Somehow she'd gotten in bed. Somehow she'd traveled the distance between her neighbor's apartment and her own. It completely perplexed her. She could only scream in response.
The footsteps pounded through her apartment. She wasn't alone, she realized as she sat straight up in ...bed. As the ...well wishers entered into the bedroom, she looked up into the eyes of her next door neighbor. Confused. "I passed out…"
Her neighbor smiled good naturedly, and then nodded. "Yep," he replied softly. She saw his eyes darting around the room...the pictures, posters and other stuff that cluttered the walls and ceiling of this place she'd somehow made hers. When he turned back to her, he had a look on his face that could have been interpreted to mean many things, none of which involved approval. "Nice place…"
Sarah smiled in spite of herself as she caught sight of the illusion, the guy who was the spitting image of the one her heart missed the most. He was there, standing in the corner, the shadows. Watching her. But he didn't scare her...the expression on his face was too...familiar for her to be scared. It spoke volumes, most of which informed her that he'd most likely been the one to carry her downstairs, and that he stood back, not wanting to be too close, but at the same time, prepared to intervene if necessary. "Thanks," she replied, not to her neighbor's comment, but to him...the illusion.
As he nodded, she ran her hands through her hair and grimaced when she heard the unmistakable sound that could only be her stomach. Growling. She laughed, half heartedly, deciding that trying to hide the growl was just dumb. "Damm," she made out with a shake of her head. "I'm hungry. You guys want something?"
She watched her neighbor thinking out of the corner of her eye. For some reason, she wasn't surprised when she saw him turn towards the bedroom door. "Sloan…" he yelled, his face turned towards the direction of the living room. "You hungry?"
"Sure," came a muffled voice from the living room. In Sarah's estimation, the voice most likely belonged to Sloan. Whoever Sloan was.
At a quick nod from the illusion standing, as he stayed, in the shadows, Sarah attempted the daunting task of getting out of bed. She could feel his eyes on her, as she slowly stretched her muscles, testing them as she slowly got to her feet, and noticed a small smile light up his face once she'd managed being upright for a few minutes.
Once she felt comfortable on her own two feet, she cracked her knuckles and smiled broadly herself. "Good," she pronounced, half talking about the fact she was standing unaided and didn't feel dizzy, half responding to the spoken and unspoken requests for food. "I'm famished." And then realized she felt dehydrated enough to down the contents of an ocean without coming up for air. Well, she chided herself, maybe an ocean was a bit too much; a huge glass of something wet would be a much better idea. " Drinks to start?" She turned to the illusion, simple gratitude coloring her features. She owed him. "Hot cocoa for you?" she suggested.
Sarah saw the illusion nod, understanding in his eyes. "Sure," he replied, his voice calm. Definitely very unlike him, she decided. Not just because the absence of bangs was noticeable when he nodded
One down, she turned towards her neighbor as she stepped into her slippers. The puffy yellow ones with the attached bees. "Well neighbor?"
Her neighbor had a predictable grin on his face. She knew what he wanted before he opened his mouth to answer her. "I have a craving for mountain dew."
She chuckled as she left the bedroom, followed by both her neighbor and the illusion. "Classic, eh. Its hard to find out here…I have it shipped from back east…"
She couldn't help but miss the gleam in her neighbor's eye as the three of them walked to the living room. She also noticed the woman with the curly chestnut hair sitting comfortably on her couch. That, she deduced, was Sloan. Sarah smiled at the woman, and before she had a chance to introduce herself, there was a knock at the door.
Sarah raised her eyebrows, somehow hoping that someone was expecting a pizza as she turned to answer it.
The door opened and a young woman about Sarah's own age stood on the other side. She had short brown hair, green eyes, ramrod straight posture and an Air Force uniform. "We're in serious trouble," she burst out once she got a look at Sarah's face. And before Sarah could say anything, the young woman was looking over her shoulder. She braced herself for the inevitable. "Mitch? I thought you were on the other side of the country...and I gotta tell you Stewart, I hate the haircut."
Sarah felt herself blushing furiously. "Cass," she made out. "This isn't..."
"Chris Hewson…PhD," came the voice of the illusion from behind her. She felt his hand cross through to shake Cass's.
Sarah saw Cass raise her eyebrows and braced herself. "Well," she replied as Sarah felt her stomach flip in about five different ways. "I'd really like to know what exactly you think it is..."
Sarah smirked. "I know you would, and trust me," she continued with a shake of her head as she gestured towards Cass to follow her into the apartment. "It's not as interesting an explanation as you'd think it would be."
She heard Cass laugh as the three of them headed back into the living room to join her other...guests. "Nothing," Cass remarked dryly. "Would be as interesting an explanation as I'd expect to hear from you..."
Sarah groaned as she gestured towards her neighbor and the woman sitting next to him. "Cass Schultz.," she began slowly, sure of herself. "I'd like you to meet ..." And then she paused, trying to remember the names that somehow had come into her head at some point during the day. "Ed and Sloan?" she ventured.
"Ed Tate, " her neighbor interjected, smiling. as he held out her hand. "This is my colleague...Sloan Parker."
Sarah nodded as she took his hand. "And I," she replied, "for those of you who don't know me, am Sarah Drake, your hostess for the afternoon." She grinned wickedly as she inspected everybody who sat around her. "Now who's hungry?"