11/16 Instance: Convenience Friends

[tears~fall~like~glass]

timeline: after Shaving the Best for Last


Rachel: Rachel was heavily leaning against the wall, cigarette in hand despite the fact she was indoors. However, she wasn't sure she could walk and take a drag at the same time, so she paused, missing her mouth on the first attempt. Maybe she shouldn't have had so much to drink... Or maybe she should've had more...

Pietro: The voice started far away but approached rapidly, "Raaaaaaaaaaacheeeeeeeeeeeel!!" The hug was surprisingly gentle given the speed he'd approached by - he'd had practice.

Rachel: Regardless of the speed, Rachel flailed but somehow managed to keep a hold of the cigarette without burning either of them. She found this especially impressive after she'd thrown her arms around Pietro to return the hug, "Yooooou!"

Pietro: "You're back and not in a cell! That's awesome!" He let her go and looked her over, "And you're wasted!"

Rachel: Once he let go, she grabbed a shoulder to keep herself upright, looked down at the cigarette in her other hand, took a long drag, and gave a shrug before stubbing it out against the wall. Not exactly sure what to do with the butt, she gave it a home in a nearby potted plant and latched onto his other shoulder, nodding, "I am! It's fantastic!"

Pietro: He laughed, "It's so good to see you!" he eyed the haircut and raised an eyebrow.

Rachel: Rachel snorted, "Not many people say that."

Pietro: "Well that's because they're dumbasses and they don't know how fun you are." He told her with a sagely nod.

Rachel: "Speaking of fun..." Rachel started with a grin, "We should have drinks."

Pietro: "I... think you've had enough. If you let go of me will you stay upright?"

Rachel: She eyed him, looked down to the floor, and back up to him, "I... don't know...?"

Pietro: "Then I think, out of responsibility, I should cut you off for now... but we can definitely do drinks some other time... like before the babies are born because after that I'll be crazy."

Rachel: "Yeah... I suppose you shouldn't drink afterward to celebrate. It could end disastrously." She pulled a hand away to raked it through her hair, making a face at the buzzed part, "What should we do instead?"

Pietro: "Hmm..." He thought hard about it, tapping his finger on his chin. "Guitar hero?"

Rachel: "You're going to kill me because I'm too drunk to put up a real challenge, but fiiiine."

Pietro: "It's funny that you think you could beat me anyway," he laughed, offering his arm, "But if you're too drunk to drop ice cream down my back this time I don't think I'll complain."

Rachel: Rachel accepted the arm, leaning against him as they made their way back toward the rec room. "I'm not entirely sure I can handle more ice cream. I feel like it's all I've eaten since I've gotten out of prison."

Pietro: "That's not a good diet you know, very fattening." He poked her stomach, "Think you can handle some real food?"

Rachel: She squirmed and giggled at the poke, "I've never been fat, and I doubt I ever will be. Plus, if it was good for you, I highly doubt people would gorge themselves on it after crying because it wouldn't taste as awesome."

Rachel: As for the idea of real food, she automatically answered, "I could totally go for tacos... or nachos..."

Pietro: "Food that's good for you can taste awesome!" He protested, "I'm going to prove it... not with tacos or nachos." He shook his head, "Terrible..."

Rachel: "What's so terrible about tacos and nachos?" Rachel protested with a pout.

Pietro: "They're not good for you! You're skin and bones, you need nutritious food!" He steered her towards the kitchen. "Doesn't anyone here take care of you?"

Rachel: Dropping into the seat she was led to, she rolled her eyes, "Fatherhood should suit you because you totally sound like my dad."

Rachel: After a moment of staring at the surface, Rachel tapped her fingers against it with a frown as she considered the question. She swayed a little, despite having sat down, and gave a shrug as she grumbled, "I suppose that's what I had a husband for."

Pietro: He grinned over his shoulder at her as he went to the fridge, "You do remember Emma, right? The crazy woman that runs my house? I used to live on takeouts until she put the fear of God in me." He sighed a little at the next part, setting things on the counter, "I'm sorry..."

Rachel: "Vaguely, at the moment," she nodded, waving off the apology, "Pfft, Josh and I totally lived on take-out. His cooking skills weren't that much better than mine. Plus, I kept busy. ...And, I guess I also have Bobby. Oh, and Rogue. Rogue partakes in my ice cream binging. In fact, she can eat more ice cream than me."

Rachel: Now she was rambling, but she didn't really care. Rambling was better than moping, which was why she'd been drinking in the first place. It wasn't a particularly healthy way to cope, but fuck healthy ways after the day she'd had.

Pietro: "Well I can eat way more than anybody so we can gorge on healthy tasty food." He tossed some things into the pan for a stir fry. "And Rogue knows how to cook, make her cook for you."

Rachel: "But I don't want to make her cook for me... Not all the time..." Rachel made a face, "Plus, cooking means waiting, and I'm not sure if you knew this buuut... I'm not a patient person."

Pietro: "Well that's the beauty of befriending me. I hate waiting more than anyone." he threw her another grin, "Also, I don't know whether you noticed... but you have to wait for fast food too."

Rachel: "But not as long. Hence fast," she grinned back, a bit surprised she could still manage some logic.

Pietro: "But in the time it takes you to drive down to the place and get the food you could have cooked this..." he gestured at the stir fry which was indeed just about done. "And delivery places make you wait too."

Rachel: "You mean I could have set the house on fire."

Pietro: "... Well that's always an option but worse things have happened..." he gave a shrug, tipping the food onto two plates and setting one in front of her.

Rachel: "True... I could end up setting myself on fire..."

Pietro: He blinked at her then laughed again, "There's that too." he set the knife and fork down beside the plate, "Now eat up."

Rachel: "That would be tragic," she decided as she picked up the fork and attempted to spear a vegetable.

Pietro: "It would. There's no replacing you... or your interesting style choices." he gestured to her new haircut with the end of his fork.

Rachel: Rachel brought a hand up to her head where he was gesturing. Oh, right. "Yeah... I got pranked."

Pietro: "Someone shaved you in your sleep?"

Rachel: "Not exactly, no," she shook her head and took a bite. "Webbing in my hairspray."

Pietro: He wrinkled his nose, "Ew... That's just... I don't even know. I hope you got whoever it was back."

Rachel: "Oh, I'm going to," Rachel smirked widely, "Just have to finalize plans with Rogue."

Pietro: He laughed, "Well great. Get 'em good."

Rachel: "I definitely will," she assured him. "Obviously I've gotten out of prison. What have you been up to?"

Pietro: "Mostly? Working... and when I'm not working I'm getting the house ready for the babies. They're due any time now really... actual dates not for a couple of weeks but twins usually come early...."

Rachel: "I feel old. Everyone I know is having a baby..." she made another face, adding as an afterthought, "Or two..."

Pietro: He laughed, "I don't feel old and I'm one of the ones having a baby or two. Maybe it's just that you're hungry."

Rachel: "Oh yeah... I do have food..." she went for another bite, shaking her head, "You know, we may never make it to Guitar Hero at this rate..."

Pietro: "Well that's okay, I'll be around tomorrow and the next day and the day after that... assuming Illyana keeps kicky and sleepy in there."

Rachel: Rachel paused as realization dawned on her, "...I am going to be so hungover tomorrow... later... Is it technically tomorrow now?"

Pietro: "Uh... I don't know... how long have you been awake?" He raised an eyebrow, "Am I going to have to send you to your room too?"

Rachel: She opened her mouth and closed it. Shit... How long had she been awake? She settled for taking another bite and shrugging instead. "I think I'd rather crash on the couch."

Pietro: He frowned, "You probably won't get a lot of sleep that way..."

Rachel: "I'll get enough."

Pietro: He sighed, not really happy about it. "If you say so..."

Rachel: Worrying her lip, Rachel glanced over to him and sighed herself. "All his stuff is in our... my room. It's just easier to..." Avoid it, depending on her mood. "...stay on the couch."

Pietro: "I'm sure there's a spare room somewhere you can use until you're ready to deal with all of that. You should sleep in a bed, Rachel..."

Rachel: "I can deal with it just fine... I'm just drunk and mopey right now. ...And, damnit, that's what I was trying to avoid," Rachel frowned. "Beds are for the weak."

Pietro: "If you're going to take that view, so are sofas. We should put you in a cupboard then you can fall on someone later after you've gone to sleep against the door."

Rachel: The smirk returned to her face, "You shouldn't tempt me."

Pietro: He grinned, "Hey, just because I'm about to be a dad, doesn't mean I'm not still silly."

Rachel: Rachel quickly twisted around in her chair and had to brace herself on the table to stay upright. "...I suppose the pantry would be the best choice."

Pietro: He laughed, "I'll help you there... but if anyone asks, I was not involved. I have a feeling Illyana would teleport me to a glacier if she found out..."

Rachel: "You're assuming I'll remember our entire conversation," she grinned, unsteadily getting to her feet.

Pietro: "Ah alcohol... provider of convenient blackouts...." he grinned and shook his head, securing an arm around her to help her to the pantry.

Rachel: "I've never been so glad that I'm so fucking skinny," Rachel mumbled as she attempted to get comfortable on a shelf. If only she was a few inches shorted. That'd make this even easier.

Rachel: Finally settling into a somewhat acceptable position, she vaguely wondered how the hell Harry Potter managed to live in a fucking cupboard.

Pietro: Pietro laughed, "Have a nice nap, Rachel. I'll see you later.... whatever you do, don't roll over."