Author's Note to Elane (my one reviewer!): You'll just have to read and find out how honest he is, I guess. : ) I think you'll be pleased with how things go.
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Lita drove the both of them back to her hotel and, with considerable effort, helped Raven up to the room.
"Gawd, do you get heavier when you're drunk?"
"Alcohol weighs a whole lot," Raven muttered. "Anyway, how would you know, it's not like you've ever had to carry me before now anyway."
"Thank God," she said under her breath.
When they finally managed to make it inside the room, Amy just kind of let Scott drop down onto the bed. He immediately tried to sit up and protest.
"Naw Ames, I don't want to impose. I can't take the bed. I'll just crash on the couch, okay?"
"You've already crashed," she told him, as his head thumped back down on the pillow. He was so drunk he could hardly move. "Anyway," she explained. "You are going to sleep on the couch. I was just tired of having to hold you up and needed a break."
"Understandable," he agreed sleepily. Then, abruptly he said, "You're such a great person, Amy."
She laughed a little and shook her head at him, coming to sit on the side of the bed next to where he lay. "No, I'm just a person with a great hotel room that has a couch."
"No, I'm serious," he slurred, fumbling up to take her hand. "You're an amazing...beautiful woman...and you deserve the best the world can offer you."
At the time, in Raven's alcohol-influenced mind, everything he was saying seemed to make perfect sense. He squinted up at her, trying to make the three blurred Litas he was seeing become one.
"I have to ask you," he said, rubbing her hand with his thumb. "Will you marry me?"
"Um, Scott, that's really sweet," she told him. "And I appreciate the gesture and everything...but you just slipped your keyring onto my finger."
"Yeah, I guess I didn't really plan this too well," he muttered, releasing her hand.
"Hey, at least you're not an angry or depressed drunk. You're a very romantic one." Lita leaned over and kissed the top of his forehead, right near the hairline. "Sleep it off. I don't think you'll be so willing to propose when you're sober."
She turned off the light and went to take the spot on the couch. She faintly heard Scott's slurred mumble. "You never know. 'Night Amy."
"Goodnight. Try to sleep."
"You too."
"I don't know how easy that will be," Amy thought to herself, lying awake in the dark, wondering how much of what drunk people said they actually meant.
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Lita drove the both of them back to her hotel and, with considerable effort, helped Raven up to the room.
"Gawd, do you get heavier when you're drunk?"
"Alcohol weighs a whole lot," Raven muttered. "Anyway, how would you know, it's not like you've ever had to carry me before now anyway."
"Thank God," she said under her breath.
When they finally managed to make it inside the room, Amy just kind of let Scott drop down onto the bed. He immediately tried to sit up and protest.
"Naw Ames, I don't want to impose. I can't take the bed. I'll just crash on the couch, okay?"
"You've already crashed," she told him, as his head thumped back down on the pillow. He was so drunk he could hardly move. "Anyway," she explained. "You are going to sleep on the couch. I was just tired of having to hold you up and needed a break."
"Understandable," he agreed sleepily. Then, abruptly he said, "You're such a great person, Amy."
She laughed a little and shook her head at him, coming to sit on the side of the bed next to where he lay. "No, I'm just a person with a great hotel room that has a couch."
"No, I'm serious," he slurred, fumbling up to take her hand. "You're an amazing...beautiful woman...and you deserve the best the world can offer you."
At the time, in Raven's alcohol-influenced mind, everything he was saying seemed to make perfect sense. He squinted up at her, trying to make the three blurred Litas he was seeing become one.
"I have to ask you," he said, rubbing her hand with his thumb. "Will you marry me?"
"Um, Scott, that's really sweet," she told him. "And I appreciate the gesture and everything...but you just slipped your keyring onto my finger."
"Yeah, I guess I didn't really plan this too well," he muttered, releasing her hand.
"Hey, at least you're not an angry or depressed drunk. You're a very romantic one." Lita leaned over and kissed the top of his forehead, right near the hairline. "Sleep it off. I don't think you'll be so willing to propose when you're sober."
She turned off the light and went to take the spot on the couch. She faintly heard Scott's slurred mumble. "You never know. 'Night Amy."
"Goodnight. Try to sleep."
"You too."
"I don't know how easy that will be," Amy thought to herself, lying awake in the dark, wondering how much of what drunk people said they actually meant.