Jude nodded, wobbling a bit as much from the alcohol as the sudden cessation of rhythm. He watched her slim figure weave away as the crowd closed around her.
Shaking his head a bit to clear it, he found the air felt rather cold - or maybe just empty. God damn that girl had an aroma he could live on, if only there wasn't so much perfume and club smell and alcohol in the way of it.
Blinking the spots out of his eyes, he ambled off in the same direction, breaking through the crowd a minute later and finding the sloshed girl taking deep breaths in the coat room. She was leant against the wall, whether for balance or relaxation he wasn't sure, but he favoured the first.
"You doing all right?" he asked, swallowing past his own dizziness. She muttered something that sounded sarcastic, waving him off. He focused his gaze on her face; she looked pale, even compared to earlier. Her eyes were glazed, she was breathing as if it were important.
"She have a coat?" he asked over his shoulder. The bored looking young man behind the coat check counter glanced at him through his spectacles. There was no recognition on his face. Well, twenty-something male geek was not really his demographic.
"She left a bag." he said, returning his gaze downward. Probably a phone or something on his lap.
"Could I see it?" Jude asked, irritated at having to.
"Nope." he said slowly, not bothering to look up this time.
"I just want to see her address so I can drop her home." Jude argued, turning to face him and striding forward one long step to press his hands down on the counter, as much for intimidation as stability.
The Bored Rude Geeky Twenty-Something clerk cast a long glance up and down the buzzed rockstar before heaving an annoyed sigh and slouching his way to the line of hanging bags and garments. He returned with a small bag, thin and feminine-looking. He put it down on the counter, staring at Jude's face as if weighing whether he gave zero or negative five fucks whether the blond deviant grabbed it and ran.
Jude opened it up far enough to see what seemed like the world's thinnest plastic wallet; one of those card-holder things. The topmost card was photo ID. He had to squint to make out the address, but the street was familiar to him.
"Bruce!" he hollered, replacing the card in the bag and looping it over Sansa's worryingly-co-operative shoulder.
"BRUCE!" he reiterated, hollering into the club. Tyrell poked his way in, stumbling as if the crowd had expelled him forcefully.
"What're you yelling about?" the angular manager asked, raising an eyebrow as he took in the scene.
"Get Bruce I'm going home."
"It's barely one."
"I'm going home and I'm dropping her off on my way, get Bruce."
"Bruce went home after driving you here; I'll get Leslie."
"Don't like Leslie." Jude observed, leaning against the wall next to Sansa, the wood obstinate against the back of his head as he closed his eyes briefly. "Always leering when he thinks I'm not looking."
Tyrell had already disappeared throgh the doorway. A moment later Leslie strode through, and Jude followed, looping his arm under Sansa's shoudlers. She mumbled something offended-sounding, but seemed more sleepy than sick, which put him a bit at ease.
"Oh, Tyrell! Hey Boss!"
The man appeared like magic. Had to ask him how he did that; he was supposed to be the supernatural one.
"Her friend, the um-" Jude snapped his fingers twice in the air, as if flicking away the wrong words
"The ginger, fuck, what-"
"You want her to come along?" He was going to fire him if he kept up that attitude; he could practically taste the smirk in his voice. No he wasn't, the man was too good.
"Yeah."
"She disappeared a while ago; with your stage manager I believe."
Jude laughed, picturing it. Well. Greg would take care of her. For him though, an excuse to call it early, go home, watch some TV and pass out by himself for a change was attractive.
Of course he'd mourn the loss of that scent the second she was out of the car.
The drive was relaxing, and the hum of the motor nearly put him under. They pulled over on the street in front of Sansa's house; a nice enough looking place from what he could see, which wasn't much. Leslie took a break from uneccessary rearview-mirror glances to start to get out, Jude told him to stay.
He pushed the door open with his boot, having unlatched it, and walked around, appreciating the warmth of an early September evening as he pulled open the door on Sansa's side. He looped his arm under her shoulders, and together they walked - well, he walked. Well, he made his way, to the door. He rapped twice, waiting anxiously. She didn't weigh much, but he wasn't brawny at the best of times and drinking always made his muscles sore at a point. Besides, holding her up like this, her head was tipped back, stargazing, and he could see her pulse throbbing in the smooth space of neck under her jaw.
He gulped, ringing the bell. Nothing.
There was nothing in the mailbox, and it took some maneuvering, but once he managed to lift the rug, a familiar bronze gleam revealed a key rewarded his efforts. The door swung open; it was as dark inside as it was silent. Sansa seemed to have regained some life on her native soil. He released a good part of the support on his arm as she looked around and took an unsteady step inside, leaning against the wall and pulling at her shoes. She wobbled.
"Can I come in?"
She looked at him, impossibly bright eyes gleaming, seeming to gather up what drops of moonlight made it past the awning and concentrate them in two pools on her face.
"What?"
"Can I come in. Not to stay."
She shrugged, which was good enough, and he stepped in as she kicked off her other shoe and headed for a doorway within arm's reach of the entrance.
An electric light switched on and she seemed to cringe at its intrusion as she headed toward a cupboard, pulling it open with a bit more force than necessary and reaching greedily for a bottle of familiar clear fluid near the top.
"Not so quick" he checked, grasping her wrist gently and closing the cupboard despite the burning stare and scorching obscenities she muttered as he tugged her away.
She wouldn't tell him where her room was, and he didn't feel like trying to explain his chaste intentions in asking; he was too drunk to articulate and she too much so to be convinced anyway. In fact the second she seemed to realise his proximity she jumped back as if she'd been pricked.
A couch was easy enough to find though, as was sitting her down on it. Settled on the cushions, she leaned against the armrest, tucking her feet up under her and wrapping one arm against a bright green, squashy-looking pillow. There was a throw cover on the back of the couch, he pulled it over her as her eyes closed.
Straightening, Jude looked around the dark room. His vision was blurred, but fortunately the lack of lighting was not an issue. One of the few-and-far-between perks of his condition.
The living room was connected to the kitchen, and while he tried to keep snooping to a minimum, it took a few cupboards before he found a tall plastic tumbler and filled it with tapwater, leaving it on the end table within her slender arm's reach. As he set the drink down, her arm fell from the pillow listlessly, hanging out over the small space between couch and floor, palm upward.
wrist upward.
He swallowed, running his tongue over his suddenly very dry lips.
"Home. Now." Jude ordered, scooting into the backseat and lying across it, not bothering with a seatbelt. Lelsie pealed off into the street. Bruce would have made him buckle up. Maybe he didn't hate Leslie quite so much.
At home, Jude didn't bother with any semblance of dignity, pulling off his boots and leaving them directly in front of the door, and peeling off the rest of his clothes down to his shorts on the way to his room, leaving them wherever they fell. He landed on the bed face-first, the fabric-softener-scented sheets greeting him coldly. It must be later than he thought, the heat was off already.
He set his phone down on the nightside, groping for the charger. Its light was entirely too strong to be justifiable, but he squinted at it, scrolling his way through messages until he found Wayne's number. Wayne the stage manager. Wayne the one Sansa's friend had gone off with
Hye boss plz make sure 2 get ur new 'friend" s # 4 me
He looked tiredly at his typing. Whatever, he couldn't be bothered with spelling at this point. One edit needed though;
Hye boss plz make sure 2 get ur new 'friend" s home # 4 me
Sending the message into the ether, he let his heavy eyelids shut, and was dead to the world for the next nine hours.