circle7 | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

[ His equilibrium’s shot. The trek up to Adachi’s apartment isn’t an easy one. Looking any more than three feet ahead of himself gets his head spinning, and every step he takes ends in a stumble. He has one arm craned around his partner’s shoulder for support, and he occasionally sways into the man’s smaller frame as he drags himself gracelessly up the stairs. It's saturday night (or more accurately, an early sunday morning), and Dojima's had just a little too much to drink. ]

..Shhheeesh, y'figure this kinda place would have an elevator or sshomething.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Granted, Adachi isn't doing all too much better himself. He's having a hard enough time as it is holding his own weight up, let alone someone else's, especially if that someone else is bigger and heavier to begin with. After all, it wasn't like he was just going to sit there and watch Dojima down cups like it was a spectator sport. He was better off than his partner, sure (he could walk straight, and drove them home in one piece, at least), but this was a little taxing nonetheless.

After what seems like a year-long trek, Adachi leans heavily against the door, shoving hands in pockets for the key.]

Hold on, sir, I gotta get the- where did I put it?!

Ain't holdin' on to nothing.

.. Whass’t you’re lookin for anyway?

The ke- oh! Gotcha!

[The key is unattached - no key ring, no other keys. Adachi either doesn't have the organization, or he doesn't have enough key-requiring places and things under his name. Swinging the door open, and flicking on the hallway lights, he turns back to Dojima with a sigh, surveying his partner's state. Adachi's own head is beginning to feel fuzzy, great.]

All right, steady there, sir. Just one step at a time.

Oof-

[Adachi almost feels sorry for the guy. Rather, he feels sorry for the little girl who would've had to deal with this mess at home, had they gone back to the Dojima residence. The cases have been tough lately, but Adachi can't really claim not to have a hand in that. Closing the door behind him, he helps Dojima up, hooking arms under the other man's and pulling up.]

Sheesh, sir, you reek of alcohol.

M’drank too mush.

Hey, wait, don't jus- augh!

[Too much weight on his two feet all at once - Adachi stumbles back, the back of his leg catching on a misplaced shoe (they were all misplaced), and trips. It's not a pretty fall. Adachi is hardly graceful in anything he does, falling included, and he lands on his back with a dull thump. That, in addition to the weight that topples over him right after, makes for a pretty painful spill. He pushes himself up on one elbow, wincing.]

Damn, I'm gonna feel that in the morning.

Shit-

Ugh... wash where you’re goin,’ Adachi.. s'damn thing hurts.

[Adachi glances for a brief second at the living room, or rather, the television in the living room. There were definitely times when he thought about just one more, and his life'd be so much easier, but no. He was letting Namatame handle that now - no need to get his hands dirty.]

Trying, sir.

[Shoving Dojima off first (not like the idiot was going to remember that tomorrow), Adachi slowly climbs to his feet, taking a few deep breaths (for his patience's sake), before reaching back down. He half-drags, half-pulls Dojima towards the couch. Getting him on it is another matter completely, and by the time he's done, he's exhausted. He plops down on the edge of the seat, slumping forward towards his knees. Playing the good little partner got tiring enough on his own, let alone being responsible for someone else.

He looks over his shoulder at Dojima.]

Do you want some water?

M’fine.

[After all that hassle, Adachi can hardly believe that's it. He glances at Dojima disbelievingly.]

...Oh. So you're good here? I-I'm going to go, you know!

What’re you goin’ for? Only round 10 at night lasht time I checked.

Sh’not like we got work tomorrow.. and late as you come’n it shhouldn’ make mush a diffrence

[Adachi flips open his phone just to check, and surely enough, it's way past midnight. He doubts arguing the point with a drunkard is worth it, though.]

Well, you need me here for something? I mean, you're probably too wasted to do anything. No offense, sir.

M'not.

You're always givin' me some kinda lip.

[Adachi considers shoving him back onto the couch. Maybe as soon as he hit the cushions, he'd fall asleep. (But no way, Adachi was never that lucky when it came to Dojima. Murder, yes. Superiors, no.)]

Don't know what you mean, sir.

Oh, hey, look, if you feel like puking, try to hold it in for the bathroom, okay?

…M’not gonna puke.

An what I mean is y’talk to mush. Been in this line a ‘work lil more than fifteen years now without a partner an I don’t need one now tellin me I can’t do nothing. M'can sober up enough if I need to.

[Adachi hides a vicious smile behind a more benign, innocent one. He blinks at Dojima, wide-ened, and, for all appearances, looking like the eager, curious greenhorn he was supposed to be.]

Really? Why don't you show me, sir?

…N’how am I shupposed t’do that?

Edited 2009-11-18 14:18 (UTC)

I dunno. You were the one who said you could sober up if you wanted to. I'm the newbie, remember?

I said that…

Don't got anything to show you.. Nothing there t’hold my attenshion long enough t’sober up. Jus' you an your.. shtupid crooked tie.

[Adachi looks down at the finger, or rather, more at his tie. He sounds a little sulky when he replies.]

It's not crooked, the wind just blew it that way...

S’crooked s’what it is.

Edited 2009-11-18 15:30 (UTC)

[The unexpected weight makes Adachi sway back, and he blinks down at the crown of Dojima's head with a slight frown. Sheesh, the guy was sloshed, all right. His tie tugs tight occasionally around his neck as Dojima fumbles with it, and Adachi rolls his eyes while Dojima can't see it, hoping that his superior didn't decide now, of all times, to become a liar about not wanting to vomit.]

I don't know if you're really in tip top condition to be fixing it right now, though, sir.

[He says this with a small sigh, not even bothering to push Dojima off. Instead, he pats the man on the back (not too heartily, since he doesn't want the impact to make him sick).]

Sure you don't want to sleep it off?

There.

[Well. It's straighter if not exactly straight. Adachi blinks down at it, secretly impressed with the amount of coordination Dojima apparently still retained (or secretly annoyed that even while drunk, the other man could do a tie better), and breaks into a small smile without even needing to prompt himself to. He lifts up the tip of it.]

Hey, this actually isn't bad, Dojima-san.