a shoulder to lean on

Who: Dodge and Maddy
Where: Casa De Maddy (The Hill Street Theater)
When: Late Morning

Maddy was drunk still. Sort of.

She had started late in the afternoon the previous day, the liquor store spread out on the top of her beat up dresser slowly dwindling as the hours wore on into today. Maddy was a small, tiny thing and to prolong the event, she'd stolen several loaves of bread and bottles of Coke from various places so she could get the most enjoyment from the schnapps and the Jack Daniels and the Jim Beam.

Somewhere around midnight, She started playing dress up, donning Juliet's gauzy white nightdress and donning a long blonde wig. She held (in her drunken state) fairy court, ordering various people to death before passing out somewhere in the wee hours of a bleary dawn.

She lay haphazardly amidst pillows and blankets, on the bleary cusp of consciousness, wig hair in her mouth, drowsing.

Dodge had left Angelo feeling immensely better, despite being turned straight down by Evie at the ball and actually managed to sleep well. The beer he had before bed had probably helped in that department.

Feeling refreshed when he woke up, he'd quickly dressed and started his day. Newspaper tucked in his back pocket (he had to see if he was going to be in the social pages), and tuxedo tucked under his arm he headed towards Maddy's little loft to return his costume.

He tapped lightly on the door, but to no answer. Throwing caution to the wind, he pushed open the door a little, sticking his head in to see if he could catch a glimpse of her latest masterpiece she'd been so hell bent on hiding from him. Instead of her artwork he found something far more amusing. Maddy sprawled across the bed, out cold. Dressed in...what exactly? "Maaaadddddy."

Maddy's eyes cracked open just a little, but her back was to Dodge so she didn't see him. She thought she heard someone say her name, but as she didn't hear any movement, she paused it off as a remnant of her drunken stupor and turned over to find a more comfortable position. Mmmm, pillows.

Dodge chuckled a little and then spotted the bar she'd set up on her dresser. Well that explained that. Moving into the room, still quietly, he crept up on the bed. "Maaadddyyy."

The voice. Again. Maddy opened her eyes more, and focused somewhat blearily on a large person creeping on her bed. That... didn't compute. She could've sworn she locked the door, but then, the latch was flimsy and had a nasty habit of unlocking. Amidst the alcohol induced hazy, her heart started pounding faster, her vision clearing slowly and she groped for something, any kind of weapon. Her hand latched onto a pillow and she clocked him in the head with it, slowly (oh, why was she moving so slow, she really shouldn't have drunk so much) scrambling back, The wig finally falling off her head. Then things properly came in focus. "Dodge?" Oh, her mouth tasted like cotton. Uhg.

She swatted at him, but her reactions were all sorts of off and she was really slow so mostly it just plopped against his fedora. And although it had been some sort of attack all it did was make him laugh, hard. "Morning lovely," he told her in between laughs. "Have a good night?"

"Oh, shut up," she muttered, stopping in her scrambles and just sort of plopped back down against her pillows. She pressed the heels of her hands against her closed eyes, groaning. "You're supposed to be dead," she muttered with a groan. "Are you haunting me now?" So perhaps she wasn't entirely awake.

"Dead?" he asked, losing some of the laughter. "Do you know something I don't know?" He figured if someone had it out for him, he'd hear about that before he was supposed to be dead.

"No, I had my soldiers chop your head off." She made a chopping motion with her arm, but it was more of a weird flail than "choppy". Maddy rubbed her eyes some more and took a deep breath through her nose, trying to regain some focus. The light coming in through her window was lighter than it had been when she finally passed out (she thought), so it must be... whatever the day was. She reached out a hand and poked Dodge in the arm. It was solid and warm. So he wasn't dead. Not really. Okay. "How was the party?"

Dodge raised an eyebrow at her. "You had your soldiers chop my head off in a drunken stupor? Any particular reason or was I the only thing on your mind?" He caught her hand in his and rested it on his heart as he shifted so he could sprawl out on her bed. Sighing dramatically he lolled his head to one side. "It was wonderful and horrible at the same time."

"It was horrible because I wasn't there," she grumbled, closing her eyes because if she kept them open any longer, she was going to vomit. The world was much less spinny with her eyes closed. "And I had my soldiers chop you head off because you're a cheeky son of a bitch and I didn't want to get blood on my pretty dress."

"It is a very lovely dress," he told her eying the white gown she had on. "Where exactly did you find this?" He lifted up the edge of the gown in his fingers. "And not just cause you weren't there." Dodge sighed loudly again. "Princess Charming didn't respond as intended."

The dress was satin and silk chiffon with ribbon and beading and something wholly not what Maddy would actually wear in public but she was a Supreme Goddess of the Universe and therefore deserved a pretty dress to rule her subjects with an iron fist and no mercy. "It's from the production of Romeo & Juliet they did in the fall," she answered, eyes still closed. She didn't think about her bare hands, even when she dimly registered the fact that she should really put on her gloves. "And if you yell again, I'm shoving that hat down your throat." So he got turned down. That annoying bit of teenage girl inside of her that had been quieted by the alcohol started to do a little dance.

Dodge chuckled again. "I'm not yelling, Juliet," he said in a stage whisper. "Now why aren't you asking about my plight?" Honestly Dodge wanted to talk about it. He was somewhat curious where he went wrong and he figured that Maddy was someone who would weigh in on the situation.

Maddy swatted his chest halfheartedly. She really didn't want to ask about his "plight", but she was his friend and friends apparently were obligated to do things like that. "What's your plight?" she asked, trying to force some genuine interest into her voice but her head was pounding so Dodge should at least view any sourness in her voice or expression because of her hangover. Bread. She needed bread.

"Princess Charming, I expected her to be excited, and instead she pretty much told me to get lost," he explained. Most of the humor was gone and he actually sounded a little down on his luck. "I don't know what to do. I mean she keeps telling me I'm a kid. Or at least looking at me like I'm one." He sighed again. "My heart is breaking."

"Well, how old is she?" She threaded her fingers, dry and ungloved, through his in an attempt to comfort him. It was not often he sounded so sad or depressed and Maddy didn't like hearing that in his voice. While she was certainly glad Dodge hadn't "scored", it was still depressing to here him so sad.

"Older." It was vague, but Dodge had promised Evie he'd keep her secret and since she was actually from the neighborhood and not just some uptown broad, he intended to keep details as vague as possible. "But not ridiculously older. Just older." He let her take his hand, lifting hers to press the back of it against his cheek.

Maddy stroked the back of her index finger against his cheek, sighing and opened her eyes. "Older women aren't really that inclined to go for younger guys, Dodge." She was being honest with him, not trying to crush his hopes and dreams or something. "It's not how the world works. Women are supposed to be the objects and ornaments of men their age or older." Not that Maddy knew for sure or anything. It just came from observing those who attended the theaters with their mistresses and beaus and husbands and wives. "And if she thinks your a kid or tells you or whatever, then not much is going to change her mind unless you suddenly grow bulging muscles, a beard, and another foot." She looked at him, hungover, bleary eyed, and tired, but forced a twitch of a smile on her face. "And I don't think that's gonna happen, Dodgy Dodger."

"I beg to differ on that part, some women are quite fond of younger men." He didn't elaborate because he didn't have to. There had been others, none for too long but he'd been successful before. Just never with Evie, despite years of trying. Dodge sighed again, wondering if perhaps Maddy was right, that he didn't have a chance. But she had looked at him twice, even though she'd still pulled away hadn't she? Dodge wasn't even sure if he remembered it correctly anymore. He was sure on one thing though, he'd invested his heart in this one and he'd have to see it out. "But can't it? Besides the beard and the muscles or whatever, there's got to be another way, to make her see. I mean come on," he said with haughtiness that didn't quite fill the statement. "There's plenty that's attractive about me."

She shrugged, unsure of how to reply to that. "For a boy, I guess," she settled on saying instead. "Sometimes you just can't make people see what's in front of them because maybe they're already seeing what's in front of them and it isn't what they want. Have you thought about that?" She kept stroking his cheek, eyes half closed as her headache pounded. "Maybe she really isn't that interested in you, Dodge. And that's her loss. And maybe someday she'll realize it." Because Dodge was a catch. For a boy anyway. Uhg. Her head hurt.

That hurt, what she was saying. It didn't mean he would give up until Evie told him point blank that he didn't have a chance, but it still hurt to hear that she just might not like him back. So much that it sailed over his head that Maddy might be talking about someone in particular. Instead it just drifted to him as hypothetical. "I don't want to wait for someday," he mumbled, leaning into her touch.

Despite her pounding head, Maddy shifted up on the pillows a little bit, tugging Dodge over so he could lay his head on her shoulder like he did for her. "Life's tough, Dodge. You know that. We can't always get what we want, even if we're fucking amazing." She wasn't talking about their relationship. She meant getting enough to eat. A roof over your head. It was just a simple fact of life. If Maddy wanted, she knew she could be somewhere warmer and more comfortable than this place, but it meant selling every piece of herself to get it and no one owned Maddy. With her free hand, she reached blindly at the side of the bed, grabbing a half empty bottle of whiskey and offered it over to him.

He nestled against her shoulder, fedora still in place. He didn't like her logic. His whole lifestyle was based on being able to get whatever he wanted with ease and here she was telling him he'd have to let this one go. Of course the advice would be ignored, but in the back of his mind he realized that when it didn't go as planned he was going to wind up with a very broken heart. Without hesitation he took the bottle and a small swig. It was really still too early for booze, but she'd offered. Which reminded him of something he should have asked earlier. "So tell me darling, why exactly did you get piss drunk last night?"

Maddy shrugged. "Just a mood," she muttered evasively. Because I didn't have a voodoo doll of you made to stab. "What? I have to get permission to get drunk? Oh, that's right, because you're my grand protector. Should I be on guard on having you're possessive, skinny ass kidnapping me again. Unless that really is Roy's job. He didn't say." Her meeting with Roy had been short, intense, and informative. But she'd allow the ass to explain himself before she ripped in to him.

Dodge lifted his head from her shoulder and eyed her closely. "Just a mood and you pound more liquor than a cop on his night off? I don't believe you." He had to roll his eyes at the next comment though. "I'm not going to kidnap you again, unless you want me to. And I doubt Roy is either. He's Roy and he's in a funk. He almost bit my head off for trying to have some fun with him." And for scolding him for standing in the rain for no good reason. "Maddy, princess," he addressed her, taking her face in his hands. "What's wrong?"

"That's because Roy is the more serious kind of guy," she said instead of answering his question. She met his eyes, an unreadable but very annoyed and bitter expression clouded her own and she pulled his hands away from her face. "And you are certainly trying on some days, Dodgy Dodgerson. I wish you two would get along better." She took the whiskey bottle away from him and looked at it for a moment before taking a healthy swig. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was one of the reasons (albeit a large one, but he was a convenient focus for her anger).

She was mad at herself more than anything though. Mad at herself for being unable to find Jack. Mad at herself for wishing a stupid, annoying boy would like her as much as he liked some other stupid girl who wasn't even interested in him.

"Roy and I get on fine, he's just got issues and if he's in a mood then he doesn't want to deal with me." Dodge opted not to explain that the reason they'd fought was because Dodge was worried about Roy. For some reason it didn't make sense to say out loud. Call it guy pride. Not it was his turn to take the bottle away. Although he realized that the booze might help with the hangover, her starting over again probably wasn't a good idea. After putting the bottle down, away from her he reached out for her again, smoothing his thumb along the edge of her hairline. "Doll, tell me what's going on."

He was always doing that, touching to distract or to flirt, and Maddy's head was absolutely pounding and she reached up and batted his hand away. "Stress," she opted for an excuse. "I've been stressed and needed to wind down and my usual choices were unavailable." She wanted him to drop it and she wanted to be left alone and hoped that he was getting the message. No. Getting the message and heeding it.

Dodge did drop it but he looked hurt. "Okay," he told her, but it was obvious he didn't believe her. Shifting he made to get up. "I should probably let you go back to nursing that hangover then."

Yes, please leave so I can order you to death properly this time. She nodded and grabbed another pillow to put under her head. "Hey, Dodge?"

Sliding off the bed smoothly he was already making towards the door when she called him back. "Yea princess?" he asked, pausing and looking back at her.

"Do you want me to go give that girl a piece of my mind for turning you down?" Uhg, why was she offering that? Oh, right, because Dodge was her friend and she cared about him. Stupid conscious and needing to be on God's good side so he did what she wanted.

Smiling Dodge crossed the room again, leaning down to press a light kiss on top of her head. "Thanks, but I think I got it under control." He did appreciate it, that she would be willing to do that for him, even if he didn't need it. Despite the blow off he hadn't given up on Evie just yet.

"Suit yourself," she said and turned over, her back to him and buried her face in the pillows to go back to bed.