ever Mary," King sighed, "You're just trying to make me feel better, but I know that's exactly how she meant it."
"Céc…"
"How do you even know her so well, anyway?"
"We… met through a case I was working."

King clumsily rolled over so that she was on her back. She glanced up at Mary, who looked a little uneasy, before momentarily shutting her eyes, which were starting to burn a little. She had a feeling that her makeshift pillow wasn't being completely honest with her, which kind of hurt, but grilling her while drunk probably wasn't the best course of action. It didn't really matter though because her thoughts swiftly drifted back to the situation at hand.

"You know, before all of… that… happened… I hadn't been with anyone in a couple o'years," she began.

Mary opened her mouth to respond but King quickly moved her hand up and over her head, toward her friend's mouth in an attempt to shush her.

"Don't say her name."
"Okay but get your hand outta my face."
"The point is —" King did as she was told and held up her index finger — "I never really thought about it. I didn't need... to do… any of that!"
"You still don't."
"But I think... I actually wanted to! Vanessa's so hot, and she was so into it…! And, we were really close! But she's still married... And now she knows about… things… and she thinks I'm helpless and disgusting."
"Oh, bb," Mary said gently, "She doesn't think less of you because of it."
"But I think less of me," King exclaimed. She unsteadily sat up, suddenly furious, as she recalled every mistake she made that day.

"I should have done more to stop him! I should have broken more than just his nose! Mais non! Instead of kicking every square inch of his ass right when he approached me I — If I had just turned around maybe I wouldn't have even been gra —"

"Don't go down this road," Mary interrupted. "You know you did everything you could —"
"I didn't do shit!"
"You did what you cou —"
"I. didn't. do. shit," King repeated savagely. She buried her face in her hands, almost overwhelmed by the sheer negativity of her emotions, and made a loud, angry noise. She unintentionally flinched when Mary placed a soothing hand on her back.

"Bb —"
"Don't," King croaked as she uncovered her face, "Don't try to make me feel better. There's nothing you can say."
"I know," Mary acknowledged. With that, she grabbed King and pulled her into a tight hug. "But I'm still here to listen to your drunk ass talk about whatever it is you need to talk about for as long as you need to talk about it."

That was the proverbial straw that broke the proverbial camel's back: King's rage was instantly snuffed out as she burst into tears yet again. Mary was so nice, and so supportive, and such a good friend, and King didn't know what she would do without her.

"I love you," she blubbered between sobs.
"Ditto," Mary replied. She gently shook King before pushing her hair out of her face. "I think it's time for you to sleep. Do you wanna sleep now?"

King slowly nodded.

"Come on."

Mary walked King, who was surprised by how gone her balance actually was, to her bedroom, where she started climbing into bed.

"What kind of chaotic evil shit is this?" Mary inquired as she turned on a lamp. "At least take off your pants."

"I love it when you talk dirty to me," King joked despite the fact that tears were running down her cheeks.

"Just do it."

King awkwardly peeled off her skinny jeans (Mary had to help keep her steady) and haphazardly tried to kick them across the room. Unsurprisingly she missed. She scowled down at the discarded clothing; how dare the stupid thing dodge her maneuver like that?! A wayward chuckle brought her attention back to Mary, who was giggling madly.

"The tacosauruses?! You were going to get busy with those on?!"
"I think she saw them when I was bending over and I think she liked 'em," King said as she crawled under her covers.

And, just like that, Vanessa was on her mind again: Their awkward conversations, and the things that almost happened between them, and the look in her eyes when she saw King breaking down like the emotional wreck she was. How on earth could she possibly face her after all of that?

"You're thinking about her again."

Mary sat down at the foot of the bed; she placed a hand on King's ankle, a huge frown on her face.

"How did you…?"
"I'm a detective. And your totally platonic lady love," Mary asserted with a tilt of her head. "I know how you think."
"Okay, Professor X," King sniffled while she bunched her pillow up under her head, "How can I even…? What the hell can I say to her?"
"Don't think about this when you're drunk. Wait until you're sober, okay?"
"But I'm thinking about it now."
"Worry about it in the morning."
"...okay," came King's groggy reply.
"Will you be alright?"
"Mm-hm."

Mary patted King's leg before standing up. She looked down at her, thoughtful, for what felt like it might have been a little too long before finally shutting off the lamp."See you later," she said as she walked out of the room.
"Bye."King sighed as her muddled thoughts wandered right back to Vanessa.

###

It was only almost an hour and a half later when King bolted upright in her bed. Her breath came in shallow bursts as she frantically looked around the dark room, a little dazed, but thoroughly unnerved. She placed a hand on her aching head and sucked air in through her teeth while squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to get her bearings, but the entire place was slowly rocking back and forth like a bad carnival ride.

Predictably, King's dream had been awful and strange: She had found herself pinned against the pool table at Illusion, badly hurt and struggling for air as she was forced to tell him some of the filthiest things she could think of in her native language. She turned away after making a particularly graphic statement — and saw Vanessa sitting at the bar, casually reading a magazine.

King remembered screaming for help but her pleas fell on deaf ears as Vanessa just sat there, engrossed in an article. Every now and then she looked up so she could make snide comments about how mediocre King was: her fighting skills meant nothing; she couldn't protect herself, let alone her little brother; she was nothing more than a jizz receptacle...

Suddenly queasy, King dashed to the bathroom, where she vomited several times. When she was done she sat back against the wall and pushed her hair out of her face, disturbed by the scene her subconscious had painted for her. Vanessa's presence was horrifying: seeing her there — hearing her say those things — was like being stabbed in the gut over and over again.

King slowly rose to her feet, legs wobbly, definitely still tipsy. She held onto the wall as she made her way to the living room to find her phone, which she had left on the table. She knew that doing anything other than checking the time would be a terrible idea in her state, but she couldn't help it. She had to do… something. Anything to try to get that nightmare out of her head. She plucked the gadget from its place and double-tapped the screen so she could check the time, only to be greeted by a notification banner informing her that there was a text message from Vanessa. It had come in hours before — maybe while she was sleeping? — and simply read:

"Are you okay?"
"Non~" King lazily sang out loud as she unlocked the phone. She stared down at the bright screen until the words became blurry, all the while wondering if she should text Vanessa back. After all, they were going to have to talk anyway; maybe if she sent a message now, she could get ahead of the game. Then again, trying to type would probably be a nightmare.

...Calling would be much easier.

Although fairly certain she was making a mistake, King tapped the tiny little receiver icon at the top of the screen… and immediately had a change of heart. She hung up as quickly as she could, hoping that she was able to end the call before it even connected.

After several tense seconds, she placed the phone down, relieved that —

"SHE'S MY CHERRY PIE; A COOL DRINK OF WATER SUCH A SWEET SURPRISE~"

King jumped back, startled: She didn't remember setting a ringtone for Vanessa, let alone that one. Mary must have done it before she left, the cheeky minx. Nevertheless, King stared at her phone in abject terror while Warrant screamed into the apartment. With a shaking hand she used the slider to answer the call. As she brought the device up to her ear she tried to think of something casual, something cool to say, but, instead, she sputtered the very first thing that came to mind:

"I'm drunk."
"Hi, drunk," Vanessa replied, her voice tired but oddly cheerful for someone who had just been woken up at such a crazy hour. "What can I do for you?"

At that, King froze. What could Vanessa do for her? She stood, slack jawed, as she tried to think of a sensible response. However, her befuddled brain had other ideas.

"You can come back and we can finish what we started but that would be the biggest cliché, wouldn't it? Céc drunk dials a married woman for sex she can't even have because somebody, well… somebody did some horrible things so now I guess I can't… do… that… and it's really stupid because I should be able to just… do it, right?"

"...Céc?" Vanessa asked, clearly a little confounded.
"It's French for idiot," King quickly answered. She placed a hand on her head and willed herself to find a way to end the call before she started blabbering on again. She opened her mouth to start talking some more but was stopped by Vanessa's angelic laughter.

"I take it you finished off that wine?"
"Nuh — no. Yes."

King furrowed her brow, a little uncertain of what was even going on. She tried to think back: she had a really bad dream... so she threw up… and now she was on the phone… with Vanessa, whom she had no business talking to at this hour. Or maybe even ever after the way she —

"...King? Are you still there?"
"Je suis trop bourré pour gérer ça…!" King stated very seriously.
"I'm sorry, but I only took one semester of French, and it was all the way back in junior high," Vanessa replied. "Can you tell me that in English?"
"Je — yeah. English! Yeah. I was… What was I saying?"

Vanessa laughed again, which elicited a small, somewhat nervous giggle from King, who was still a little lost.

"I think you were saying that we should get together and talk," Vanessa said. "What are you up to tomorrow?"
"I'm off."
"Then, how about… we meet up at Pao Pao? Around four?"
"Yeah…" King nodded, but the motion made her feel a little sick again. "We can… we can do that."
"Are you going to remember this in the morning? Should I text you?"
"Wouldn't hurt."
"Awesome!"

King heard the sound of fabric rustling around before Vanessa spoke again.

"Hey — I'd like you to do something for me."
"S'asseoir sur ton visage?"

King's heart dropped out of her chest as she gripped her phone tightly, appalled at herself for saying that, but also incredibly thankful that she had at least said it in French. She held her breath while heat rapidly crept up her neck and into her cheeks, convinced that Vanessa was going to reveal that she did, in fact, understand French before crawling out of the phone with the express purpose of murdering her.

"If that means drink some water, then, yes, I'd like you to do exactly that," came Vanessa's friendly response.
"O-okay," King stammered.
"Now, do it because it's very important, and go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow — at four."
"Y-yeah. See you tomorrow..."

Several low beeps sounded, letting King know that Vanessa had hung up. She exhaled loudly as she entered the kitchen and turned on the lights so she could get her water. She was glad that she had (barely) survived the conversation without making too much of a fool out of herself, but she still had their planned meeting to get through. She poured her drink and lowered herself onto the floor with her back against the freezer: Marron sauntered over, purring loudly, and began headbutting her hand as she drank.

"Here," she murmured as she held the cup out toward the cat. She raised her eyebrows when he eagerly stuck his entire face directly into it.

"Ahhh, Marron…"

The cat freed himself from the cup and rubbed against King's arm. She stared down at a single hair that was floating in the water.

"Je suis... un putain de désastre," she groaned before gulping the rest of the liquid down.

As promised, some more notes for your reading pleasure:

* King and Mary are bros. Deal with it.
* La voix de la raison = the voice of reason
* King's last relationship was a bit of a mess...
* For anybody who needs a reminder in regards to the events of Much Like Suffocating: King is approached by the driver and breaks his nose before she's grabbed from behind by his accomplice, the gunman.
* Mary referring to King wearing jeans to bed as chaotic evil: there's a sleepwear alignment chart floating around on tumblr; those who sleep in jeans are classified as chaotic evil
* "Professor X": The leader of the X-Men and a very powerful mind reader.
* Non = no
* The ringtone Mary set for Vanessa is Cherry Pie by Warrant, which King kept on getting stuck in her head in previous chapters
* Je suis trop bourré pour gérer ça = I'm too drunk to process this
* S'asseoir sur ton visage? = Sit on your face?
* Cat owners. That's it.
* Je suis... un putain de désastre = I am... a fucking disaster

Omg, you guys. Where's this going?! Hopefully you'll stick around to find out! Cheers~!