| Details for The Morning After |
| Summary: | Ranjali wakes up to a very unpleasant surprise… |
| Date: | October 12, 1937 |
| Location: | — |
| Related: | An Evening of Excess |
| Characters |
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Usually, Ranjali is an early riser. But then, usually, she doesn't go to bed drunk. Never, in fact. And so the birds have been chirping cheerfully over the glass ceiling of the room she slept in when her mind finally manages to crawl back toward consciousness. It's longer, still, before she manages to pry her eyes open, instantly regretting it. With a gasp, she squeezes her eyes shut and raises a hand to her forhead. The groan that escapes her lips is almost an exact replica of the one from the night before. Following the groan, she tries carefully to sit up, whispering to herself, "What on earth did I /do/ last night… "
By coincidence, Magnus is also an early riser. In fact, he's been laying in bed thinking for a couple of hours, waiting for exactly this moment. When he feels and then hears Ranjali stir, he smiles and reaches over to the nightstand next to him. There's a pitcher of water and a full glass there, and it's the latter that he picks up and extends over to where the woman is laying. "Oh, you did a great /many/ things, and all of them quite well, Miss Winterthorne. Water?"
The water registers first. Thirst, at the moment, is something of an imperative need. Ranjali grasps the glass before she's even managed to sit up all the way, gulping down the clear liquid as though her life depended on it. As she rehydrates, her brain begins to function a little more properly, and several things become clear at once. One: she's lying in a bed not her own. Two: She's lying in the bed with /Magnus/. Three: She's /naked/. And four: he just said… "/WHAT/!?" Dropping the glass, which bounces on the mattress, she grabs up fistful of the sheets, bringing them to her chest and gaping at Magnus in dawning horror.
Magnus watches patiently as she gulps the water down. He sits up slightly in the meanwhile, propping himself up against the mass of soft white pillows at the head of the bed. He tilts his head to one side so that his long hair falls unevenly around his face, then reaches down to pick up the dropped glass and refill it. "Good morning, Ranjali." His eyebrows go up a little at her expression, and he holds the glass out to her again. "You seemed a good deal more enthused when you asked to come home with me last night. What's wrong?" The ambassador smirks deviously and leans closer to her, his other hand coming up to trail the healer's chin as he licks his lips. "Perhaps you need another climactic experience to clear your mind."
Sucking in a breath, Ranjali continues to gape at Magnus. Her horror slowly starts to look like disgust as he speaks, though its the touch, more than anything else, that inspires action. Jerking back, she scrambles out of the bed, taking as much of the sheet as she can with her. And now, her eyes are alight with anger. She's shaking with it, in fact. "What's /wrong/?" She asks with barely contained fury, "After what I have already /told/ you about my beliefs you bring me here and you… " And now here comes the blush, "You take advantage of what /must/ have been… " She trails off, realizing what she must have been last night. "I was drunk." She murmurs, more to herself than to him, before speaking up again, "And you are not an idiot. You would have known."
Since Ranjali scrambles out of the bed, Magnus merely quirks a brow and raises the glass to his own lips, taking several long, leisurely drinks before setting it back on the nightstand. "Mmm, drunk enough to forget that you approached me, evidently. I certainly didn't think you'd had /that/ much, but you were already at the Cauldron when I arrived." He shrugs, then chuckles and wraps his arms around his knees as he sits up. After a few seconds more he gets out of bed and stretches, clearly not sharing the healer's inhibitions about cover. His pale grey eyes land on her and he grins. "Cute. I've already got it all memorized, though, madamoiselle."
Face now flaming, Ranjali instantly turns her head as Magnus steps out of the bed. Grabbing the sheet, she winds it around herself in an imitation of her sarees, something she is able to do without too much thought (thankfully!). "Then forget it!" She snaps, frantically beginning to search for her clothes, snapping up each piece as she finds it. "And don't you /dare/ think this allows you any sort of familiarity with me. Bloody /hell/!"
Magnus pauses in place at the latter statement, his grin gradually widening. Eventually he bursts into laughter, then straightens and bows, still naked, from the waist. "As you will, Miss Winterthorne." He slowly reaches down and picks up his pants, slips them on without any undergarments, then grabs his white undershirt and pulls it roughly over his top. He begins to pace across the room towards the door, although he stops when he steps on something. Smiling, he reaches down and picks up the healer's panties (the only piece she hasn't yet collected), twirls them around his forefinger, then very casually smells them. Yes, he was completely disinterested the night before, but now he's having /fun/. The diplomat extends his arm and tilts his head to one side again. "Mmm. I don't suppose you'll let me keep these as a souvenir, Miss Winterthorne?"
And that is the last straw for poor Ranjali. Drawing herself up to her full height, she stalks over to Magnus and snatches the panties with one hand, the one also holding her dress and bra. The other flies at him, slapping across his face with a loud CRACK. "You… you… " Her eyes begin to fill with tears, but she ignores them, stepping back slowly and letting her eyes dart around in search of a bathroom she might flee to. "I cannot /believe/ I ever thought I could call someone like you a friend… "
The slap is hard enough to make Magnus's head rotate sharply to one side. It's not the first time he's been slapped like that, and although his instinct is to reach up and clutch his face, he doesn't. Instead, he inhales sharply, then turns. For just a second, there's a look of pained regret - and deceit - in his pale eyes at her words. Before it has a chance to show itself further, he smiles impishly and uses the hand that wanted to cradle his cheek to point towards the nearby bathroom. "There, Miss Winterthorne. I am going to go downstairs; get changed and go down both flights. You'll find any of your other things, along with a hangover-cure potion, by the door." He's still amused, regardless of the fact that he didn't particularly want to do any of that, and as he steps around the healer and walks the rest of the way to the door, he's chuckling.
Ranjali is in the bedroom - or rather the connected bathroom - for some time. When she comes down, her hair now bullied back into the chignon and the slightly wrinkled dress back in place, her eyes are far redder than they had been before Magnus left the bedroom. Her bag is easy enough to find, and is snatched up with the same anger as the clothing had been. The hangover potion, however, is given a single look and then completely ignored.