What Happens In Vegas...

Who: Aiden and Manhattan
When: Early morning
Where: Hotel room

The first thing that Aiden noticed when he began to come back to consciousness was the painful throbbing in his head. Hell, in his whole entire face. Everything hurt and it had been a long damn time since he'd gotten a hangover that felt like this. He groaned and squinted against the sunlight trying to stream in past the curtains of the room. "Fuck," he muttered, burying his face back into the pillow. It made the throbbing worst.

All he wanted was a large glass of water. That was it. He shifted just enough to realize he was also naked. What the fuck. Forcing one eye open, he could see the blonde hair next to him and he remembered - more or less - what had happened the night before. He and Manhattan. Vampires. Drinks. Lots and lots of drinks. Gambling. Drinks. Fucking. Drinks. Aiden groaned again. He didn't remember much after the last part of drinks. Sighing, he plopped his head back down on the pillow. He didn't know what time it was and he didn't really care. He'd leave after he was sure sitting up meant he wouldn't be throwing up everywhere. He couldn't remember the last time he'd thrown up after a night of drinking.

"Fuck.."Manhattan groaned, barely audible, as she found herself finally coming around. Not only was there throbbing in her head, but her left eye ached, and her whole body seemed to ache. She tried rising up but all that accomplished was to send things spinning and increase the severity of the throb in her head to send Manhattan slumping back down to burying her face momentarily in the pillow before it was pulled out and over her head. It was then that she felt the slight movement of the bed, a movement that definitely hadn't been cause by her. In a slow roll, a very slow roll to her other side Manhattan peeked out from beneath the pillow to give a squint at her apparent bed partner.

Slowly events of the night before started filtering in. At least bits and pieces her mind would allow her to remember. Aiden. Vampires. A fight. Drinking. Masses amounts of drinking. Gambling, had there been gambling? That area of the night was still a bit fuzzy as was her attempt to recall how much more drinking had taken place after that. The only thing she hadn't had to guess on was the sex part. That part was apparently a given as the guy beside her didn't have a stitch of clothing on, and with the slow realization that she didn't either hitting her. Well she was 99% proof positive that's what happened. Maybe if she was lucky and didn't make any further sudden moves Aiden would eventually get up, dress and leave. She could use a bit more time just laying there unmoving until it wouldn't feel like she was hit with a wave of motion sickness and intense throbbing in her head when she moved even in the slightest of movements. Fuck if she didn't need a large mug of steaming black coffee right now.

Aiden heard her curse and felt the other side of the bed move as she did. He risked opening his eyes again. They were blurry and tired and he lifted a hand to rub it over his face to try and wake up. He rolled onto his back, his hand resting lazily on his chest as he tried to focus in on her. "What the fuck did we do last night?" A stupid question, since it was pretty clear what they did. It seemed both of them were feeling the after effects of it.

All he got in return was incoherent and muffled grumbling from beneath the pillow Manhattan had stuck her head under. The pain throbbing through her head had started to dull, that was until Aiden spoke and Manhattan found herself giving a grumbled reply. She really hoped he didn't want to talk about last night now. Later was a more preferable time for that in her mind, much later. Sleeping her hangover off was all she was wanting to do at the moment.

Despite his own hangover, and the feeling like someone had placed a fifteen ton rock on top of his head, Aiden could still drudge up enough energy to be obnoxious. He reached over with his hand to push at her. "Order some coffee up here, won't ya? You're closer to the phone."

Manhattan grumbled a few obscenities as she shifted just enough to allow her to swat at the antagonizing hand. Figuring though, through the slight haze and throbbing that filled her head, that the only way she would get the coffee that she felt would make her world right again, or at least bring things around to a semblance of it, would be if she got it herself, or at least phone room service to have a pot brought up.

"Bastard." Manhattan hissed lowly as she pulled the pillow off her head to sit up a bit and reach for phone. Her left hand held the phone to her ear as she called and requested coffee, her gaze, narrowed to slits, drifted over to Aiden. "What's the damn number to your room." Room service couldn't bring anything up unless they knew which room to bring it to. And in her drunken stupor last night finding out the number to his room had been, probably, the last thing on her mind.

Room number? He was suppose to know that? He pressed his palms firmly against his eyes to try and ease some of the ache. Room number, room number... fuck. "316," he muttered finally once they came to him. "Get some bottled water too, will you?" He pushed himself up, groaning as he did so. Sheets fell around his waist and he ran a hand through his tousled hair. Glancing over at Manhattan, he took a moment to take in the bare nakedness, because fuck it, he was still a man after all. One who needed a shower now. He started to crawl off the bed, moving slowly to avoid heightening his headache. He didn't really much much of the cheap looking ring on her finger. Not at first. Until he realized he had one on too. On his left hand. The fuck? "Where the fuck did you get that ring?" he asked Manhattan. He was trying to ignore the churning in his stomach.

She verged on telling him to use the cup and faucet in the bathroom if he wanted water, but that would only lead to hearing him talk, and probably louder then was necessary just to aggravate the pounding in her head. So Manhattan just ended up ordering coffee and a couple bottles of water. She hung up just as Aiden started to remove himself from the bed, and just as she started to resettle herself in the bed to steady the feeling in her stomach, and try to reduce the throbbing in her head, his question struck her with confusion. "What ring?" A what the hell are you talking about? look was cast in his direction.

Aiden's shot her an impatient look and reached over to snatch her hand. He hissed briefly, given his entire body protested the movement, and then shoved the hand in her face. "That ring. Wake the fuck up." He held up his own hand. "Looks a bit like mine, don't you think?"

"What the fuck did you do?!" She snarled back much to the major discomfort now raging through her head as Manhattan snatched her hand away. Seeing a ring on her finger was bad enough, but to be shown that he had a matching one on his finger. "If this is your idea of a joke, it is so fucking unfunny it's almost pathetic." She snapped.

"Yeah, you see me laughing?" Aiden snapped, turning to try and find his jeans on the floor. "If I were looking to be funny, I'd have hauled your bare house into the hall and locked you out of my room all night." Bitch. He reached down once he spotted them and closed his eyes. Christ, he might actually be sick. He could still feel the alcohol in his body. Along with this shit? He took a breath to calm down and looked over at her as he started to attempt to pull on his jeans. "Maybe they're just cheap gumball rings that we got and put them on to be funny."

"Nice thought, but this," Manhattan thrust her hand out at him, "isn't some damn piece of flimsy tin." Manhattan shook her head ever so slightly as fingers gently worked the sides of her temple. None of this was helping her feel any better. The head throbbing and stomach churning gave her immediate thoughts of rushing off to the bathroom. Where the fuck was her coffee?!

That just put him in a sour mood all over again. Couldn't she have just agreed with him? Then they could take the stupid things off, throw them away and be on their merry way home and forget the whole thing. "Okay, so what the fuck did you do?" Aiden asked sharply, finding the strength somehow to stand up so he could pull his jeans up to his hips. "Where'd we get them? Because I know we drank a lot, but I know we didn't drink enough to go... do whatever it is this shite implies."

"What did I do?" Manhattan just wanted to grab something and throw it at him. Damn Irish bastard. "Obviously we both ended up so shit faced that I, for a reason way beyond me, allowed you to get us into this mess."

"Okay." Manhattan ran her hands through her hair to try and find some rational explanation to the rings they both now found themselves with. "There's got to be some kind of paperwork, not like we'd just walk away with only these little adornments on our fingers." If they had done what both were thinking had happened then along with the marriage bands there'd have to be a license.

He supposed she had a point. No paperwork equals no... ugh, whatever the fuck happened. Maybe they just stuck them on to get free drinks or some shit. Aiden scratched absently at the think stubble on his chin and started looking around. His stomach protested and he lifted a fist to his mouth. Now was not the time to throw up. Even though he wanted to. Where was the damn coffee and water? "Where the hell would something like that go?" he asked her, patting his jean pockets before glancing at the dresser and table in the room. "God help me, this better just be some sick joke you dreamed up last night." Panic was really beginning to set in.

"I'm sure if you think on it long enough it'll come back to you just where misplaced it." Manhattan moved slowly toward the edge of the bed to sit up. She couldn't, didn't want to, think about that or anything else at the moment. All it would end up doing is hurt her head more then it did now. And anyway, he had gotten them into this mess, he could damn well unfix it on his own. Pushing up from the bed Manhattan stood a full couple seconds before falling back to sit on the bed. So not a good idea. A hand rubbed the side of her face before sliding through her hair as a wave of nausea rocked through her along with an increase throb through her head. After the pausing of a moment Manhattan attempted to stand again, this time accomplishing the feat a bit better then the last. "Don't even think of pinning this on me. You're the one that was looking to have a really good time last night, not me." Manhattan shot back as she moved with slow steps around the room to collect her scattered clothing and head for the bathroom.

"Fuck that," Aiden snapped, rubbing his palm against his eye again before he began to search for his t-shirt and jacket. "You were more than willing to have a good time with me, sweetheart." Too bad he couldn't remember the supposed good time. After moving some discarded sheets and a pillow from the floor, Aiden found his shirt. He lifted it and tugged it on with ease as not to upset his stomach further. He needed aspirin. Aspirin and tall glass of water. And then a coffee. And a cigarette. His jacket was strewn across the back of the chair by desk and he reached into it's pockets, finding his cigarettes, his keys and a lighter. The inside pocket had a folded piece of paper which made his stomach sink lower. He pulled it out, unfolded it and read it.

After a second, he turned and walked to the bathroom, pounding loudly on the door. The noise irritated his headache, but he was mostly doing it to annoy her.

With a close of her eyes Manhattan braced herself against the door for a good, long handful of seconds after she had gotten it shut. The headache she carried felt like it was on the brink of bursting, and her stomach? She really wasn't wanting to think about that. With a deep inhale of breath and a slow step Manhattan made it over to the sink. After setting her clothes down, hands set to the edge of the sink as she stared at her reflection in the mirror a long moment. What the fuck happened last night? With a faint groan Manhattan turned the water on to splash a bit of water on her face.

She had barely slipped into her jeans, and fit her shirt on, when the sound of a fist pounding on the door seemed to reverberate within the small room. It not only annoyed the hell out of her, but it intensified the pain in her head, which had seemed to have fallen to a dull throb. A long second later the door jerked open, Manhattan now stood in the doorway hitting Aiden with a 'if looks could kill' style glare.

Aiden smirked, though it held absolutely no humor. He thrust the paper at her, thinking if the water and coffee didn't make it up to their room in the next five minutes, he was probably going to have to march downstairs and cause a very angry scene. "Get your arse moving, Mrs. Quinlan, we have some shit to take care of." What the fuck happened last night? What the hell did he do? Even in his most drunken stupor he would have never agreed to marry her. Or anyone. Even as a fucking joke.

"The sooner, the better." Manhattan returned stalely as she pushed past him. That single paper document was a matter Manhattan wanted handled expeditiously. She didn't want to be Mrs. Quinlan any longer then was possibly necessary. Hell she hadn't want to be Mrs. Quinlan to begin with, didn't want to be Mrs. Anybody for that matter. Ever.

Just after she found her boots and settled at the edge of the disheveled bed there came a knock at the door and the announcement that room service had arrived. Thank god. She grumbled silently as she eased into her boots before rising slowly to head over to the door.

"You seem to be taking this awfully well," Aiden told her, slightly suspicious. "Like you're not fucking surprised at all. Do you remember anything from last night?" He set the paper down on the night table and began to tug the ring off his fingers, because it didn't fucking belong there.

Manhattan didn't say anything until she recieved the room service, paid the man and then closed the door. The tray set down on the nearest flat surface before she turned back toward Aiden. "I"m taking this too calmly for liking?" She glared at him. "I don't remember what the fuck happened last night beyond the excessive drinking we did, and the little bit of gambling. Fuck, I barely remember what we did in your bed. And now you're suggesting I planned all this?!" Manhattan tore the ring off her finger and flung it hard at him. "I should've just walked away when you came up on me. Taken my chances on my own. First time here you lock me in a damn closet, and now you do this!." Yes she was still putting the fault of what happened last night on him. "Here's your damn water." Manhattan growled as she reached for one of the bottles of water to send it barreling at him. "Now can we go fix this mess you got us into??!" This little bit of venting certainly hadn't done anything for her present hangover, in fact it all served to make her feel all that much worse from the splitting pain in her head to the ugly churning in her stomach that had her wanting to make a dash for the bathroom.

Aiden dodged the ring she'd flung at him and barely had time to move out of the way when the water bottle came barreling at him. He grabbed it with his left hand. "You're saying I got us into this mess? Are you fuckin' serious?" Jesus, his head was pounding from the anger and her yelling. If this was marriage, no fucking thank you. He wanted to chuckle a bit at that random thought, but now was not the time. "I never said you fuckin' planned it, but you certainly don't seem too upset by it." He stalked over to her until they were practically nose to nose, his fingers tight around the water bottle. "If I had a choice between marrying you and locking your arse in a closet? I'd take the closet every fuckin' time. This wasn't my idea. I would have never suggested it, even if I was pissed to the point of not being able to remember what happened."

"Well it sure the hell wasn't my idea!" She snapped back. "And your right, I'm not too upset about this whole matter. I'm fuckin pissed! Come on Manhattan, take advantage of our night here," She snarled giving a shove to his shoulders. "I think you need a night to loosen up a bit - get rid of that tension you're always caring around." Another shove was given to his shoulders before she continued. "Let's get beneath the bitchy exterior and see if there's a fun girl under there somewhere. What happened Aiden, you find something you liked and decided to make sure I got good and wasted so I wouldn't remember what you did. And now with morning coming around you regret your actions and decide that I was to be responsible for the whole thing."

"Don't push me," he growled, poking his finger into her shoulder. He had never hit a woman - who wasn't a demon or vampire - and damned if he'd let her goad him into it now. He knew he ought to calm down and step back. Take a deep breath and make a few calls to see how he could get this to go away. But he had a fucking hangover and had a yelling blonde chick shoving and yelling. It didn't exactly bode well for his mood. "And how the hell was I suppose to know that underneath that bitchy exterior was a desperate little girl so craved for affection that she needed to get a man so drunk he probably wouldn't have remembered his name at the time to get him to marry her?"

That did it. Accusing her of being so desperate that she'd have to sink so low to get some guy to marry her. There were only three certainties in her life. One. She'd die fighting. Two. She'd never have any kids. And three. She'd never, ever get married. A certainty that now seemed to have been changed for her. So furious was she now that she didn't even think about her actions, Manhattan just fisted her hand and took a swing at him.

Aiden expected her to throw a punch, but he stood where he was rather than move. He already knew she was strong, and the pain was nearly equal to the pounding headache he was harboring. Still, he was furious at the entire situation - more with himself than her, but it wasn't so easy to admit that. Aiden grabbed her shoulders and thrust her up against the wall, not giving a shit anymore that she was a woman. "Now that you've got that out of your system, you ready to deal with this shite like a fuckin' adult or what?"

There was a soft grunt from Manhattan when Aiden pushed her up against the wall. "If you're talking about getting this thing annulled or whatever. Yes. I don't want to be married to you any more then you care to be married to me." Hell she didn't want to be in this position in the first place. She just wished she could remember how it all came about to begin with. And all she wanted now was to get the thing undone and leave Vegas.

He stepped back and ran his free hand through his hair before turning away to look for the rest of his things. He twisted off the cap to his water bottle and took a long gulp. "We'll have to get a lawyer back in Marquette to get this annulled. I'll make a few calls, but the sooner we get this taken care of the better." His gaze sought hers. "And I suggest we don't tell a fuckin' soul about this."

The moment Aiden stepped away Manhattan moved to finally get herself a mug of coffee, which thankfully was still steaming. Manhattan cringed at what Aiden said. She had been hoping they'd be able to get the marriage undone before leaving Las Vegas. "That's something I think we are both in agreement on." She told him. Last thing she wanted was for anyone in Marquette to find out what had happened here. This definitely was a what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas situation. Finding the edge of his bed Manhattan sat down, closing her eyes briefly she ran a hand through her hair before taking a couple sips of her coffee.

"Good." He could only imagine what would be said if anyone he knew found out about this. He had no intentions of even telling his sister. Christ. "When does your flight leave?" Aiden asked her, moving to sit in the stiff chair in front of the desk.

Fuck. That thought had Manhattan taking another drink of the coffee. She hadn't been all that sure how long the Vegas job would actually take, so she hadn't made any advance reservations for a flight home. "Within the hour." She told him. And she was really hoping that she'd be able to book a seat on the next available flight out of the city within that time frame.

"Mine is in two," he stated simply, gathering the remainder of his things. He still felt sluggish and sick. And he had to wonder what alcohol he'd had. Something hard, definitely. Something hard enough to make him do something so fucking stupid. "I'll make a few calls when I get back to Marquette and we'll get this taken care of." Shit, he was so pissed off with himself at that moment. What if Eury ever found out? Not that they were really together, but fuck. He didn't want anyone finding out. All he knew was that he was never drinking that much again. At least not with a woman. Tugging his hat onto his head, he turned toward her. "I'll call you back in town."

"Fine." Manhattan glanced back at him. That wasn't to say she wouldn't be making calls herself to look into the matter. She wanted this gone just as badly as he did, Just thinking on it had her anger rising once more. With one last drink of the coffee Manhattan took a slow stand to her feet. She'd follow him from the room, and from there she'd head back to the motel to collect her things and then get to the airport and the hell out of Vegas. This was one little secret she hoped would remain there. God, if anyone found out...that thought only served to worsen the throbbing in her head.