The Perv and the Prude

Who: Hannah and Lucius
Where: The Beacon Hotel
When: Around 1:30PM

"Fuck you! All I wanna know is if he's alive or dead or what!"

"He is a client, and I can't give out his number without his permission."

"He's my friend, motherfucker!"

"Miss, please watch your language."

"I'll say whatever the fuck I want, asswipe."

"I don't have to stand here and take this."

"Sure you don't, you can give me his fucking room number, and I'll leave you the hell alone!"

Hannah was standing in the lobby of the Beacon Hotel, she was pissed, and she was yelling at the top of her considerable lungs at the lobby clerk who refused to give her Lucius's goddamn room number. She was sure he was just doing it out of spite, rather than any actual rule that said he couldn't. He just didn't like her. He was just a fucking cuntmuncher who was being fucking stubborn. That had to be it.

Getting out of town for a bit was the plan, but once he'd realized that his cell phone was dead and his charger was still in his room at the Beacon House, Lucius borrowed Marlowe's car to retrieve it and some clean clothes before the trip. Climbing out of the car and walking towards the door, he could make out the sounds of screaming and judging by the f-bombs the girl in question was dropping, he knew who it was before he even entered the building. "Hannah!" he said, shoving the door open. "Hannah, hey..."

He turned to the man behind the counter. "Look, sorry about this, she's with me." he told him and reached for the girls arm, leading her away from the desk and in the direction of his room. "Do you constantly walk around assaulting peoples eardrums with your vocals?" he questioned as they made their way down the hall.

"And you-- huh? Lu! Hey, dude. What's-- hey!" She nearly got pulled off her feet by the tug to her arm, but she recovered, stumbled a step, and followed after him. "Well, he wouldn't give me your room number!" she complained. "Figured I was some sort of stalker or something. Or petty thief. As if." Though she had stolen a few things in her time-- but she seriously, seriously doubted Lucius had anything worth stealing, much less worth stealing for her crowd of clients.

He shook his head. "So instead of like being really polite and pretending to be my visiting sister or something you decided jumping down his throat would get my room number?" he said with a laugh, releasing her arm as they reached the door. "Why'd you need my room number anyway?" he questioned. He unlocked the door and shoved it open, flicking the light switch on and letting her enter ahead of him.

"Beeeecause you weren't answering your texts," Hannah said, as if it should be obvious. "Well, and I wanted to see for myself you weren't in eighteen different pieces somewhere in some gutter." She looked over her shoulder and made a face. "And I can't pretend I'm your sister. He'd never have fallen for it. I lie like shit. Like rotten, stinking shit. So I have to rely on temper." Which she had in spades.

He laughed at that and shut the door, pulling his phone from his pocket. "Phone's been dead for a while now I'm guessing. That's why I'm here. Had to pick up my charger and some clothes." he tossed the phone on the bed and began rummaging through his dresser for some clothes to bring with him back to Marlowe's. "But I'm not dead, made it through yesterday surprisingly, aside from nearly getting run over by a speeding car and having a friend attacked by some shadows oh and I can't forget about Marlowe nearly biting it in the hospital room bathroom." He shook his head.

"Shit, sounds pretty damn exciting," Hannah deadpanned, dropping herself onto the bed and sitting cross-legged while she watched him. She dropped the mock-serious tone and expression, donning something more real, and asked, "Your friend and your girl okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah, Mar only got a gash across her shoulder. Ivan on the other hand... Well he's alive. He was fighting off shadows all morning and by the time I got to his house he was pretty banged up. We took him to the hospital and he got a freaking shit load of stitches." He sighed. "How's your friend doin?" he questioned. He stuffed some clothes into his duffel bag and walked over to the nightstand to grab the phone charger.

Hannah had seen enough of that the day before to know exactly what he was talking about, people so cut up they looked like mince-meat. She sighed, too, sympathetically and angrily both. "Those fuckers," she muttered. Attacking innocent people... it just made her so mad. "What? Oh, Chance? He's fine. He did really well, actually. I think I got more war-wounds than he did, the past few days. We spent all of yesterday out clearing out the neighborhood around his house." Of injured and dead, as well as shadows, to the best of their ability. It had been a really fucking long day.

He nodded. "The hospital was packed." he told her. "By the time we got Ivan there, all you could see were injured people everywhere. Bleeding, crying, screaming." He shook his head at the thought of it. "And then this morning the shadows just fucking up and disappear. What the hell is up with that?" he questioned as he plopped down beside her on the bed. "Did they get bored or something?"

"Who the fuck knows," Hannah grumbled. "I'm glad they're gone-- I don't think this town coulda taken much more-- but shit, dude. Maybe that's it, maybe they thought if they stayed any longer, they'd break the town. Or something. Fuck, I just want to tear every last one apart. They attacked innocents. That's fucked up and wrong." Yeah. Angry. She was even clutching at the bedspread and glaring in the direction of the bathroom, though she wasn't sure if there was still a mirror there or not.

He glanced over at her, his line of vision trailing down to her clenched fists around the blanket. He reached over and unclasped her fingers, squeezing her hand lightly. "Hey, Hannah... Chill." he said. "Whatever reason for them leaving, who cares, they're gone okay? I'm not about to sit around and keep questioning it. I'm going to enjoy getting some sleep for once. I probably look like the walking dead."

Looking down at his hand, Hannah forced herself to relax. And, well, not to freeze up. "Sorry," she mumbled, squeezing his hand back awkwardly before extracting her fingers again and rubbing both hands together. "Maybe lack of sleep and surfeit of fighting is bothering me, too." And hurting. She was pretty damn good at ignoring pain, after so long as a hunter, but it was still there, and she did have half- and less-than-half-healed cuts on various parts of her body. "It just pisses me off, is all."

He nodded, completely understanding the 'lack of sleep' comment. "I'm surprised my body is still functioning. I feel like I'm on autopilot." He offered a smile and a slight shrug. "And I only helped out like one person, I know you're probably ready to pass out now. But I'm sure a lot of people around town are really grateful to have such a vulgar mouthed warrior running around slaying all their demons." he teased. He moved his hand to her chin, giving it a nudge upward. "Keep your head up, people in Marquette can't deal with unhappy TNT." he smirked and gave her a wink.

"Cut that out, Mister Charming," Hannah laughed, swatting at his hand when he nudged her. "No wonder you got a girl two days into town. Shithead." But the insult was affectionate, in her own weird way. "You did what you could, dude. It's the desire that counts, the intention." Sort of. Sometimes. Hannah still felt that sullen, slightly-guilty gnawing in the pit of her stomach, thinking of the old couple they'd come across, huddled together on the bed, both bodies carved up like cake on a birthday. But Lu had meant to go out... the fact that he'd been sidetracked by almost getting run over and by one really fucked up friend was beside the point. "And I dunno," she shrugged off the compliment with an awkward grin, "I think some of them were kinda pissed at me. Got into a screaming match with one or two of 'em for barging in or near-misses or whatever."

"Well, I'm sure they'll be thinking a lot differently when they see the death tolls on the news." he told her. "My guess is there are a lot of people alive right now that wouldn't be if you weren't around." He held his hand out in front of him and the phone he'd tossed up on the bed shot into it. "So, you texted me and since I didn't answer you rushed over here to make sure I wasn't dead huh?" he questioned with a laugh. "How sweet, Han, you were worried about me." he teased.

Glad to be off the subject of how great she supposedly was, Hannah seized on it-- until he started calling her sweet. Hannah rolled her eyes. "I'm just made of sugar and light, aren't I, sweetcheeks," she said, with an exaggerated southern accent. "Yeah," she continued in her normal accent, "I was worried, actually. I hadn't heard from you in a while. Besides, I wanted to see if the attacks had stopped where you were, too. And now I know they have."

He rolled his eyes. "That fake accent better not have been a mock at mine." he told her with a smirk. "I might not be so great at that British one, but I think I've got my southern twang down pat." he laughed. "But yeah, no more going MIA because now I've got this handy dandy little phone charger. Seems like I've got this really protective friend who worries about me when I don't respond." he said, continuing with his playful teasing.

"Would I make fun of you?" Hannah asked with a far-too-innocent expression. She could do mocking "lies", because you weren't supposed to believe them. "Never! Where could you get that idea!"

He laughed. "You're really something." he told her. "Not exactly sure what that something is, but something none the less." He shook his head a bit. "So, what do you have planned for the day?" he queried. "I mean with all the shadows gone, looks like your schedule is a lot more open."

Looking smug that she got a laugh, and a "compliment" that wasn't really a compliment and that she could take however she pleased rather than getting flustered, Hannah said, "Getting food is next on the to-do list. Then I'm making the rounds around town to see how the damage is." She might even swing around the hospital; she was sure she could get a good "meal" there. "Then I'm due back at Chance's. I promised I'd help him clean up. His place is a fucking mess. What about you?"

"Well, after this I'm gonna head back towards Marlowe's house. We're gonna get outta Marquette for a day or so. The whole time we've been together has been practically nothing but a slew of paranormal events and near death experiences. Figured we could use some 'normal time'. Did you drive here?" he asked. "If not I can always give you a ride somewhere." His care about yourself attitude was quickly disappearing the longer he stayed in this town. He stood from the bed and made sure he hadn't missed anything he was planning on bringing with him on his trip.

"The Bronco's outside, I'm good," Hannah said, hopping to her feet, too, and squashing the desire to wince as the cut in her leg protested. She could take it, dammit, take it and smile. "So where you and Marlowe going, then? Someplace fancy, or just anywhere that's not here?"

He shrugged. "I honestly have no idea where we're going. Don't really care I guess. I'm just ready to have a day with her where there are no surprises, no shadows, no cars trying to run me over, no crazy Marquette people... no offense." he said with a teasing smile. "I think everyone in this town could use a day or two away. And I think you, Miss Hannah, could use a little sleep."

"Hey, I ain't even a Marquette person," Hannah said, holding up her hands innocently. "I'm just passin' through and cleanin' things up while I'm here. So no offense taken." As for sleep, she knew he was right, but she had a while to go before she got to that again. Maybe she and Chance could get a head start on the cleaning, and then they wouldn't be up too late trying to finish it... that sounded like a good idea. Chance would probably be all for it, if he wasn't going to be at his girlfriend's all fucking day. Which, actually, he might well. "Fuck," she muttered, running a hand over her hair, "we all could use a little sleep, I think...."

"I know that's right." he agreed with a nod. "I feel like I could just sleep for days. It's not like anyone got any sleep the last few nights. I mean even when I did get sleep it wasn't like it was very good anyway, not with all the crap about shadows running through my head." He shook the thought away. "Well, at least we'll get some sleep tonight. It'll be nice not to have to wake up at five in the morning to slay fucking demons. And with work starting on Monday I really need to get back into the swing of things." The last part was definitely true. He couldn't exactly put his best efforts in at the garage if he was running on no sleep.

"Oh, finally starting your job after all this shit, huh?" Hannah chuckled. "You gonna be up for it? Think your boss will even be there?" She had a feeling he'd get a lot of people needing mirrors and windows repaired, honestly, if his garage did that sort of thing. At least he wouldn't be getting to replace her mirrors. Probably one of something like three cars in town he wouldn't have to on....

He shrugged. "I don't know if the Burke's will be there or not, but Reno had her dad haven't called me to say not to come in, so I guess I'll just have to show up and find out. Hell, I doubt they can afford to not be open, I know there are tons of cars needing some serious help after all this shadow shit." Hell at least one person he knew of had crashed her car because of shadows. He assumed that if she had had problems that other people had too. "I'll be up for it though, as long as I get some sleep this weekend."

"Oh, I'm sure you will," Hannah smirked. "Among other things." As she firmly expected Marlowe and Lucius to spent a lot of time... not sleeping. Lucky bastards. Maybe this was another reason she didn't normally collect friends: watching them get lucky.

He let out a laugh and pointed a finger at her. "Ya know, for a girl you really think a lot like a boy. God you're a perv!" he teased giving her shoulder a playful shove.

"What the fuck, man," Hannah protested, laughing. "It's true, ain't it? You're gonna get on with Marlowe while you're gone. Duh. I would, if I were you guys. How is stating the truth being a fucking perv, huh?" She elbowed him, grinning; she wasn't really upset or offended, though admittedly the double-standard sometimes got to her. Men could be as raunchy as they wanted, but a woman starts talking about sex, and suddenly she's a perv-- definitely unfair, in her opinion. Right then, though, she was just joking around with him; it wasn't his fault, and she'd already gotten her share of pissy out of the way for the hour. She'd rather tease that shout.

A crimson flush ran across his face and he shook his head. "I am so not having this conversation with you." he said sitting back down beside her. "And maybe you're not a perv, but you are really blunt about it." he teased. "I mean you seriously all but said 'hey are you gonna screw Marlowe?' Are you sure you shouldn't have been born a boy?" he questioned, turning his head towards her.

"Don't see any reason not to be honest and out there about it," Hannah shrugged, more serious now. "I mean, it's just sex. Everybody does it. And you're not the first person to wonder that, you know-- whether I ought to have been born a boy." She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "I even look the part, if you're talking a twelve year old boy. But really, for being so up in arms about how pervy and not-girl-like I am, you're not being very boy-like. Most boys I know would be bragging, not blushing." Which was an exaggeration, really-- Chance didn't brag so much, for example. But a goodly number of boys did, particularly family. She prodded him, grinning again.

He laughed and ran his hand across his face, covering it for a moment before letting his fingertips drop, resting his hand on his knee. "I'm not one to kiss and tell." he told her. "And even if I was, I doubt you'd want to sit around and listen to me talk about my sex life anyway. And if you're as much like a boy as you think and everyone else thinks, then shouldn't you be the one that should be bragging? I mean boys brag right? So Hannah, the boy in a girls body should brag. Or are you too busy slaying evil to get any hot nasty sex?" he teased.

"There's nothing nasty about sex," Hannah said firmly. "Unless you're into kinkier shit than me." And really, what was with people getting into conversations about sex with her today? This was the second one. Now all she had to do was go back to Chance's and have him be all afterglowy and it would put the cap on the day. Fuck. Maybe she really did need to get laid. She made a face, a little embarrassed to admit, "It's been a few years, actually. So yeah, not a lot to brag about right now."

"Years?!" he questioned, his voice a bit more high pitched that he'd meant for it to be, making it clear that the admission surprised him. "You've gone years without having sex? Why? I mean I know girls don't have to have it or whatever, but years? That's ridiculous. As soon as I get back from my out of town adventure, I'm finding someone for you. New goal in life, get Hannah laid." he teased.

"I don't like fucking one-night stands, and relationships and me don't fucking get along," Hannah grumbled, even more embarrassed now that he was making a big deal about it. One night stands meant potential danger for herself or them, a person she didn't care about and who didn't care about her, and who she'd have to explain all the scars to. Guys didn't usually like scars on girls. For all she was bold and brazen and forthright, Hannah was also surprisingly self-conscious about those scars. Someone who cared about her could look past that; random strangers she didn't trust to do the same. "So you can try, but don't expect a lot of success."

"Maybe I just need to get a guy for you that is just as angsty and has all those killer instincts. I must look around and find someone to fit this description. Maybe you'd be a little more friendly if you got laid." he teased. "Clear up some of your aggravation if you got that release." he smirked.

Hannah's mouth fell open in a genuine, if embarrassedly amused, affront. "I am not angsty!" she exclaimed. The rest she couldn't argue with-- though really, she wasn't all that much more friendly otherwise, anyway, if she was even any-- but the description of angsty applied to her just wasn't right! "You take that back." She gave him a little shove.

"Hey! You better watch that." he said with a smirk. "I'm gonna have to tell Marlowe that you're 'hitting' on me. I just can't take that abuse." he laughed and gave her a playful shove back. "And for your information you are angsty. Hell I half expect you to sit around with a notebook scribbling of your inner torment." he joked.

"You little shit!" Hannah cried, though it was more dramatic now than serious. "I'll give you 'hitting on', you little--" And she pounced him, quite literally aiming to push him over onto the bed, and started half-hitting and half-tickling fiercely, not enough to hurt, really, but definitely enough to be felt.

He was a bit taken by surprise at her jumping on him. It only took a minute or two however for him to over power her and flip her over on the bed, holding her arms pinned to the blanket. "Give up?" he questioned letting out a little laugh. "You might as well give up now, seriously... I mean if you had a weapon on you, you might win, but hand to hand tickle wars, that's a totally different thing."

"All I gotta do," Hannah said with a sweet smile, after giving up on the struggling-- she was surprisingly strong for her size, but he was a lot bigger than her, "is get a knee up, and that's the end of you. So you wanna let go now?"

He made a face of realization and nodded. "Good point." he said, releasing her hands and returning to a sitting position. "I'm afraid I value my private parts a little too much to let you take them out with your knee." he laughed. "Besides I might need them this weekend." he tacked on.

"See? I knew you would," Hannah said triumphantly, sitting up again and ignoring the fact that she thought she'd just broken open one or two of the cuts on her arms. Fuck. Grinning instead, ruffling at his hair with one hand, she added, "I just wanted you to admit it. You may think I'm a perv, but I think you're a prude." It was an insult meant in jest and affection, of course, just because he got so blushy and closed-mouthed about things.

He shook his head and laughed. "You're a strange one." he teased. "And I am not a prude. I just don't go around telling anyone about who and what I do behind closed doors. Do you go around talking about your sexcapades?" he questioned with a smirk. "Do you like video tape them and go over them play by play with your friends?" he joked.

"When did I say that's what I wanted from you?" Hannah snorted at him. "A simple 'damn straight' when I said you'd be gettin' busy would've sufficed, but instead you got all huffy. So--" She grinned at him. "--prude." Waving a hand, she brushed it off. "But whatever. You should probably get off to your woman. Wouldn't want her thinking you were off pinning other girls to beds, after all." And now she was just going at him for the reaction, and it showed in her mischievous look.

He opened his mouth to speak, but instead let out a sound of surprise at what she'd said. "I..." he began. He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Fine, damn straight, most likely I will be doing... stuff this weekend besides sleeping. And yeah... I probably should get back to Mar." he agreed. "Come on, I'll walk you to your car... perv." He laughed as he got up from the bed and grabbed his duffel bag.

Hannah snickered, getting up and clapping him on the back amiably. "You got it, dude. Let's go." He was just too much fun to tease.