Her eyes reflected the golden glory running down her throat, the bubbly river of alcohol that burned not only the tissue it touched but also all the things she kept hidden inside her. The drink was liberating and the rush ever so necessary. It had been a horrible day and she didn't want to dwell or ponder on the days events. Her tender pink lips were still stuck to the rim of the glass. She wasn't sure if she was already feeling the effect of the drink she had earlier or if she was being deceived by the setting, the lights, and the company. She was lost in the buzz, either real or made up, that she didn't notice Patterson. The smart white girl was tentatively analyzing her and she was waiting for her to say something, anything. Her mouth was getting dry, so her hand went up and the bartender asked her what she wanted.
"Is it not clear?" Tasha asked, her judging eyes glancing at the young man. "Another bourbon… No, no, no, make that two. Two bourbons, and cut the ice." Patterson hid her face until the bartender walked away. "What?" Tasha turned over to look at Patterson.
"You didn't have to be so mean." Patterson massaged her neck with her hands. "He's just trying to do his job." Tasha's face furrowed, Patterson was defending the bartender.
Tasha pulled her hair back and tied it with the black hair tie from her wrist. After fixing her dark brown hair into a beyond messy ponytail, she went ahead took the drink that was in front of her. "I know. I've just had a bad day." Patterson shook her head.
She didn't want to bring it up again, but she felt like she had too. "Was it because of the case?" She saw as Tasha's lip began to quiver. "Tasha, did you-"
"Stop." Tasha interrupted her, she sounded defensive. "I don't want to talk about it, Patterson. You don't get it. You'd never get it. You don't know what it's like to have no choice or say when it comes to this. You've pro-" She stopped herself, a little late, but she retained herself from saying anything more. Her pretty mouth was shut, and Patterson's was wide opened.
Patterson bit one side of her lip, her teeth threatening to pierce a hole. She grabbed the drink next to Tasha's and gulped half of it down. "Okay, I get it." She grasped on to her drink tighter, "I'm not going to force you to talk about something that you don't want to." Patterson noticed as Tasha glanced her way. The relief on her face was a sight to see, her face wasn't contorted and she didn't give off that tense vibe. "Just," Patterson knew she shouldn't have said anything else because Tasha was already rolling her eyes. "know that you can talk to me. We're family, remember?"
She didn't know what to say, Patterson was being so kind and offering her a vehicle to which export all her feelings and words, and she was being rude or a jerk about it. Tasha took the drink in her hand again, took a few gulps and thanked her.
As they finished their third drink, or at least the ones that they had shared together, Patterson noticed that Tasha was much more relaxed and that the alcohol was finally doing its job. Tasha kept swaying back and forth in her seat, the biggest smile on her face. "You having fun there?"
"Yes," Tasha answered, her voice sounding so soothing and pleasant. "I think this song is my new favorite song. It just has some good tunes."
Patterson did her best not to laugh because her intuition told her Tasha was being serious, "This is a commercial."
"You're right." Tasha seemed a little frightened by the idea that she was getting down to a commercial. Patterson nodded, of course, she was right. She was always right. "Well..." She started but never finished. Instead, she grabbed her drink and called the bartender for more. She wasn't so sure she wanted another bourbon or margarita, but she knew that if she ordered something else, she would be mezclando sus bebidas ((mixing her drinks)) and therefore have one of the worst hangovers of her life. "A tequila, please."
The bartender looked at Patterson, "And, for you?"
She glanced at her coworker, her body moving side to side on the chair, she looked to be having fun in her own drunken way. They hadn't decided earlier who would be the adult and sit out after three drinks, and since Tasha was already past her fourth drink and seemed to have gone through an even more emotional straining day at work, she decided to sit out on another drink. "Do you guys have any food?"
"Yeah," He grabbed a menu and handed it to Patterson, "Call me over when you're ready."
"You're calling it quits already?" Tasha swung her whole seat over just to look at Patterson. "Does that mean I can get drunk off my ass?"
Patterson's head moved a little back, "Just don't over do it, remember we have that meeting at noon tomorrow."
Tasha shook her head, "No we don't. We don't go in this Saturday, Patterson."
Patterson laughed, "I mean the meeting that we're not supposed to have?" Tasha seemed so confused, Patterson thought it was adorable, though. The way Tasha seemed to be lost and have no idea what she was talking about. In her expression, she looked scared even. "Tash, the one with Reade, you and me. We decided to meet up for lunch at my place to discuss...mmmhhhmmhhh" Patterson hummed the last part, knowing not to talk about those documents in public nor in the office.
Tasha laughed, "You mean-" Patterson got up quick to cover Tasha's mouth, her hand over her face. Tasha begged her to stop, with her eyes, and she kept on mumbling to Patterson's hand, her soft warm hand. Patterson finally lets go. "I was just going to say the one were not allowed to talk about at all." Tasha's eyes were looking right into Patterson's, they were filled with fury.
Patterson went back to her seat, "Sorry, Tash." Tasha was glaring at her, and instead of saying anything else she picked up the menu and submerged herself into it, in hope that it would reduce the guilt and glare that her fellow FBI agent was giving her. Patterson though wanted to concentrate on the appetizing chili fries, her mind couldn't help but think about how sexy Tasha looked when mad. It's just Tasha, mad, yeah, maybe a little angry, but why do I think it's so hot?
The bartender came back, and Tasha was flirting, "Thanks, Diego." Ohh my god, not again. "I guess I'm just going to have leave a big tip." He laughed and nodded, I guess it was sort of routine to him.
"You need a little more time?" Patterson glanced up from the menu.
"No, I think I'll have the fries and the small mild wings, please and thank you."
Tasha basically ate all of Patterson's fries, but Patterson refrained herself from saying anything. Tasha ordered two more drinks and eventually their friend, Diego, did not feel comfortable selling Tasha another drink. Patterson didn't blame him, she was, in fact, being a lousy drunk. When it was time to go, Patterson had some trouble getting Tasha to leave, but when she finally got her on her feet the bartender gave Patterson the bill. Patterson was confused on why she was charged one hundred and seven dollars with fifty-three cents. Diego said Tasha's card wasn't going through. Patterson sighed and then continued to pay the fee.
On the way to the cab, she kept touching Tasha's waist to keep her in place, and from straying away. It wasn't awkward being this close to her coworker, it was just different. She looked down to check on the shorter woman who made herself comfortable on her shoulder. Aww, Tash. Eventually, they made it to the cab. Tasha went in first, and then Patterson. Tasha didn't bother to put on a seat belt so that eventually became Patterson's job. "You have to put it on, Tasha."
Tasha only shrugged Patterson's comment off and put her hands on her stomach, "I, I don't feel well, Pat- Pat." Patterson quickly gave the address to Tasha's place and searched for Tasha's keys in her pockets. "You feeling me?" Tasha commented as Patterson stuck her hand in each of her pockets. Patterson smirked, and continued to search for her keys in her blazer. "They're in my back pocket." Tasha grinned.
"Then you get them." Patterson suggested, glancing at Tasha's gluteus maximus. In hope that she wouldn't make another comment like before.
Eventually, Tasha got the keys to Patterson, without any help. Their car ride was then after in silence, Tasha's hands on her stomach, but Patterson had gone through this enough times to know what it was. Every time that Tasha got really drunk and needed to use the bathroom she would start putting her hands on her stomach. Eventually, the cab left them in Tasha's apartment.
It took them a while to get to Tasha's place, the stairs really were the only cause of their delay. "I really have to go." Tasha kept mumbling into Patterson's ear, her soft warm breath hitting her neck. "Patterson, are you listening?" The drunken woman shouted in hope that her friend would say something.
"Yes, but would you mind lowering it down a little, you're going to wake up your neighbors."
"I don't really care." Tasha said louder. Patterson shook her head and exhaled in relief to see Tasha's door. She opened it quick with the jingling keys and noticed as Tasha purposefully hit the floor. She crawled to the bathroom nearby and shut the door loudly. Patterson took a seat on the couch, the way up there left her tired, too many stairs.
She looked around, Tasha's place look like it did last time, organized and clean, something she knew her place would never be. Being there before, she knew Tasha was good at hiding her stuff, her room being the messiest and closet even worse. Patterson had been there plenty of times, she knew where most things were by now, and where Tasha hid the good stuff. Patterson put her feet on the coffee table and waited for the door to open, but nothing. There was only an endless amount of flushing, but no sign of Tasha exiting the bathroom. "Tasha," Patterson said as she got up, "are you okay?" There wasn't any response, just another flush. "Hey." She knocked on the door, "You okay?"
"No." She barely heard through the door. Patterson opened the door a little and saw Tasha face down into the toilet bowl. She rushed to her side and the woman with the teary eyes glanced up to look at her. "You did this to me." She accused in a weak slumber.
Patterson lifted her shoulders up, "Me? You're the one who stole my fries."
"Yes, you." If you hadn't bought those fries for me, this wouldn't be happening." So she continued to puke into the toilet bowl. Patterson rushed over to hold Tasha's hair, but it was already in a ponytail from earlier in the night. Instead, she rubbed her back softly and watched as the woman below her puked continued to puke. "Are you going to stay the night?" Tasha asked as she grabbed the towel from the rack to clean her mouth.
"Of course, I'm not going to let you drown in your vomit if that's what you're worried about." Patterson flushed the vomit down, trying not to look at it much. Tasha grabbed Patterson's arm to pull herself up from the floor. It was then that Patterson noticed that Tasha's pants were undone and that she had some navy blue underwear. Tasha laughed as she washed her hands, looking at Patterson from the mirror. "What now?"
"Are you going to stay?" Tasha then grabbed her toothbrush and proceeded to take away the taste of vomit from her mouth.
"Yes, I already told you I would." Patterson quickly glanced at Tasha's visible underwear, but only for a second, so it technically didn't count. "The real question here is if you can zip and button up those pants."
Tasha spit into the sink, "What pants?"
"The ones you're wearing." Is she really this drunk? Patterson then proceeded to point at Tasha's pants. Tasha got the zipper up but was having trouble with the button at the very top. "You need some help?" Patterson nonchalantly offered.
Tasha shrugged, but then said: "No, no. It's fine." Tasha opened the door and Patterson followed her out. "I don't think they'll fall." She got to the couch but missed it completely. Fuck.
"You okay?" Patterson rushed to her side, once more. Tasha it seemed couldn't get up anymore, "You want to stay on the floor a little longer?" Tasha nodded accommodating herself the floor and Patterson. Patterson felt as Tasha placed the weight of her head on Patterson's thigh. "Ohh, okay." It was strange. Not having her head on her thigh, but Tasha doing so. She usually wasn't as touchy. She had no idea what she was doing or why she was doing it, but strangely enough, Patterson knew she didn't mind it. She grasped Patterson's hand, and she still didn't mind. With her free hand, she moved her fingers in a slow soothing motion, massaging Tasha's head. She wanted to run them down her dark curly, but she knew would have been a mess.
"You want to know something sad," She heard Tasha say, "I don't think I can remember the last time I went more than a day without being sad." The confession was a little heartbreaking and she felt like she could also relate.
Patterson stuttered, "Me too..." Tasha moved slightly, finally facing Patterson. Her blue eyes didn't seem to be so blue in the darkness of her house, but she could tell that Patterson was doing that thing again, the whole looking at her with concern and worry. "Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
Tasha smiled, "Like you're worried, or like you actually care. Like you want to know what's wrong. You look at me like a lost puppy." Patterson could tell Tasha was getting frustrated, "You look at me with pity." She could tell, by the tone of her voice that she was mad, but at last, she was letting all her emotions out. "I don't do that with you."
Patterson shook her head, "Maybe I do look at you with concern or something else, but not pity." Her thumb began to softly caress her temple, and slowly moved down to her jawline. Tasha felt her smooth fingers traced her face. Tasha still holding on to Patterson's hand gave it a squeeze and then with her other hand carefully traced it with her fingers. Patterson knew what she was doing, but she wasn't sure Tasha did. After all, she had just been puking her guts out into the toilet. She didn't know if Tasha was there or Tasha plus the alcohol. "Tash, I think you need to get some sleep."
"No." She begged as she cupped Patterson's face.
Patterson gulped hard, afraid that Tasha might have heard it also. "Tasha..." She put her hand over Tasha's, pulling it off, taking her affection away. But Tasha pulled her in close, their faces only a few centimeter away. Patterson was fighting the temptation away and liberated herself from Tasha's grip. "It's my fault, but I don't think we should do this right now. You're drunk, I don't want to make you do something you don't want to."
She groaned, and whispered, "Fine," more to herself, than to Patterson.
Tasha got up from, leaving a cool breeze fill where Tasha's body once was. The absence of Tasha made a chill run through Patterson. Everything happened so quickly all Patterson could think of was ask Tasha to talk about it for breakfast. "Okay." She heard Tasha through her teeth, "Night." She sounded so cold. Tasha was the worse at hiding her emotions, and through her words were filled with disdain, Patterson knew not to take them too seriously. Patterson saw as Tasha disappeared into the darkness, and something inside her made her think about what just happened and whether or not she had made the right choice. The door slamming answered her question.
AN: Let me know what you think.