The Morning After

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C

Cotillion

Guest
Original poster
[DASH=red]The hot sun beat down on the earth. Shade was nowhere to be found, and Mikael was sweating profusely. The heat was oppressive: the sun scorched his skin, the humid air setting his lungs on fire. Any sane person would seek shelter, but Mikael just stood there silently, cursing himself for being so stupid. He was almost entirely naked, save for the wedding ring that was stuck to his ring finger. Try as he might, it wouldn't come off. It served as a reminder of her, that she-devil that had done this to him.

Mikael thought about the last month, the month that he had spent with her. Other than waking up married to a complete stranger, things had started out well between them. He even started developing feelings for her, going so far as to naively think that things might work out between them. His mother would have been happy that he had gotten married before his twenty fifth birthday, which ironically enough was today, but she had died several years ago. Mikael tried sitting down on a rock, but it scalded his bare butt cheeks, forcing him to jump up in pain. He chuckled, the events of the last month replaying themselves over and over in his head.[/DASH]
 
A MONTH OR SO EARLIER...

Everything was trashed. Floor to ceiling. Bottles of empty booze scattered amidst a flurry of knocked over items and discarded clothing. Silly little notes were written all over the walls in bright red lipstick. A pair of underwear covering up the light near the bed, that seemed to be occupied. Sheets and blankets had been shoved off haphazardly to the floor along with the pillows. Save for one that was currently being held over the head of a groggy and all too annoyed female in it. A snore and a grumble sounded next to her.

That's when she sat up.

"Oh shit..." the phrase came out as an unsurprised whisper. Her head turning and dark eyes now falling over the face down, bare-assed body lying next to her. He was alive at least. She didn't have a damn clue what his name was, though.

Her hand ran through her hair as she eased out of bed. A grimace crossing her face when she pulled out a few pieces of popcorn and tossed them aside. It took her a moment to find the bits and pieces of her clothes. Drawing them on with a mild curiosity as to what was stained all over them, and then decided she -really- didn't want to know.

For a minute she was worried she had lost her communication pad in her clearly drunken stupor, but it was sitting on a table next to a big mirror. An eyebrow raised when she picked it up, finding the thing had a video on it. Giving another curious glance to the body in the bed, she pressed PLAY.

"Hey, you backstabbing slut! Guess who this is! -- Hey babe, say hi to my sister -- SEEEEE~! He's my husband! We're marriiiedd!" The woman on screen was clearly herself, giggling and so drunk that she could barely stand up straight. So was the guy for that matter. Waving stupidly at the little screen as she kissed his cheek and cackled. "Lets see you find Antony's fortune now sluuuut! He's got a ship and we're gonna flyyyy!" She had dropped the little screen on the table as it kept on recording. The pair of them laughing, mumbling about fame and fortune even as they tumbled in to bed. She was yanking his shirt off an--

Tara snapped the compad shut. Wait a fucking second. Married.

She looked at her hand. A ring. Her eyes moved up towards the mirror where a big lipstick arrow was pointing to a piece of paper. License... Now that she actually looked all around the room there was confessions of love and WORSE. Directions to the teeny tiny little treasure that was supposed to be hers and hers alone!

"Oh fuck...!" Shit, that came out louder than she wanted. Tara grabbed the nearest article of clothing that she could find and rushed towards one of the walls trying to rub the lipstick off. She had to erase the map!

...aw crap, where was her map?!
 
Mikael was having a fantastic dream. It was full of heists, double crosses, and adventures where he got to wear a fancy hat. There were pretty girls too. The dream was finally starting to get good when a loud "Oh fuck" followed by frantic scrubbing woke Mikael up.

The room reeked of sex and alcohol, assaulting Mikael's nose. He was laying on the bed, splayed across it, an arm and a leg dangling over the side. A headache started to form, forcing Mikael to groan loudly. What happened last night? He cautiously opened his eyes, not recognizing the room surrounding him. Red lipstick smeared every single wall as though a tornado of children had gotten loose with red crayons. Mikael lazily got out of the bed, trying to make sense of the commotion all around him. There was a girl scrubbing at the lipstick on the walls. Sweet, must have gotten laid last night. "Uh...hi...girl. Nice place you got here. I especially like the red lipstick."

Mikael stood there, hanging out for the world to see, his hands lightly resting on his hips. The world was spinning around him. "What happened last night?"
 
"Girl?" Tara turned, a scowl on her face as she eyed the man. God damnit, he was awake. There was no way she would get all that shit off the walls without him asking questions. And apparently, this wasn't -his- place, so who the fuck knew where they were right now.

She was going to have to bullshit the hell out of this situation real quick.

"WELL... that is a good question. If I had an answer, we'd be right shiny..." Crap, so much for her quick thinking. No handy story was coming to mind. Thus, Tara had to fall back on what she did best.

As quick as can be, she whipped out a gun and pointed it at him. Having put on her clothes before he woke was a good move, because now she had the advantage and full control of the situation. "I apologize for this unorthodox awakening, but I got a little problem" she held up her hand and flashed the wedding ring, then motioned her gun towards his own left hand, "that we gotta clear up. The first thing you're gonna do is get dressed and then we're going to need some fire..."

Tara didn't explain why she needed the fire. He was about to find out soon enough.
 
Mikael was trying not to laugh like a little school girl as the woman in front of him struggled to answer his question; she seemed embarrassed about waking up with him. His amusement was short lived as she pulled a gun out and aimed it directly at his chest. Mikael had disappointed his fair share of women, but this was new.

"Hey now, watch where you're pointing that thing..." he trailed off as the surprise of seeing a wedding band on his ring finger struck home. How drunk had he been last night?

"Sure, I'll put my clothes on...just put the gun down." Mikael spotted his underwear hanging on a lamp. He reached over and pulled them off the lamp, his eyes on the girl, looking for a way to distract her so he could grab the lamp and throw it at her. What a fucking psychotic bitch. Who pulls a gun on a one night stand? And what on earth did she need a fire for? "Lady, I got a lighter in my pants. They're right there, behind you. Lighter's in the right pocket."
 
"Maybe YOU should start watching where you put THAT." She motioned her gun towards his wang. "Maybe you wouldn't end up married with a stranger and in some deep shit."

Tara picked up his pants, making sure her eyes didn't leave him. She draped them over her gun arm and dug through the pockets until she had the lighter in hand. Then she tossed his pants at him. "There. Find whatever else is yours too."

She waited patiently for him to bustle about the room, but did seem a bit antsy any time he took a look at the writing on the walls. Man, what the fuck was she thinking last night. Stupidest damn thing she had ever did...!

"All right, don't dilly dally. Grab some of those partially filled bottles and smash them up against the walls."
 
"Ain't my fault most girls fall for the line 'Wanna see my spaceship' now is it?" he retorted, pulling his underwear on. "And for all we know, you could have been the one that proposed to me."

It didn't take him long to locate the rest of his clothes and get dressed. Red lipstick was marked all over his white shirt, probably the same lipstick that was on the walls. Mikael couldn't help but notice that the markings on the walls looked vaguely like a map. A map to what? And why is she so desperate to get rid of it?

"Alright, that's the last of it," Mikael said as he found the last of his belongings, a brown coat that had been handed down to him from his father.

"You mind telling me what the lipstick on these walls is for?" He started looking for bottles with liquid still in them, cautiously eying the girl, checking to see if her guard was down. Might as well go for it, might not get a chance otherwise. He threw the bottles and watched as they smashed against their targets, smearing their contents all over the walls, the alcohol mixed with the lipstick and oozed down the walls. Hoping that was enough of a distraction, Mikael chucked an empty bottle at the gun in the girl's hand, ready to pounce after it if it struck home.
 
"Not unless you're rich as balls.." she muttered at the idea of her proposing first. Tara remained stiffly on guard as he gathered up his clothes and tossed the bottles at the walls like she asked. Everything was coated nicely in a fine layer of booze. Of course he HAD to ask about the lipstick, of which she had a really good retort. Until a bottle came flying at her and cracking her gun out of her hand. The thing went sliding across the floor and under something.

Tara cursed loudly when he moved, dodging out of the way to give him a swift kick to the side. She went scrambling for her gun. "You shit..! We're gonna need that!" Screw trying to explain things to him, she flicked the lighter and tossed it at one of the walls. The thing lit up QUICK with fire. Tara was hoping the sudden danger would send the twit running so she could grab her gun and get the hell out too. She was already on her knees trying to reach it under a table.
 
Pain shot through Mikael's ribs as the girl's foot connected. He stumbled, gasping for air. Damn, she's stronger than she looks. The gun was underneath one of the tables, and the girl went scrambling after it. Perfect, it gave him time to escape. Little streams of fire crawled up the walls as the room burst in to flame around him.

The door. Where the fuck is the door?! His eyes scanned the room, trying to find an exit. The windows were closer, but he couldn't risk it, not when he didn't know what floor they were on. There! The door was on the far wall, untouched by flame. He ran for it, throwing his whole body at the door, trying to break it open. A resounding thwack came from the door as he made contact, barely moving it. Fuck that hurt. Mikael took a second to look at the door. Fuck me. Why would she try to lock me in if she's in here with me? He hurriedly turned the knob and stepped out of the room, just as the fire alarm started to sound behind him.
 
"Sonofabitch...!" He was fleeing like a scared rabbit. Normally, she wouldn't give two shits. And Tara was more than happy to be rid of him! Except for the small complication of being married and that possibility that memories of the prior night might return. That would royally screw her.

As soon as she got her hand on her gun, it was holstered and she was bolting out of the room. On her way she made sure to grab her datapad. Then she was tearing out of the door and down the hall.

There wasn't exactly of a lot of different escape options for the man. Only one way out. Tara followed and quickly caught up. He got out of the building but she wasn't too far behind him. It must have been the middle of the day, as plenty of people were out on the streets going about their business. She couldn't very well pull her gun out on him public...

"Quit running! I'm your WIFE!" she shouted out with a growl. In her frustration when she passed by an empty crate, she picked it up and chucked it at his fleeing back.
 
Fire shot out of the windows on the top floor of the hotel they had been in, a crowd growing outside, hypnotized by the flames. Sirens wailed in the distance. Mikael quickened his pace, deciding he should be as far away from the fire as possible when the authorities got here, lest they take him in for questioning. As he ran out the doors, nobody tried to stop him.

Yet another successful escape attempt after a one night stand. Mikael smiled smugly as he ran out of the building and in to the street. One night stands usually weren't his cup of tea, unless he was drinking heavily. This one had to take the cake though, and he couldn't wait to tell someone about the events of the morning. Hell, this probably wasn't the first time she woke up to a mistake, and instead of just admitting that she liked to get freaky with strangers she sticks a ring on my finger and claims we're married, Mikael thought. Shit, I gotta get this ring off. Before he could even attempt to pull the ring off, a crate fell between his legs, breaking his stride and forcing him to crash land on the pavement.

Mikael rolled his eyes. She had caught him. Just his luck. He laid there as though it was perfectly normal for a grown man to nap in the middle of a sidewalk, contemplating his next move. A familiar figure appeared in the corner of his eye. Oh...shit...that tongue...that smell...Hubert...must flee.

A goofy looking dog stood there, tongue sticking out, its tail wagging triumphantly as it neared its victim. Mikael jumped up, backing away from the little monster. He was absolutely terrified of dogs, but this little fucker took the cake. He was the friendliest, stupidest, most loving dog that Mikael had ever met, and he didn't take no for an answer. Mikael loathed him. "Away you vile fiend, away!" Mikael yelled at the dog, inching further and further away. If the dog was here, his owner, one Ms. Roberta Black, wasn't far away. Mikael had had dealings with her before, and he didn't have the patience to deal with that part of his life right now, especially with the way his day was going.

Mikael turned, and jumped back, startled, as his 'wife' stood there looking at him. Might as well get this over with and be on my way off of this hellhole.

"Hi wife!" he greeted her, "nice to see you again. How about we go grab some breakfast and you can get around to telling me your name?" He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, leading her towards the nearest restaurant.
 
"...that is an awfully quick turn of mood..." Tara responded with a raise of her eyebrow. She had caught up with him as he lay sprawled out on the sidewalk. But it was the way he suddenly jumped off the ground and started backing away that had her startled. At first she thought maybe some unfriendly thugs he was involved had appeared. Instead all she spotted was a stupidly adorable dog. That he was afraid of. Now his arm was draped around her as they were back tracking towards the restaurant district.

Tara cast a look over her shoulder to see if the dog was following. "My name is Tara..." she started off slowly. "It was Tara Morgan. I suppose I have a new last name now." She had NO idea how to start off this conversation now that he was suddenly acting so differently. Tara had intended in tying him up and interrogating him. This was a little disconcerting.

"Who's the dog?"
 
"Well, you can start introducing yourself as Mrs. Reynolds. I'm Mikael," he said, barely paying attention to where they were going. His thoughts were on the little terror behind him, but he refrained from turning around lest his worst nightmare stood there, staring back at him. Instinct told him to run away from this girl, to get as far away from this planet as possible, and to hide in his spaceship eating ice cream. But that wasn't an option; he was trapped between two psycho females, only one of whom knew he was there. Better to try and act civil with her, at least until he had a chance to lose her completely.

Mikael casually glanced behind him; the dog was staring directly in to his eyes, whining softly. A woman in a hideous red dress was bending over, scratching behind the demon's ears. Several "Awww's" were emitted from the woman. Mikael recognized that high pitched, annoying sound immediately. Roberta...oh shit.

Mikael yelped and quickened his pace."That dog is evil incarnate. Best we avoid it at all costs." Behind him the dog barked, which raised the hairs on the back of Mikael's neck. Must hide. Veering left, Mikael rushed Tara and himself in to the first restaurant he could find. Paint was peeling off of the walls, there were ants crawling all over the place, and the faint stench of urine permeated the air. It was the grungiest establishment he had ever seen, but it would have to do. "This place is perfect! I think I'm going to have the pancakes..."
 
Perfect was not the word Tara would use to describe the place. Shabby, run down, GROSS, those were some good words. There was no way in hell she was eating in a place that reeked of piss and looked like a men's urinal. Tara was two steps away from grabbing him by the ear and dragging him out. But she got the feeling there was more to that dog business than he was spilling.

And frankly, she didn't give a shit.

"I'm going to ignore how weird the whole dog fiasco is, and just get to the point." she muttered, while easing herself down in to a seat. The chair made her want to bathe more than any of the stupid things they did last night. Tara tried not to put her hands on the table.

"So... we're married. By accident mind, you. Probably entirely your fault. However, it's a problem that can very easily be solved and could be very beneficial if you happen to have a ship and a little free time." The plan was already starting to take formation in her head. Sure, the entire thing was a total fluke, she didn't trust him as far as she could throw him, but... why not make the best of the situation? Put him to good use.
 
"Dog fiasco? That fucking dog...nothing should be as cheerful as that stupid little runt," Mikael muttered, his eyes glancing constantly over to the door they just came in from. No signs of anybody following them. Now, if this sudden burst of good luck could hold, he would hopefully be off the planet before Roberta caught wind of him.

"My fault? Figures you would blame it all on me. It's just as much your fault as it is mine, missy," he responded. When she mentioned the ship, he grew a bit suspicious. Did she marry me for my SHIP? Note to self, must stop using "wanna see my spaceship?" as a pickup line. But, it seemed like he had no choice in the matter; he couldn't think of a way to ditch her and escape from the planet. "Alright, you've piqued my curiosity. I have a ship. What did you have in mind? And please don't say a honeymoon."
 
"Hahaha, honeymoon." Tara didn't hide the sarcasm at all. She merely plopped her elbow on the table and rest her chin in her hands as she scowled at him. "I'm glad you think this is funny, because I sure don't. I sent a little video of us to my sister, and with her bitchtastic moods, she probably has it sent all over the galaxy by now."

THEN Tara grinned. "I hope you don't have a reputation, because it's been successfully ruined for sure."

After a moment of self satisfied grinning, her expression went serious again. "How about I level with you. No bullshit. My sister and I are having a little disagreement over who owns an inheritance. A nice tidy little fortune that is supposed to go to the eldest child if they're married, eligible, yadda, yadda, yadda... Seeing as we've had this little incident, there's no reason why we can't go making the most of it. You give me a hand with my problem, and I make sure you have enough cash to find yourself in bed with a new wife every night for the rest of your life."

"Niiice sounding, yes?"
 
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