“Should I, now?” You give him a wicked smile, cupping your mug with both hands as if seeking yet more heat from it. You take a quick drink and savour it, sweeter than you usually drink but great all the same.
You still don’t see how Scout can abuse his coffee the way he does, but hey - it’s not like you’re perfect, either.
“And when have I ever done anything I should, huh?”
You’ve got the worst sweet tooth of anyone you know, is how. There’s a reason you keep bags of candy stashed in your coat and your desk and anywhere else you spend large amounts of time, after all. Coffee just isn’t particularly appealing until you’ve dumped so much sugar in it the crystals can no longer dissolve. You drain the rest of your cup.
“Whenever there’s somethin’ in it for you, I would think,” you say, setting your empty mug down and propping your head up on your hand. “An’ if I’m thinkin’ right, there’s a lot in it for you, yeah?”
“I was busy,” you think, anyway, “with, mm, work, you could say.” That’s about as close as you can get without all the facts yourself. There’s a lot of dead time in there, long stretches where you have no recollection.
“I think everything’s sorted for now.” You hope. “So, I’ve got plenty of time to dick around with.”
“Work, huh.” You can accept that answer. You already know he’s not going to tell you any details about work, no matter how much he might trust you.
“… That’s good, though. Seems t’ me like you needed a break.” You grin at him, over the brim of your cup. “An’ if you’ve got time t’ dick around, seems t’ me like maybe you should be makin’ up for vanishing for weeks.”
You pour yourself a half cup and down it quickly, feeling the heat leech into your body even as your throat itches and repairs the burns you just swallowed. You pour a second cup and sweeten it with a few teaspoons of sugar before slumping into the chair beside Scout.
“Better, now that I’m warm.” Warmer, anyway. There’s still that ever present chill.
You try to ignore it.
“Seemed like you’d perked up a little, yeah.” You reach over, brushing your free hand against Scofflaw’s arm. “So are you gonna tell me what’s happened to you in th’ past few weeks, or what?”
You aren’t sure how much of an answer you’re expecting. If he’s not going to give you one you aren’t going to push it, you guess, but it’s worth asking anyway.
You scrub yourself raw twice in the course of getting actually clean, but you guess a simple bath won’t erase all the grime you’ve accumulated over your life. It’s pretty damn funny, for reasons you can’t quite grasp, but it leaves you with a smile as you dry yourself off anyway.
You’re in a particularly swell mood when you amble into the kitchen, shirt hung over one shoulder. “So, about that coffee…”
The coffee pot is set out on the middle of the table by the time Scofflaw walks in, with an empty mug next to it. You nod towards it, sipping at your own cup.
“Didn’t really know what y’ wanted in it, so help yourself.” You’re pretty sure Scofflaw doesn’t take his coffee with half a pound of sugar in it like you do.
“How’re you feeling?”
You grin at him before stepping into the shower. You can’t remember the last time you had a hot shower - or a shower at all, actually. It’s all a just a blur broken up by periods of painful hyper-lucidity.
You shake that off as you adjust the heat until the water is all but scalding. “A hot coffee would be pretty fuckin’ grand.” Sweet merciful Demonhead, coffee.
“Heh. Alright, I’ll have it for y’ when you get out,” you say, before slipping out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind you.
You’re used to making coffee— you can’t work in the Meddlesome Company for very long without learning how, the office is practically powered by the stuff. Every now and then you pour alcohol in yours, provided Deadeye doesn’t catch you.
You set up the coffee pot and settle into a chair at the table to wait for Scofflaw, trying not to think about how much you fucking missed him.
You find yourself reaching for your inventory to pull a gun as the door opens, but as soon as you hear Scout’s voice you relax all at once, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Yeah, Scout?” You hope he doesn’t ask about why you were gone for so long. You’re not entirely sure you could find an answer for him. “Long time no see, huh?”
Great job, Scofflaw.
You snort, pushing the door open far enough so as to step inside, leaning against the door frame.
“No fuckin’ kidding. I was startin’ t’ worry you’d dropped of th’ face of the planet, or somethin’. Nice t’ know you’re still alive, at least.”
You’d like to ask, but you’ll wait. For the moment, you’re just happy to see him, and you can see already he’s not in the best shape. You’ve waited this long.
“… You need me t’ get you anythin’?”
You feel absolutely filthy, and you’re sure you look worse than you feel. You had to burn your other change of clothes a few days ago, and now you’re regretting it. What’s a little blood and viscera, after all?
All you want right now is a shower, a change of clothes, and an actual bed to go to sleep in. You let yourself in via the bathroom, and even that short trip sets your head spinning and your heart racing like you’ve just run a mile. Your magic is almost gone, now, leaving an itch in your bones that you can’t quite scratch. It’s been driving you steadily mad for the last two weeks.
You shouldn’t have even tried that, you guess. You mutter angrily to yourself about the injustices of the world as you shed your ruined clothes and turn the shower on. Briefly you wonder if Scout is home, but the hiss and steam of the shower is a siren call you’ve been missing for too long.
Shower first, everything else can just wait.
Normally you’d be out, on a night like this, but lately you haven’t really had much of a reason to leave the house. Barhopping loses some of it’s charm when the people you’d hope to run into are more likely to just be waiting at home.
You instinctively tense up when you hear someone else in the house, but you relax again once you hear the shower running. You can’t think of many people who would break in just to take a shower.
You slide out of bed anyway, padding over to the bathroom, perhaps a little too eager. You crack the door open.
Took y’ long enough.
Gotta do something about this headache before I leave. I’ll see you in a few hours.
Heh. Guess I’ve waited this long, won’t hurt t’ wait a little longer.
See you then.
Hit me up with somethin’, c’mon.
Put one (or more) of these in my ask box, and I’ll answer them!
☾ : Sleep headcanon
☠ : Drinking/drunk headcanon
☼ : Childhood headcanon
☯ : Genderbent headcanon
⋆ : Sex headcanon
☮ : Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon
☄ : Any AU headcanon (modern, school, medieval, and so on)
♤ : Cooking headcanon
☻ : Mood headcanon
♒ : Any other question of your choosing