Adam Monroe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
changehistory) wrote2008-08-07 10:07 am
changehistory) wrote2008-08-07 10:07 am
[FM] - August - Do you need a lawyer?
1965
His head hurt. It was a sensation he hadn't felt in a while, so Adam leaned back against the cold cement wall and closed his eyes to savor it for a moment. Just a moment, though, because it was quickly apparent that a throbbing head needed to go back under the list of "not good pains." With his eyes closed, the bench under him seemed to have transformed into a roller coaster, lifting him up and throwing him down, his stomach dropping at the sensation.
"I think," he said, eyes still closed, "That I am drunk."
"I wouldn't doubt it, I know I am," the voice next to him said dryly, and Adam opened one eye to meet Daniel's.
"How much did we drink?"
"I have no idea, though I think you went through at least two bottles."
"Oh..." He hadn't done that in a while. Hadn't felt the need to, until the announcement this morning, the realization that he had pushed too far, gotten what he wanted far too thoroughly--so well done that it wasn't what he'd wanted at all, really. Be careful what you wish for, indeed. Daniel hadn't been much more pleased, really, as he recalled. Thus, their present circumstances.
"My head hurts," he announced.
"Can't you heal it?"
"I'm trying," he huffed, "But I think it's the alcohol wearing off. It used to do this..."
"Quick drunk followed by quicker hangover? Cheater." Daniel sounded disgruntled.
Adam opened his eyes again and studied Daniel's face. "You're going to have a nasty bruise."
"Yes, well, some of us don't walk away from your bad ideas as unscathed as you do."
"It wasn't a bad idea!"
"She had a boyfriend twice your size, who had four friends just as large," Daniel pointed out.
Adam shrugged slightly and closed his eyes again. "Where are they?"
He heard Daniel sigh. "In another cell down the hall. They wanted us separated."
"Right." The buzz was definitely gone, his body working overtime to sort itself out.
"You, Monroe." The guard's words were still a bit loud with the hangover having him in his grip. "You want your phone call?"
He didn't, particularly, but he glanced at Daniel. "Any idea how much damage we did?"
"You broke more than a few of their bones before the police arrived, and the bar was a bit decimated. It's possible you stabbed one of them, but that part's hazy."
That was not good. "Right." He sat up with a sigh, and gave the guard a charming smile. "Yes, please."
"Who are you going to call?" Daniel asked, straightening, then sliding back with a gasp. Broken rib, perhaps, Adam assessed. He could fix that as soon as they were out.
"Who do you think?"
The phone rang four times before a breathless voice answered, "Hello?"
"Angela, it's Adam."
"What are you doing? It's two in the morning." Her voice lowered a bit. "Arthur is here."
"Yes, I rather figured he wouldn't be leaving his new bride-to-be's side for a while," Adam said with a scathing tone.
"Don't you dare take that tone with me," she hissed back. "You're the one who..."
"Angela," he interrupted, because the guard was watching the clock. "I only have three minutes."
"What? Where are you?" she sounded confused, and, he liked to think, a bit concerned.
"Daniel and I are in jail," he said with a sigh, and then added the words he really didn't want to say, all things considered. "We're going to need Arthur's help."
His head hurt. It was a sensation he hadn't felt in a while, so Adam leaned back against the cold cement wall and closed his eyes to savor it for a moment. Just a moment, though, because it was quickly apparent that a throbbing head needed to go back under the list of "not good pains." With his eyes closed, the bench under him seemed to have transformed into a roller coaster, lifting him up and throwing him down, his stomach dropping at the sensation.
"I think," he said, eyes still closed, "That I am drunk."
"I wouldn't doubt it, I know I am," the voice next to him said dryly, and Adam opened one eye to meet Daniel's.
"How much did we drink?"
"I have no idea, though I think you went through at least two bottles."
"Oh..." He hadn't done that in a while. Hadn't felt the need to, until the announcement this morning, the realization that he had pushed too far, gotten what he wanted far too thoroughly--so well done that it wasn't what he'd wanted at all, really. Be careful what you wish for, indeed. Daniel hadn't been much more pleased, really, as he recalled. Thus, their present circumstances.
"My head hurts," he announced.
"Can't you heal it?"
"I'm trying," he huffed, "But I think it's the alcohol wearing off. It used to do this..."
"Quick drunk followed by quicker hangover? Cheater." Daniel sounded disgruntled.
Adam opened his eyes again and studied Daniel's face. "You're going to have a nasty bruise."
"Yes, well, some of us don't walk away from your bad ideas as unscathed as you do."
"It wasn't a bad idea!"
"She had a boyfriend twice your size, who had four friends just as large," Daniel pointed out.
Adam shrugged slightly and closed his eyes again. "Where are they?"
He heard Daniel sigh. "In another cell down the hall. They wanted us separated."
"Right." The buzz was definitely gone, his body working overtime to sort itself out.
"You, Monroe." The guard's words were still a bit loud with the hangover having him in his grip. "You want your phone call?"
He didn't, particularly, but he glanced at Daniel. "Any idea how much damage we did?"
"You broke more than a few of their bones before the police arrived, and the bar was a bit decimated. It's possible you stabbed one of them, but that part's hazy."
That was not good. "Right." He sat up with a sigh, and gave the guard a charming smile. "Yes, please."
"Who are you going to call?" Daniel asked, straightening, then sliding back with a gasp. Broken rib, perhaps, Adam assessed. He could fix that as soon as they were out.
"Who do you think?"
The phone rang four times before a breathless voice answered, "Hello?"
"Angela, it's Adam."
"What are you doing? It's two in the morning." Her voice lowered a bit. "Arthur is here."
"Yes, I rather figured he wouldn't be leaving his new bride-to-be's side for a while," Adam said with a scathing tone.
"Don't you dare take that tone with me," she hissed back. "You're the one who..."
"Angela," he interrupted, because the guard was watching the clock. "I only have three minutes."
"What? Where are you?" she sounded confused, and, he liked to think, a bit concerned.
"Daniel and I are in jail," he said with a sigh, and then added the words he really didn't want to say, all things considered. "We're going to need Arthur's help."