Room 505, Sunday Night

[thatsamilkshake]

This was stupid and Francine shouldn't be here; she should hole up in Momoko's room until this weekend thing wore off and she woke up back where she was supposed to be. But here she was.

Francine hadn't been here since yesterday morning. Francine hadn't been to the version of here she used to call hers since the sun had come out in Greenland months ago and she'd walked out of that other Fandom without looking back. But here she was.

Knowing now that this wasn't a nightmare or some kind of last-ditch effort by the vampires to drag them all back... didn't make knocking on this door any easier, or any less tempting. Or any less stupid.

But here she was, doing it anyway.

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[thatsamilkshake]

To fall asleep in the dark three feet away from Katchoo? Voluntarily close her eyes knowing she'd slip away sometime in the middle of the night, if this weekend thing was true, and never see her again?

"Maybe later. Not now."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Just ignore Clocky when it bitches about the noise later, then." And she was stepping back from the doorway, not pulling away from Francine, really, just an unspoken and (she hoped) clear gesture of invitation.

Would it be better or worse to give her this, even for a few hours, knowing both of them were almost guaranteed to wake up in a completely different situation? Katchoo didn't know. Trying to puzzle it out took more effort than she could spare.

[thatsamilkshake]

"I meant later after I wake up." But really, there was no winning choice here, and there never would be.

Francine moved past her, or more accurately, turned them around so she was inside the room, not out, then added quietly, "Good. Don't ever invite anybody in. Not out loud."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"When do I ever?" Katchoo pointed out, trying (probably futilely) to keep things as light as they resolutely refused to be. She nudged at the door lightly with her hip, swinging it partway closed.

[thatsamilkshake]

"Not even me." The clock-thing rolled out from behind a hamper and beeped at her, then skittered away again. "Her," Francine corrected herself.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Jesus, Francine was even more paranoid and cautious than she'd ever been, and Katchoo decided on the spot that she really, really hated that Fandom for giving her damn good reason to be.

"Okay," she promised, because her social-butterfly ways made that so much of a concern. "Not even her."

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine ran a hand through her hair, wanting to look away, wanting never to; she settled for a glance down at Katchoo's feet. "Sorry. Just call me Debbie Downer. I know it's different here. "

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

They were interesting feet, at least, in mismatched socks containing no less than three holes?

"You're being careful. I appreciate it. I think she would, too."

[thatsamilkshake]

"Would she appreciate--" Shut up, dumbass. Don't ask that. Don't even think it. Feel guilty later. There'll be plenty of time for that when you wake up and tell Arthur where you've been.

Francine shook her head, trying to chase away the question. "Just... tell her thank you for me, will you?"

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"I will," Katchoo said, without even asking what for.

So of course she had to. "Thanks for what?"

[thatsamilkshake]

Letting me pretend.

"Just thank you. She'll get it."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

She really shouldn't, but -- Katchoo reached up to brush her fingers along Francine's jaw. Not her Francine, and she knew it; no way she couldn't, not with the extra streak in her hair and the way her hellish version of Fandom had taken its toll in two dozen ways she could see.

"I'll tell her."

[thatsamilkshake]

It took most of what Francine had in her not to kiss her again; there was nothing left for not leaning in to that touch, or wrapping her arms around Katchoo and holding on for all she was worth.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Okay, Katchoo could do that, at least, and hang on like she was trying to make up for every lost opportunity in this world and that one at once, because why should this Francine's last memory of her be a bad one?