drink, my buddy -- Elliot

[nate]

"I seriously doubt you've never lied to me," Nate drawled. He raised his eyebrows at her, smiling ruefully. "People cannot exist without lying to each other, it's a horrible fact of life."

Nate's hands again went to his glass, as though he were unwilling to completely part with it. Sighing, he drummed his fingers along it.

"Oh, please don't vomit," Nate winced. He hadn't missed her hand go to her stomach, and could read between the lines well enough. Something was going on in there, and he didn't particularly want to think that the mouth he might soon be kissing would have chunks of partially digested food flying from it.

"The last thing I want to do tonight is hold your hair while you vomit into a toilet," he informed her. he acted as though those words meant nothing, soldiering on in the conversation. "I will definitely have to take you with me to Milan again. I learned from the first trip. Last time I went to Japan, and made certain to be properly prepared."

He smirked confidently as if that trip had turned out more successfully than it actually had.

Details, none of which Elliot really needs to know.

[Elliot is on the edge.]

"Maybe that's what's so odd about us," Elliot smiled, looking nothing short of feline. "I don't feel the need to lie to you." Her drink was starting to settle, and the girl knew that soon she would have to make the decision; dive in to a bottle head first or bow out and sober. Always one for temptation, the pretty blonde pondered for only a second before agreeing to the best course of action.

Raising her hand to flag down a refill, she felt her stomach knot again and with a grimace, she waved off the bartender just a second later. Another healthy dose of Gin would have to wait it seemed. She wasn't going to throw-up, as Nate had first feared, but the thick air of the club and the temptation of liquid poison certainly wasn't helping things. Stepping away from the counter, Elliot looked over at her friend with a clearly apologetic smile.

"Let's get some air?" Her eyes were pleading as she looked over Nate's shoulder toward a covered porch in the back of the club. There or out front would suit the girl just fine, as long as there was a breeze. "And then we can talk about Milan." Winking to the best of her ability given the current uncomfortable state of her insides, Elliot reached over and took Nate's hand, never bothering to ask as she waited for him to lead her toward a door.

[nate]

We're beyond the stage of lieing to each other, thankfully. It's one of the best things about this "relationship." Though I have to wonder if we ever really had that stage. I think we just leaped over it, preferring a different foundation to build upon.

And I'm beginning to sound entirely too philosophical for my own good. I need to get my brains f**ked out already.

"Air's always good," Nate agreed. He tossed a few bills at the bartender, knowing that someone had to compensate for all they'd been putting down. He got close enough to appease the bartender, who favored the young man with a smile. Doubtless he enjoyed seeing someone awkward with someone beautiful.

Everybody loves an underdog.

The cool night air rushed over them as they stepped outside, and it certainly refreshed Nate, and he hoped it did that for Elliot. He looked over at her, attempting to fight the concern on his face. Their relationship didn't really involve such an emotion. Still, no matter where you put them, Nate and Elliot were close enough that he genuinely wanted her to be comfortable. If that meant having to hold her hair while she vomited...

Gah, friendship sucks. I'm certainly glad Elliot's worth it. Most people simply aren't.

"Take deep breaths," He advised, looking around. "Steady yourself and enjoy this air."

He smirked slightly, knowing full well that she would have done that without his expert advice.

[Elliot is on the edge.]

A breeze washed over them as the stepped outside, and Elliot did feel an immediate bit of relief, but not a total one. Her hand was still clasped in Nate's, and she made no mention about moving it, still feeling a bit dizzy.

From somewhere, the faint and stale smell of a cigarette reached them, and for once instinctive moment, Elliot wanted one for herself. A habitual smoker once upon a time, the blonde hadn't touched a cancer stick for months after Eiji took one out of her hand that first night. But that night was so far in the past she sometimes wondered if it had happened at all, and Europe had caused her to pick up the habit here and there again. But knowing that a smoke would probably only make her feel more ill, the girl turned to Nate for a distraction, bumping his hip with hers.

"Can we go to Madrid too?"
Her smile came easy, a mixture of comfort and confusion that suited her so well in Nate's company. He was one of her truest friends not just because of the affection she held for him, but because all the others were friends without the initial choice. The friend who dealt her painkillers and cheap wine, the friend who required civility because they sometimes dated boys who were friends, the friend who had been around so long that she couldn't possibly shake him, the friend who crushed her but she still couldn't bare to completely part from; the friend because.

Nate had been a conscious decision every step of the way, and she felt that despite how complicated things were between them sometimes, it was still so easy to be with him, and that was the one thing that hadn't changed.

[nate]

Now you have me wondering what's going on in your mind, Elliot. What thoughts you're thinking about me. Unfortunately, you're the assertive one. Even now, I can't say that. Bah, I can barely smell cigarette smoke and cheap booze. Disgusting, both of them.

Nate took another deep breath, attempting to ignore the underlying smells. Most of them simply disturbed him, unsettling his mental calm. Even the ones that might work with it weren't wanted at the moment.

His eyes drifted toward Elliot, or she attracted them.

Never can tell with her.

"Not in the least bit demanding, are you?" he said, arching a brow. He chuckled ruefully, shaking his head. "I'm sure we could do Madrid at some point. Most likely not in the same day. Unless you figure out how to stop time for both of us."

Now there was an interesting prospect. Manipulating the flow of time in such a way that two people were temporarily removed from its effects. It appealed to Nate, wanting to get away from the rest of the cesspool that was humanity. Though he doubted Elliot had enough skill to attempt something of that nature just yet.

Thinking about it never hurt anyone though.

"For now, I think we'll have to settle for the Academy," he said. His eyes went to the street, and he seemed to be silently asking Elliot how she felt traveling.

[Elliot is on the edge.]

"Hey, there was a question mark at the end of my sentance." Elliot defended herself, still wearing those arresting eyes. "And if you don't believe me, just as my writer." She shifted her weight from to the opposite foot, feeling a bit fatigued all of a sudden, like the slow IV of cheap liquor she had been plugged into all day was beginning to turn on her, determined to bring her down and make her sluggish.

"Oh baby," she leaned closer to Nate, her side brushing against his as her voice dropped just a bit. "You know I'd freeze time for you, anytime." Hardly able to contain the giggles through the entire cheesy mock-up, Elliot pulled back a bit and forced her laughter into a glowing smile instead.

"I've been home hardly a month, and I already hate this bloody Academy again." Letting out a low, strangely melancholy breath despite her very recent expression of joy, Elliot gave Nate's hand a gentle squeeze before jerking her head in the direction of the road before them.

"Well, shall we?"

[nate]

"The question mark only makes it a polite demand," drawled Nate. Still, he smiled indulgently.

A few hours with her and I'm already prepared to dart off to Spain. Then again, I'd do just about anything to impress a girl. I've got some serious issues.

"That," Nate looked at Elliot as she laid the time line on him, arching his eyebrows, "was horrible. Though at least it was well played."

He chuckled a little, giving her hand a slight squeeze as she squeezed him. He drew his eyes to their linked hands, again marveling at that. It felt so natural though that he really couldn't see it otherwise.

"There's a lot about the bloody Academy to hate," he agreed. He began walking now, dragging her along with him. Despite the growing want within him, he kept a slow pace, almost leisurely. After all, he'd already gotten what he'd wanted.

"The lessons, the current location," Nate crinkled up his nose, "I seriously cannot believe we're stuck in the Midwest. Whoever's in charge of the Academy must be laughing hysterically at that fine little joke. Anyway," he took a deep breath before continuing, "there's also the lessons and most of the people. But there are a few, just a few now, worth considering. Almost makes it worth being here."

Nate looked skyward, frowning slightly, "Almost."

[Elliot is on the edge.]

"Don't even get me started on this fucking place." Elliot waved her hand around at the surroundings as they began to walk, obviously referring to Missouri, or maybe even America in general. "I just flew back from Italian wine, French fashion and Spanish sun, to land in an airport with a fucking Wal-Mart in it." Though she hadn't necessarily been born into a station of class, Elliot Davis, unlike her sister, was certainly not a front row fan of America. God bless the poor girl, but she was English to the core and had never been able to properly explain herself in this sort of climate.

Despite the general rise in temperature that came with drinking a whole cartload of Martini's throughout the day, Elliot's paper-thin satin dress did little to brace her against the cold November air, and she found herself biting back a shiver.

"Life is too short for 'almost', darling." Grinning in spite of herself, the leggy blond gave Nate's hand a squeeze, goosebumps rising all over her bare skin as they walked on. She was having trouble walking in her heels, and her head felt light, as if it might swim off from her shoulders and disappear into the clouds above.

"How's your mum?" Tipping her head to the side as she looked over at the boy, Elliot looked generally curious. She had more or less gotten the gist of how Nate had been and the like since she had been gone, but for some strange reason the Almasian was tempted to ask about his mother as well; perhaps because she knew that the woman was a large enough factor in Nate's life, and would probably shine a little more light on how things had been going for him over the last few months. Reading people came easily enough to Elliot, and she had never been able to resist picking apart at someone's mind, especially someone as fascinating as Nate Wakeman.

[nate]

Why, I do believe I've pushed a button! oh, the urge to keep poking it and see what comes out. It would be ever so delightful to get a rant from Elliot. Be nice to be on the receiving end for once.

Nate felt like shivering himself. The air suddenly felt oppressive, even chillier than it had been a few moments ago. As if America had heard their complaints and come away offended. Show them to bad mouth the country.

"I'm used to taking almosts," Nate mused aloud. He turned a smirk on Elliot, raising an eyebrow. "You can't have perfection, so you have to settle for whatever's closest. It's the way of the world."

Thus spake Wakeman.

His mother?

Yes, Nate had mentioned her to Elliot at some point. Didn't know it had stuck well enough in her mind. It also forced Nate to think on what information he knew of her. A sister came to mind, and he logged that tidbit away for later.

"My mum's fine," he responded, "started dating again, with some gentle nudging. You'd think someone who's never been married would be good at dating by her age."

He laughed dryly. "I bought her a dress the other day; haven't given it to her yet."

Nate looked to Elliot now, smiling, "So, what about your family? I seem to recall a sister..."

[Elliot is on the edge.]

"Perhaps. My mum is probably about the same age and she's a serial dater. Though I suppose it isn't that hard to find eligible men when they only thing you're looking at is their bank account." Elliot loved her mother, but she also couldn't help but hold the woman in disdain at the same time. In her eyes, every parent paled in comparison to her father, and it was hard to trust someone who - like her mother - hurt the one person you really trust in life - like her father.

"Ugh. Mae is wonderful, as always." Her words were suddenly sharp against her tongue, like broken glass. "She's in Vegas, or L.A. or France or something." Her voice grew dry at her next words, feeling a bit edgy for some reason. "I'll have to introduce you sometime. Your head would probably explode."

Elliot bumped Nate's hip with hers again, staggering for a split-second in her monster shoes. The misstep actually caused her to chuckle, that smile bringing life into her features again.

[nate]

"I'm pretty sure my mother's only qualification is a pulse and a penis," Nate offered, shrugging. Elliot wasn't the only one who disparaged their mother.

Yet one more thing that lines up between us. Someone must be chuckling over the similarities, laughing and elbowing each other in the ribs.

He could tell the sister was a touchy subject, and Elliot's words reminded him of what else had been said about her. Namely such things as Elliot was the ugly sister and Elliot's actually jealous of someone. Both "facts" went a long way toward blowing Nate's mind. He'd met some supernatural beings who could be considered better looking than Elliot, and even some that had a strange draw. But something about her appealed to him on some deeper level.

If I say cosmic I'm shooting myself. I don't believe in Fate, and it's certainly not operating here.

"I used to want a sibling," he mused, eying Elliot. His eyebrow and lip quirked up as she stumbled, not quite matching her smile. "But that was back when I was young enough to not know any better. Besides, I doubt my mother could handle two of me running about."

Nate shrugged. That old stigma of being an immaculate conception was creeping up on him.

"You know, if you're really having that much trouble walking," his eyes went to her shoes, figuring them to be the main culprits in this, "then I could try and teleport us there."

[Elliot is on the edge.]

"Well, an older sister had been all I'd ever wanted when I was little, and Mae was the best until I was about, fourteen. The competition between us became less subtle then, and she's always been winning." She shrugged, not wanting to dwell on the idea for long. Mae with her black raven hair and purple eyes, Mae with her modeling contract and skinny body. Mae with the ability to stay detached and cool and still somehow lovable. She wasn't anything like Elliot with her honey-blonde hair and baby blue eyes, her half-written novel and obvious curves; Elliot with the cracked heart and drinking problem.

"Now I wish I had been born into a family of brothers." Easing into a smile once again, she looked over at Nate with a touch of amusement in her features.

"No, It's alright. I can man-" And then some karmic bastard forced Elliot to eat her own words as the heel of her stiletto caught something in the road, and with a sharp, painful noise her ankle twisted in a completely unnatural angle. Everything happened so fast. The world spun and Elliot had crashed to a heap on the road. She had tried to catch herself with her wrist, and much like her ankle, the joint had produced a rather sickening crack upon impact and was now swelling to an obscene amount. When she looked up at Nate, there were tears welling in her blue eyes.

"Ow. Fuck. Ow." Falling back onto the road and squeezing her eyes shut to try and ignore the stabbing pain in her wrist, Elliot couldn't stop cursing herself in between the deep breaths to ease the hurt.

[nate]

Why does she continue to sell herself short like that? I haven't even met this sister and already I wanted to loath her, simply by what she's managing to do to another human being. This is precisely why I cannot stand other humans. It's like they go out of their way to make others' lives miserable.

Gah, now I just want to hug her, and that is most certainly not how this relationship works.

"Brothers would probably be worse, most of us males are bast--" Nate turned just as Elliot tumbled, cutting off his words by attempting to catch her. Unfortunately, Nate still proved as uncoordinated and awkward as ever, and almost managed taking a spill himself. The end result had him straddled over her, still standing.

"What the f**k, Elliot?" he managed, lowering himself to the ground. He moved closer to try and study the mangled wrist, and he winced on doing so. His Gift certainly wouldn't help here, except in getting her to someone who could. "This is what you get for wearing those d**m shoes."

He shifted so he could support her weight with his hands, his eyes showing concern even as he continued to berate her. "I think now would be a very good time for me to teleport us back to the Academy. A quick injection or a hand wave and you'll be good as new."

he snorted, "Probably sober too, more's the pity."

His eyes fell on the swollen wrist, then to the twisted angle. This was just his luck, really. "Brace yourself."

[Elliot is on the edge.]

"Hey, I really like these shoes. I stole them in Prague." Elliot opened her eyes, managing a weak jest as she turned her head to look at Nate, who was much closer to her all of a sudden. There were tear streaks staining her blushed cheeks, and a streak of eyeliner from where she had tried to wipe away a stray teardrop, though it had been to no avail.

"I don't care about 'good as new'" Her voice was quiet, buried deep in her throat and her wrist was positively on fire. Elliot felt sick, dizzy with discomfort as she gritted her teeth against a sudden sharp pang in her ankle. "I care about getting some fucking painkillers, some Morphine, or something."

Looking up at Nate, her vision blurred with pain and tears, the blonde was finding herself grateful for him once again. Leaning up to the best of ability, Elliot kissed him on the cheek, catching the curve of his mouth with her own tiny, grateful smile.

"Now let's get the fuck out of here, Romeo."

[nate]

A small chuckled escaped at her joke.

But leave it to you to want to dull your pain and drown it in drugs of some sort instead of actually fix the problem. You're big into tackling symptoms, aren't you?

Nate bent over, sliding an arm at the back of Elliot's knees. His other hand spread out to support the small of her back. In this way he turned her lean into a full out carry, though he staggered a bit as he got her situated. After all, he wasn't exactly bulging with muscles.

"F**k, I'm no Romeo," he gasped, taking a few wobbling steps. "I'm closer to Hamlet than anything else. Moody, offensive, and blunt."

He raised an eyebrow, smirking at her as he pulled her close. For practical purposes, of course.

"The hell out of here were are getting."

With that, he focused his Gift, readying their connected bodies for the long range transport. He knew ahead of time that it would tire him, and that Elliot certainly wouldn't be in the mood for much of anything.

Then again, she's probably the sort that enjoys drunked, drugged sex.

Still, he actually did this because somewhere deep inside, he actually cared for the d**m girl.

More's the pity.

And with that, the two teleported back to the Academy they both hated.

OoC: if you want to continue, you can make new thread somewhere in the Academy, I'll find it, I assure you.