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[ghostthatlingers]

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"You've reached Tex. Say what you need and I'll get back to you."

 

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[ghostthatlingers]

"What the hell did you call me? Sweetcheeks?" She almost misses the counter when she slams her glass back down. Yeah, she's going to take a little intermission before going for that second shot he poured. She's starting to feel the burn and Jesus Christ, is the floor moving?

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Whoa!" He laughs, reaching out a hand to steady her arm. "Hell yeah, sweetcheeks. Sugarplum? Honeybunsssss~?"

[ghostthatlingers]

Keeping up with her drinking is the last thing he'll have to worry about if he keeps this up. She narrows her eyes and swats his hand away. "Quit being a sappy dumbass."

[motherfucking_ghost]

Nope, he is going to keep up. Hey, want another shot? Because he does. Not slowing down, are you?

"Sappy?" There might be the hint of a twang slipping into his voice where there previously was none. "Oh my darling rose of Texas, I'm just trying to piss you off. Sounds like it's working."

[ghostthatlingers]

She might have gotten more mad if she weren't acutely aware of the slight accent. It's subtle, but having just spoken to the Director a night ago, it's hard not to compare the two.

There's a slight moment of hesitation before she downs the next shot, needing it for entirely different reasons now. That tinsy little change to his voice should not sound that hot. "Now you sound like an asshole, too."

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Like that's any different from how I always sound." He points to himself, empty glass curled in hand. If he's aware of the accent likewise curling around his words, he hasn't given any indication of it. "Leonard Church, professional asshole."

[ghostthatlingers]

"You've got one of those stupid... things that changes how you sound." Her hand waves vaguely in the direction of his mouth as she tries to find the damn word for that. What the hell are they called again?

[motherfucking_ghost]

He's going to try catching her hand and kissing her fingertips, voice more Texan than ever across them. "Pretty sure that's called tequila. Maybe you two are acquainted."

[ghostthatlingers]

"Tequila makes you sound like a cowboy?" she asks flatly. She might be tipsy as fuck (okay, about borderline drunk as the alcohol really hits her), but she's pretty sure that's not possible.

[motherfucking_ghost]

"The fuck are you talking about?" How about one more shot. Can you do one more shot, Tex? He can do one more shot.

[ghostthatlingers]

"You. You sound like a damn cowboy." What part of that is so hard to understand? It makes perfect sense to her. And she's just going to ignore that shot for a minute.

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Well then yeehaw, lil' missy. Maybe it's time to save a horse and ride a cowboy. Shoulda picked up some boots to knock."

[ghostthatlingers]

She's laughing, the kind of laugh that she's not sure how it started and there's no end in sight. Whether it was the ridiculous words coming out of his mouth or the way he said it, something set her off.

[motherfucking_ghost]

"See! See now that's a line!" Well if you're not having that shot, he's having that shot. Ha.

[ghostthatlingers]

She needs to calm the fuck down before she even thinks about taking that shot otherwise it will end up all over the floor. Once the laughter slowly subsides, she fiddles the glass in her hands. Why yes, she might be stalling. "Oh yeah, you've got me real wet now."

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Well take off your pants and we'll see about that." Lewd grin is lewd.

[ghostthatlingers]

She leans in and smirks. "You wish." And down goes the shot.

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Aw, don't be like that." 'That' might also mean a little bit blurry on the edges. Grip that bottle tight, Church.

[ghostthatlingers]

She's just gonna slide the shot glass away from her and lean against the counter. Heavily. It really makes a great support. That much tequila at once? Worst idea she's had yet but damn if it didn't feel good going down.

[motherfucking_ghost]

"You done? You done?" Fuck hold on he's actually going to take a small swig right from the bottle and raise his arms in victory! And wobble a little and put everything down. "I'm gonna fuck you like nothing else. When the feeling of...feeling comes back."

[ghostthatlingers]

"Shut the fuck up." There has to be some loophole so he doesn't win two bets in one day. She shuts her eyes tightly in hopes that it'll ground her for at least a second of clarity. "Bet's only good for tonight."

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Nuh-uh. No way. You don't get to keep tacking on rules when you already lost. You're the sorest loser. The sorest of all losers." When he goes for the fridge--water? Food? Things that might make all of this a little better. He more falls toward it and catches himself on the handle like nothing even happened. "I'm keeping that. Saving for a rainy day." That southern is just raging through his words now. Oh god. Does he sound worse than Sarge?

[ghostthatlingers]

He's really talking too much. Way, way too much. Yet, she's not finding she minds too much so long as the accent stays there. She's not moving an inch and only opens her eyes just enough to peek over at him. "How about you just fuck me already?" A worse idea than it sounds.

[motherfucking_ghost]

"...Seriously?"

Hold on. Hold on, wait, he has to just blink at her. "Seriously?"

Tex tends to be serious, but she had better be serious about sex. "Fuck yeah. C'mere. Don't fall. Floor? Floor. Flat place for fucking."

[ghostthatlingers]

"No, you come here." She is not moving, not without some support because shit, the tequila has hit hard.

Slowly, she hooks her thumbs into the sides of her sweat pants and gets them down over her hips. She's not wearing any underwear because what's the point of that when she's in her own home? Sure makes things easier, though she's having trouble with getting it down further with the counter pressed against her.