Post by jess1z1 on Jun 5, 2009 1:50:52 GMT -5
Daniel hadn't really slept in at least three days and how is it that when you're the most tired you've been in weeks, somehow you have so much trouble sleeping? That Murphy can be a real bastard with his fucking stupid law. Dan tossed and turned for one whole hour before getting up and getting himself a glass of milk, because grannies around the world like to say that that helps. But after a half an hour of going back to bed and yet not falling asleep, he was starting to believe that all it helped was their farts. A beer. A beer would do. Because when you have only one beer you start getting sleepy (it is after the second one that you don't want to stop drinking). So one would help him fall into Morpheus's arms. But Murphy the bastard again played one on him, because his flat, which was always filled with booze of all kinds, was that night irremediably empty. Daniel felt like punching something. All there was was empty bottles and cans lying everywhere, souvenirs of the party of the night before. Well, after a few mumbled swearwords and a couple of growls, it seemed like Dan would have to go find some more liquor. And out he was.
He walked up to the closest local pub with its dim lights and smell of wood and cigarette smoke (ah, home) and he took a seat by the bar. The place was rather empty which striked him as odd seeing as it was past midnight. But then again, it suited him just fine. All he was in search of was a one drink and then heading for his bed.
But then again, the somehows had acted.
Somehow, Daniel had ended up getting shitfaced in that place, somewhere around the point when one drink turned into several shots of whiskey and somehow, he'd lost complete track of time. After an extended game of beer pong with the bartender, Daniel finally decided that it was time to drag his arse back to the flat, now sure that he'd be falling asleep no question. So he paid his bill and tipped the bartender like he had given him a lap dance and exited the smelly pub with the purpose of getting to his lving quarters.
Somehow, once more, circumstances played a part and Daniel ended up getting himself lost in a nice friendly park that he was sure he hadn't passed on the way to the pub initially. He simply stood there for a minute or two, trying to figure out his next move when all of a sudden there was a light blinding his eyes. It was a car. The car had a siren on top. Oh, fuck. How the two coppers managed to get Daniel inside the police car he couldn't quite recall and all he knew was that they were silently driving him somewhere he futilely hoped was home as he tried to stop seeing double while resting in the back seat. He didn't think he'd resisted being taken because there was no sign of struggle and nothing really hurt. It began dawning on the messy haired young man that they were taking him to spend the night in prison (again) and Dan just had to moan at that. Exactly then, or perhaps because of it, one of the cops, the one in the copilot's seat, turned to look at him over his shoulder and laughed.
"You're droppin' me off at home, righ'?" He managed to ask the police offcers playfully. They didn't answer. "Officer Krupke?" The driver merely looked at him through the rear view mirror. They either hadn't seen West Side Story or they just didn't find it funny. No, it was eminent. He was being taken in.
Long moments of silence went by them again before Daniel started talking again.
"Could we at least put on some music?" He asked. "I'm falling asleep 'ere." He paused. "Ironic, innit?" But he was much to drunk to realize that the cops wouldn't understand why it was ironic. Once more, they ignored him. Dan got testy.
"Fine! I'll sing then." But he waited, at least until the driver stole another glance at him through the mirror. Then he began.
"Our life... together... is so special... together.... we have growwwn..."
And then, as he was starting to really feel John Lennon in the lyrics, he was taken back by the sudden participation of the copper that had initially laughed at him. The man sung, and he sung well.
"We have grrooowwwn..."
There was an astonished pause after which Daniel propped himself forward and rested his elbows on both seats, peaking his head between them. He continued.
"Although our life... is still special..."
And the line that came was sung in a chorus by the three people inside the car, softly and with feeling... just as it should be.
"...let's take a chance and fly awaaaay... somewheeere... alone."
The rest of the car ride to the police station was a perfect harmony (perfect to Dan's drunken hearing) of Just Like Starting Over which led the small trio to, somehow, spend the following couple of hours playing poker outside the cell. At some point during the evening the coppers had reminded Daniel that he had a rightful phone call which he had then used to order a pizza from a 24/7 place near by. It was nearly five in the morning when Daniel had lost his watch and pack of cigarettes to one of the cops who'd been in a lucky strike and, somehow, it got late. The police officers started collecting the cards and putting everything back in its place while Daniel protested that it was still early and that he could still win his cigarettes back. But they apparently had gone back to ignoring mode and one of them simply took Dan by the arm and guided him to the cell where he'd be spending the rest of the night. They bid him goodnight, playing deaf ears to his whining and eventually just switched off the lights and left.
"Officer Krupke?" Dan called one last time from where he was sitting, resigned, inside the cell. "I'm distoirbed." No, surely they'd never seen West side Story. Daniel found a comfortable position for him to spend the time and it wasn't long before he fell soundly asleep.
The next morning there was a distant sound of clinging keys which he vaguely registered and it wasn't until a hand on his shoulder shook him non so gently that he finally woke to the face of a cop in front of him.
"Time to go home, lad."
Daniel rose from his place ever so slowly and stretched, which is when he felt the striking pain, as if his brain was attempting to crawl out of his head through his ears. It was the mother of all headaches. The mother of all hangovers.
"Come on, get on home."
The bright sunlight violated his eyeballs savagely when he stepped out of the police station and squinted his eyes as he looked up and down the street, wondering which way he was supposed to go. The cops hadn't taken the remainer of his cash and he had been able to afford a taxi to take him to the nearest coffe shop. Stepping out of the vehicle, Daniel tried to make it to the actual bulding but only managed to get to the bench on the sidewalk, which seemed to him like a nice place to sit and rest until he was well enough to make it inside and queue. He put his head in his hands and wondered if he'd be falling asleep again right there.
He was sure he probably looked like a beggar but there was no way he was going home and taking a bath before having some breakfast. The bench vibrated briefly with the sudden weight of somebody taking a seat right next to Daniel. Without looking up, he asked the yet anonymous individual who'd landed beside him,
"You ever had oneof hose morning that make question whether it's all really worth it?"
Finally, Daniel raised his head up, turned to his left and grinned lightly.
"Or is it too early to get philosphycal?"
ooc: ugh! that's too long, super random and i have no idea where it's going. but if you're feeling creative, whoever you are, go for it!