Happy birthday to me. Today I turn 25, which is totally nuts, but is definitely a thing that's happening. So on this day I bring you guys a gift, hope you're all enjoying this so far, it gets weirder from here on out, but we'll see how that goes. Here is chapter two for you, thanks - J


Chapter 2: A way back in

Well that was a fucking disaster.

To summarise her first week of St. Trinians, she'd have to go back to the days she spent in solitary at Claymore. Thanks to Annabelle's little revelation in the dorms, she was something of a pariah. No big news for her, she could be a complete dick at times, but this was different. People didn't just not like her, they avoided her completely. She didn't even have any insults or pranks to work with; she was a ghost.

To everyone except Annabelle, of course, who trailed around after her like a lost puppy for 90% of their free time. This evening, exhausted and more than a little irritable, she'd left the girl in the dorm and gone for a much needed walk, meandering about the school until she made her way up onto the roof. The sun was setting, so she stayed to watch.

It had been a while since she'd been in a school that allowed its students to wander so freely. It was oddly calming…

She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear the person joining her at the wall until the silence was suddenly broken.
"You should be in bed." Jones' 'Head girl' voice made her turn so fast she almost lost balance, gripping the wall with both hands to prevent a, potentially very embarrassing, fall to the floor, or a potentially fatal, fall from the building…

Priorities Sophie.

Once fairly certain she would remain upright, she looked and found the girl leaning her lower back against the wall, a small smirk on her face as she watched her, clearly very amused by her near death experience.

That was one thing that had been giving her a headache over the past week. Bloody Jones. Everywhere she went; the Head Girl was there, watching. She'd made zero headway in even figuring out her revenge plan, let alone starting to get it underway.

Sophie rolled her eyes at the woman, turning back to look out at the, ever darkening, sky.
"So I should." Thinking better of her position, she swung her legs back over so she was facing the same way as the other girl, deeming it a safer direction to point in.
"But so should you, I suppose. Stalking me?" She arched a brow at nothing in particular, knowing that both she and the Head Girl knew there was more truth to that second part than either of them were going to talk about.
"This happens to be my spot after hours. You're intruding." She didn't sound overly annoyed, more… exasperated.

Being who she was, Sophie was good at spotting weakness. It seemed Miss Jones was tired…
She couldn't help but pounce on the opportunity to gain a little more info.
"Well, I hate to tell you, but you seem kind of tense." She smirked as Jones' head whipped around to face her, but she kept her eyes on the sky.
"I've been told I'm a simply fantastic listener. So, do feel free to unload." She gestured to herself and turned to flash a grin as they woman eyed her suspiciously. She could see right through her, that was clear, and hell, she'd even made it easy for her. The only way Jones would ever relax around her was if she thought she could read her. A worrying flash of amusement flashed through her eyes, and suddenly, Jones' unreadable expression became a lot more open and cheery. A clear trap, and Sophie did not like the wave of caution that rolled down her spine.
"Well, since you're so keen to help, you can come help me take care of Flash." She pushed away from the wall and gestured for her to follow.

"Flash?" She let her question colour her tone as she followed the Head Girl, tucking her hands into her pockets.
"You wouldn't have met him yet, he's our spiv." She shrugged, apparently okay with letting Sophie know the general knowledge of the place. She nodded to herself and tried to push a little further.
"And you need to 'take care of him', why?" She arched a brow, attempting to seem both casual and interested. No easy feat, but she figured she was doing something right as Jones shrugged, pausing at the door.
"We sell vodka. It's strong. Flash seems to think it's too strong to sell without getting pinched." She was watching her carefully and Sophie nodded, making an effort to keep eye contact with disturbingly piercing, chocola-

Brown.

Jones' eyes are brown and are to be described as such.

-eyes. Still, now with a general overview, Sophie nodded, prodding just a little bit further.
"How're you going to do it? If you don't mind me asking, since apparently I'm going to help." She arched a brow as they made their way down the stairs.
"I was thinking of a drinking competition between Anoushka; she's our best drinker, and someone else. But I can't get anyone to volunteer." It was a challenge; blatant and loud as a fog horn. The woman was daring her to seize the opportunity and showing her the stakes all in seven words. If she lives, she's back in, sort of, if she fails and loses them their income, she may as well pack her bags.

High stakes game with everything to lose, just her kind of thing.

A slight frown pulled at her lips, she was a strong drinker, very strong (she'd been drinking for a good few years) but there had to be a catch; there were too many unknowns, too many variables, and Jones was far too willing to share this information. The whole thing stank of a trap.

On the other hand, a way back in was a way back in, and really, who knew when one this perfect would come up again?

When she spoke, she spoke quite slowly and deliberately as she formed a plan.
"Well, if you're really stuck... I could probably give it a go..." She shrugged, deliberately slowing her pace as they approached the back building. She was making her intent clear, offering Jones a choice; accept her help now or have it taken away. Still, the Head Girl kept her composure, offering nothing but a slight smirk that gave Sophie the unshakable feeling that she'd been played.
"I'd owe you one." She straightened up and Sophie flashed a wolfish grin.
"Careful now, might call you out on that." She winked and Jones rolled her eyes as she opened the door, stepping back to let her through first.
"Let's go then."

She got the general idea that this building was supposed to be a garage at one point or another, but it certainly wasn't anymore. Boxes and crates lines the walls and formed precarious isles. First and second years ran here and there, carrying things or directing fork lifts, and she was pretty sure she saw a team of them re-painting a car over somewhere near the door. Still, she followed Jones through to a small, clear area, devoid of crates, boxes or moving equipment. Instead it held a table and chair to one side, obviously a makeshift desk for someone, and in the centre; a smaller table with two stools. On the table sat a great many shot glasses and a, slightly ominous looking, far too familiar, black bottle.

Trinski.

Oh shit.

"Alright Flash, Here's the deal. We prove this stuff doesn't kill and I get no more complaints from you for the next year. Got it?" Jones was all business as she strode purposefully over to the tackiest looking man Sophie had ever seen in her life. Who wore purple leopard print? Really? Or vinyl trousers? And who in the name of sanity wore them together? Still, even as he nodded his consent with an air of moderate fear, the way he was looking at the Head Girl was something completely other than professional and set Sophie's mind buzzing. Was there something going on there? She'd need to watch that.

Was it possible to be both terrified of and turned on by a single person? Flash seemed to be managing it.

A tall girl appeared next to her and Sophie turned to offer her a small smile. It was a nervous action; she knew of Trinski, she'd encountered it before; she had seen what it did to people. Given the slight sway that seemed ready to topple the girl and the distinct smell of vodka radiating off of her, Sophie had to guess that the newcomer was Anoushka, the best drinker in St. Trinians, and, apparently, her opponent for the evening.

She gave her a respectful nod which the other girl returned. Thinking about it, she was actually pretty hot.

What was it with this school? Was it a secret base for future models?

Rolling her eyes she turned her attention away from Anoushka. Jones was still threatening Flash with something or other to ensure he didn't go back on his word, but after a few minutes of the man looking ready to wet himself in more ways than one, they shook hands. Apparently satisfied, Jones gestured for Sophie and Anoushka to sit at the table.

After only a brief hesitation, Sophie complied, following the, completely-unfazed, blonde to the centre of, what was now, a ring of students.

A couple of first years came forward and started pouring the shots for them, Sophie forced herself to relax as she watched them pour, twelve glasses meant six each.

Her first thought was that she could manage this.

Then the smell hit her like several tones of bricks.

Her eyes watered as the alcohol evaporating into the air burnt her nose. Damn, a girl could get drunk from the fumes alone.

What in the name of hell was it going to do when ingested?

Oh god, she was going to die.

A final shot was poured and put in the centre of the table, the empty bottle handed to Flash so that he could smell it to make sure it was real, by the way he scrunched his nose, it seemed he was pretty damn sure it was.

Well, it was either Trinski or rocket fuel. Either way, this was not going to be pleasant.

Sophie let out a long breath as Jones spoke again.
"Right, basic rules, finish your own shots first. The first one to grab and drink the one in the middle wins. Pass out or throw up, you're disqualified. Deal?" Sophie nodded and flashed a reassuring grin, her bravado the only thing stopping her from turning on her heel and sprinting out of the door at this point. If you couldn't grin in the face of certain death what could you do?

She nodded briefly to Anoushka and they both picked up their first glass, both waiting for the other to signal the start. Worried she might lose her nerve, Sophie broke the silence.
"...Cheers." She couldn't help the, barely restrained, worry on her face as she raised the first glass to her lips.

Holy mother of hell! That hurt!

Shit. Shit. Shit Shit Shitshitshit.

Coughing, she slammed the glass down, rim first, on the table, filling the silent room with the loud bang even as Anoushka threw her own into a corner somewhere, causing a first year off in the distance to scream in fright.

At least she was having trouble too.

A vigorous shake of her head and she, just about, managed to open her watering eyes. This was going to kill her. Still, she was being watched. A glance to her audience revealed a delightful mix of sympathetic, amused and worried looks being sent her way.

Though, if she was honest, she doubted their worry had anything to do with her health.

Letting out a deep breath she glanced to Anoushka, who was on her third shot. She was going to have to do this as fast as possible and pray it stayed down. It was the only way to win. Carefully, she tightened all the muscles in her stomach, focusing on holding them that way as she reached for the next shot.

Three.

Two.

One.

Go.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

One by one she threw them back, not letting her attention slip from her stomach muscles for longer than it took to find the next glass. It was this way that she powered through them, not letting a single drop rest on her tongue for more than a fraction of a second and trying very hard not to focus on the, ever growing, burn in her stomach and throat. She was in for hell later. Each glass was slammed down, one beside the other in an upside down mimic of the line they had been sat in.

SIX!

Before she even knew what was going on (maybe the drink was going to her head already) she brought her last glass down so hard she cracked it. Her eyes darting to the one in the middle. Anoushka still had two to do.

It was hers.

With a, slightly lopsided, grin, she stood up, sweeping down an arm to take the final shot and throw it back. Her mouth was pretty much numb, her legs were uncertain and her stomach was an ocean in a storm but she'd won. Now she just had to get out of here before she pitched over sideways.

There was some clapping; a lot of money exchanging hands as bets were clearly won and lost. She spun on the spot to face Flash and Jones but was startled as she found the girl's gaze still fixed upon her.

Wow, she's pretty.

Okay, time to go. Very aware of her rapidly fading mind, she turned to Anoushka, finding her passed out on the floor. That couldn't be good. She would be going the same way eventually, so with that in mind, she flashed one last grin in Jones' general direction and took off, focusing all her might on keeping her pace regular and straight. She just needed to get around that stack of boxes, out of sight, so she could fall apart in peace. She kept walking, desperately needing privacy. Her stomach rolled dangerously and she grit her teeth against the feeling of her tongue being forced up against the roof of her mouth. Vomiting was pretty much her best option right now, before too much of the poison she'd just chugged made it into her system. She was already doomed to the mother of all hangovers, but if she could get it back up, she could avoid the ER. She just needed to find somewhere to… Ah! An open crate sat just around the next corner, completely empty. Relief washed over her and she practically fell into it. It didn't take much, she barely even got a chance to take a breath before the entire content of her stomach reappeared. She kept herself as quiet as possible, aware of the potential echo in the cavernous room. Fortunately, she was oddly practised in the art of subtle vomiting (years of sneaking whiskey into military schools), so she fell back on old habits and was eternally grateful that she no longer wore her hair long.

Once that was taken care of, she jammed the lid back onto the crate to hide the smell and quickly fished around her pockets for gum. She always carried some with her, so after chewing a few pieces, she felt a little better. Drunk as fuck, and she would not be conscious for much longer, but she'd live. For now, she opted to try for the dorms. Preferably before the world spun any faster.

Ugh, she was actually going to be dead tomorrow. At least she'd be back in everyone's good graces; maybe they'd attend her funeral. With a smirk at her own joke, she started forwards, only to discover that not only had to world decided to start spinning, but it was now also tipping quite violently.

Not good.

Whether she said that out loud or not was a mystery, but she managed to stagger over to a wall and lean against it. Maybe she'd just wait here a minute, until her head stopped feeling like a spinning top.

Her concentration was broken by a voice nearby, a man. Who was that? Flash? Yeah, the tacky guy... He sounded pretty flustered about something. She listened for a minute and then snorted out a laugh. He was asking someone out! Biting her lip in suspense, she waited for the person to reply. Please be the chav girl or something, watching her hand his ass to him would be so much fun.

Her mouth dropped open as her thoughts were stunned into silence. It was the Head Girl who answered.

Turning him down.

She felt a swell of happiness as she listened to Jones' harsh words.

Why the hell did that make her happy? So she wasn't dating the loser, big deal. If anything, that was bad. Less blackmail. Head in the game, Daniels.

A scowl dragged itself over her face at her own thoughts but seconds later, heels on the concrete floor were drawing closer and she couldn't restrain a, slightly maniacal, chuckle when the Head Girl got close enough to hear her.

Apparently her brain had disengaged from her mouth.

"Looks like you have an admirer." She grinned as she heard the sing-song tone of her own voice.
Kelly and Flash, sitting in a tree~
She should definitely sing that some time.
The girl's head whipped around, surprise clear on her face and concern almost clear enough for even her pickled mind to pick up on.

Amused by her own joke, Sophie staggered away from the wall, running her hand through her hair.
"Don't worry, I keep things to m'self. But you do owe me one after tonight, big time." She attempted to flash a wolfish grin but, honestly, she wasn't sure it lived up to standards, particularly as she spun on her heel to walk away, turned too far, tipped dramatically and went tumbling headfirst... In the wrong direction.

All too suddenly the floor was coming toward her really very quickly. She barely had time to register a quiet laugh from somewhere around her as an arm appeared around her waist, holding her up.
"I do owe you one; let's get you upstairs before you do any damage." A stern frown in place, Jones yanked her arm across her shoulders and kept her other hand securely on her waist, all but carrying her through the school.

Apparently her legs had clocked off early tonight, as more than once or twice Sophie had to fully rely on the Head Girl to hold her up.

Who knew the wiry woman would be strong enough for this shit?

Her hazy thoughts were getting fewer and further between as they made it higher and higher into the school. Drowsiness was setting in fast and eventually she gave up completely, letting her head drop to rest against Jones' shoulder.

After only a second, she was jarred alert as she realised the exact location of the girl's hand on her waist and the close press of their sides together. A cold shudder flowed through her and she staggered to a stop, pulling herself free and into a wall. Her back hit with a heavy thump and she huffed as it knocked some of the air from her lungs.

Jones stopped and looked at her curiously.
"Bathroom's next on the right if you're going to lose your dinner." She eyed her warily but Sophie shook her head.
"I'm good. Jus'… I can carry m'self." She held up her hands but Jones frowned, stepping forward.
"Stop arsing about, come on, we need to get you to bed." She reached out to take her arm again and Sophie flinched violently, cursing internally, and maybe externally too going on the girl's clear confusion.
"Look, we've got to get you out of the hallway. And there's no way in hell you can walk yourself." She rolled her eyes and stuck her hands on her hips, drawing to her full height. Sophie bit her lip, she was very much aware of how irrational she was being without this chick's assistance, thank you very much.

Something unexpected then happened.

Jones deflated, letting out a long sigh.
"Look, Daniels…" She stepped forward again but kept a good couple feet between them, only standing close enough to lower her voice as she crouched slightly, meeting her gaze.
"I don't like you, and I sure as hell don't trust you, but your Aunt's made you a St. Trinian and that makes it my job to get you safe to bed. Got it?" Her tone was almost gentle, the soft look on her face unsettling, but more than that, the pure honesty and duty in her eyes was… astonishing. She was so dumbfounded that she let the older girl take hold of her arm and pull it back over her shoulders.

Eventually they made it back to the dorms, where Jones let Sophie drop down onto her bed with an odd sort of giggle, the last few feet had suddenly become hilarious as Sophie realised the Head Girl of St. Trinian's was all but carrying her to bed. The idea was bizarre on its own without the look of intense exasperation on the older girl's face.

Afore mentioned Head Girl wandered over to one of the shelves against the wall and started looking for something while Sophie got herself changed, even completely off her face she wouldn't ask for help with that. She had some dignity left…

Sort of.

By the time Jones returned Sophie was struggling to get under the covers in her shorts and t-shirt, both black, of course.

A small bottle was placed onto her bedside table and the girl told her to drink it in the morning. Apparently it would help her avoid the pain of her hangover a tiny bit. Sophie nodded gratefully, feeling herself already slipping into sleep as she looked up at the other girl. She was annoyingly beautiful, why did she have to be that beautiful? She heard someone say 'damn it' just as she drifted off, it didn't occur to her that it was her own voice.


She's a mess, isn't she? Got to love a good train-wreck. Hope to see you all next time - J