Takes place immediately following The Best-Laid Plans

The ride home was mostly quiet. Occasionally, Gina might comment on something she saw along the drive, or about the night, but the conversations tended to stutter and then stop. The gargoyle eventually let the silence settle, golden-brown eyes pulling skyward towards the stars. It’d been a good birthday. The best birthday party she’d had all week.

Now that she was slowing down, though… now that she was letting herself relax, and the ambient noise of car tires against the pavement filled the car, Gina could feel her head getting heavy. The gold clip clenched in her hand left little indents in her palm, her mess of curls spilling around her head. Maybeee… she was a little drunk. Just a little. And maybe sleep wouldn’t be such a bad thing?

“You’re gonna love my house,” the gargoyle murmured, “Or at least my bedroom. I’ve got strings of lights.”

She tried not to nod-off, but the quietness of the car made it hard. She’d start to doze, they’d hit a bump, and she’d be jostled back into wakefulness. This happened a handful of times, until the Uber rolled-up to the converted townhouse.

“Here we are,” the driver said coolly, “Have a good evening ladies.”

“Heeey, you too!” Gina said cheerfully, “We’ll give you five stars!”

With that, the gargoyle stepped-out of the car, back into the brisk night air. She gave her wings a flutter and a stretch.

“It’s f***ing freezing,” the gargoyle commented, “Come on, it’s warmer inside. I’m on the top floor.”

Gina jogged up the steps, hastily keying her code in to the front door. The door clicked and buzzed approvingly, and the gargoyle held the door open for her newfound friend.

“Come on,” she said again. Trotting towards the stairs, “My roomies are probably asleep. Are you hungry? I can make us something!”

Gina was sleepy, but she was also hungry. And if Nessa was hungry, that gave her all the more reason to make a pre-bedtime snack! She started to jog up the stairs, pausing occasionally to be sure Nessa was following.

It was a bizarre feeling. Nessa knew her relationship was over—or at least on its way into the incinerator—and she was still not processing what was happening. She knew the anger and the tears would come soon enough, but it was hard to see that when she was sitting in the back of an Uber next to a buzzed sunbeam of a woman.

It was fun to watch as Gina tried to stay awake. For as drunk as Nessa was, she had not hit the point where she was physically tired. Emotionally exhausted, sure, but that was a different beast.

Occasionally, the telepath would submit to her curiosity. She would catch a glance of the brown eyes she was sitting beside, and there would be a brief flash of whatever was fresh in the other brunette’s head:

Okay, Maybeee I’m a little drunk. Just a little.

Nessa scoffed quietly at the downplaying of Gina's clearly inebriated state.

I’m awake!

A moment after she almost definitely dozed off prior to a pothole.

I hope she thinks my bedroom is cool, too.

Genuinely, Nessa had been wanting to see her bedroom since she was told about it. In a purely innocent way… or, if she was being honest, maybe a mostly innocent way.

When they reached the building, her host for the night was still chipper and congenial with their driver. It was a good balance, because Nessa had no space in her night for new strangers. She was only okay with the one she chose to go home with. (Again, innocently.) She was asked to follow along to the top floor, and complied. ”Lead the way, birthday girl!”

Her body felt numb, which actually made climbing stairs easier because Nessa could not feel the strain on her legs. Little drunk victories. They made it to their destination, and she followed Gina into an empty common space. She was warned that any flatmates might have been asleep, so when asked about food, Nessa did her best to fight her drunk urges, keeping her voice hushed. ”I think I’m good, ac—”

Grrrrrrl.

Yup. That was her traitorous stomach. In those sparkling brown eyes, she saw thoughts calling her silly, and a smile unexpectedly formed on Nessa’s lips. ”Okay, that’s a lie. I’ll take whatever you whip up, hun.”

The gargoyle settled on the landing, fumbling with her card-key for a moment before sliding it into the door.

The door gave an affirmative mechanical beep, and Gina once again held the door open for her guest, closing her eyes and giving a jokingly dramatic flourish of her arm towards the living room. It was sparsely decorated in a modern way, but here-and-there, there were signs of habitation. Dishes that hadn't been retrieved, a book or a magazine, a blanket tossed over the back of the couch, and so-on.

>> ”I think I’m good, ac—”

Her stomach begged to differ. Gina could hear the yowl of the poor, neglected digestive organ from where she stood a few yards off. Regardless of what Nessa's answer had been, however, the gargoyle was skipping into the kitchen as they spoke. She was the sort who seemed determined to feed all of her guests.

>> ”Okay, that’s a lie. I’ll take whatever you whip up, hun.”

"I've got just the thing," Gina assured Nessa, "Make yourself at home."

She glanced at the sink on her way to the cabinet and groaned quietly. Dishes. Why were there always so many dishes? Thankfully, she didn't see her favorite pan amongst the fallen soldiers. The gargoyle went down into the cabinet where the pots and pans were stashed, setting it out on the burners of the stove, then flitted to the cabinets where the couscous was stashed. She retrieved butter from the fridge, garlic powder from the spice cabinet-- water was poured into the pan withouht measuring, likewise with the butter. You could tell that this was a dish Gina often made. The stove was flicked on.

"Have you had couscous before?" Gina asked, "It's so good, super-filling but super-fast to make."

Gina pried open the couscous package and fished the seasoning package out. The package was added, a few dashes of garlic powder was added. Now she just had to wait for the pan too rise to a simmer.

"Want anything to drink?" Gina offered. Despite her previous joking, the gargoyle was not prepared for the aforementioned "after-party". A glass of water sounded more her speed, "We have... soda, water, milk, juice... tea..."

Gina took her cue from the growl of Nessa’s stomach, making a beeline for the kitchen. It was likely she was watching the girl burn off the last of her seemingly infinite energy. Assuming Gina did have an off switch, she was going to crash like a racecar when it was time for bed. In no rush to deal with her own emotions, Nessa would feed on the energy her new friend was putting out. As a natural introvert, most people exhausted Nessa and sapped her of her own energy, but Gina was had a charm about her that did not drain her. Precious few people were like that, and it was nice to meet one without vibrant copper hair.

While Gina darted around the kitchen, clearly at home cooking up some food, Nessa followed her suggestion to make herself at home. Taking a seat on a couch in the common area, she looked over the area and was surprised at how spacious everything was. ”So I didn’t expect the college bohemian lifestyle to come with this much room.”

Her attention was drawn to the kitchen when Gina asked about her experience with couscous. ”Haven’t yet, but if it doesn’t have meat, and if you’re using as much garlic powder as I think, I’m excited.” For a vegetarian, Nessa prided herself on not being a picky eater. With meat, poultry, and fish off limits, diet diversity was important.

Food was all well and good, but a drink sounded just as appealing. As much as Nessa used alcohol to numb herself at the club, she was glad the offerings from Gina were of a less thought-altering nature. She was still feeling the after-effects of dizziness from the club, so food and clean drink would do her a world of good. ”I’ll have what you’re having, cutie,” she said, waggling her eyebrows in an exaggerated way. She quickly found herself laughing and covering her mouth so she did not wake Gina’s flatmates. ”I’m sorry, I’m still dealing with leftover silliness from our time at the bar.” Things were bad with Rebecca when she was at the bar with Gina, but having the younger woman around made it easier to deal with. She still was, truthfully.

>> ”So I didn’t expect the college bohemian lifestyle to come with this much room.”

Gina leaned against the counter, tucking one foot behind her heel.

"The co-op handles the furniture for the main living spaces," Gina offered, "They even have, like, bedroom furniture too, if you need it. It's kind of a dorm, but not just for students."

The gargoyle shrugged.

"It'd look soooo much more different if I was decorating," she beamed, "I guess you'll see, though."

No way in Hell would the gargoyle force a guest to sleep on the stiff living room couch. That was certain. The pan was simmering now, if the steady popping of bubbles was anything to go by, so Gina dislodged herself from her spot on the counter. She picked-up the box of uncooked couscous, as well as a spoon, and poured the couscous in, gradually stirring it in.

"It's a grain... like rice, but better. You'll see."

She'd let the couscous simmer for a few minutes, let it fluff-up, and then they could eat a bedtime snack. At least, Gina hoped they'd go to bed soon. She was winding-down fast.

>> ”I’ll have what you’re having, cutie. I’m sorry, I’m still dealing with leftover silliness from our time at the bar.”

Gina cast a laughing glance at Vanessa, quirking a coy smile at her. Given her fine features and small size, she was no stranger to being called a "cutie". She was cute. Cute as a button.

"Totally fine," Gina assured her guest, the sentiment reverberating in her mind. Totally fine, "Water alright by you?"

She pulled her attention away, clambering onto the counter to retrieve two tall glasses from the cabinet. She then hopped down, retrieved ice and water from the fridge, and then shuffled into the living room where Nessa sat.

"For you, madame," the gargoyle offered one of the twin glasses to her, her tail flicking and curling absently.

Vanessa would have found the way Gina was living to be interesting sober, but inebriation made commune-esque lifestyle almost fascinating. Given Nessa’s persona situations growing up, she was very particular with the people she would share a space with. Close, trusted friends (and Booker) were the only people she could see herself living with, and after she left her family, that was exactly where she retreated. The idea of living with strangers was intimidating, regardless of how far Vanessa had gotten through her transition. People could suck, and the more people in one place just meant the odds of someone in that group sucking approached inevitability.

Part of that interest might have been the fault of the co-op’s occupant. Gina was the exact person to live in a setting like this. Open to people, possibly to a fault, (as they discovered when she danced with a mystery ginger,) it was hard to picture anyone in the co-op not adoring her. ”You should just decorate one day when no one’s watching. Guerilla decorating!” Vanessa laughed at her own lame joke, picturing her and Gina in camo facepaint matching the carpet and furniture, hanging up paintings and lights.

Nessa came to the building anticipating a night on the couch where she could rest and stew and cry about her night, but Gina kept making comments about her bedroom. Given what she knew of Gina in their limited time together, it should have been no surprise she would not think to put a guest on the couch. The thought only made the brunette feel worse, like she was putting her hostess out by taking the bed and relegating her to the couch.

Asked if she was fine with water, she nodded, chuckling at the thought. After her emancipation, her diet consisted of water, eggs, pasta, rice, and potatoes for a long time as she built up her funds. Gina sauntered over with glasses and presented the drink with a flourish. ”How kind of you, young miss!” Her smile was broad when she took a sip of the cold, refreshing drink. It was a welcome sensation after overheating her body through the night with dance and alcohol and anger. She could feel the coolness spreading from her core outward.

Nessa shuffled to the side to make room, inviting Gina to joined her for a moment on the couch while the food cooked. In her eyes, She could see the birthday girl was getting tired and the need to be off her feet was growing stronger. After such a busy night out, it would be rude to deprive her a restful sleep by sticking her on a couch until morning. ”You know, you’re being so nice Gina, but I can totally take the couch. I wouldn’t want to kick you out of your bed on your post-post-post-post birthday.” She had to count in her head to make sure she knew how many nights it had been since Gina’s actual birthday. It was possible she was still wrong. Long Islands and math were not good bedmates.

>> ”You should just decorate one day when no one’s watching. Guerilla decorating!”

"I just might," the gargoyle laughed. She always thought the decor needed more color to it (that was her bohemian side talking). She could see herself getting a little drunk and redesigning the living room one night, while her roomies were preoccupied.

Nessa accepted the proffered water and coaxed the gargoyle onto the couch. At first, Gina declined-- she was too absorbed in being a decent hostess to sit. Hostesses didn't sit, they had to make sure everything was running smoothly. With some more gentle insistence, the gargoyle was convinced to take a seat. It'd take the couscous a little more than ten minutes to boil off the excess water and be ready to serve, so she supposed sitting wouldn't be too bad.

With a practiced fluidity, Gina stepped onto the couch before sinking into a seated position, tucking her legs beneath her and wrapping her tail around her legs. She took a quiet sip of her water, listening to the couscous simmer.

>> ”You know, you’re being so nice Gina, but I can totally take the couch. I wouldn’t want to kick you out of your bed on your post-post-post-post birthday.”

Gina's chesnut gaze was drawn to Nessa's eyes, confusion roiling momentarily. What? Kick her out? What was she talking about?

"Oh!" the gargoyle gasped, the realization suddently donning-on her, "I didn't mean, uh, I'd come out to the couch! I thought we both could sleep in my bed."

Another sip of the water. Another glance at Nessa. Can two girls platonically share a bed when one is in a lesbian relationship with a friend of the other? That was the real question of the night.

"I mean, I usually share my bed when I have friends over," Gina stipulated, "So it wouldn't be a big deal to me but like, if it's not okay with you I totally understand."

She wasn't sure what kind of relationship Nessa and Becca had. I don't wanna get her in hot water with Becca. Thought B was cooler than that though. Immediately, the gargoyle was mentally giving her new companion benefit of the doubt. What was she thinking?! Of course she couldn't share a bed with Gina! Earth to Gina, this is Captain Obvious calling!

"It's a big bed," the gargoyle assured Nessa, taking another sip of water.

Gina did not readily submit to taking a seat, clearly trying to be the perfect host. It was a sweet ambition, but Nessa would rather have Gina sitting with her than running around trying to take care of things for her. Food would make Nessa’s stomach feel better, and water could cool her down, but Gina was the thing keeping her head in a good place.

Sitting next to one another, sipping ice cold water, they had a chance to talk. Nessa had the chance to play the accommodating guest, electing for the couch, but Gina met her eyes, confused at the comment. It was understandable if the host wanted to take one for the team, but there must have been some kind of miscommunication somewhere. Gina was the first one to figure it out.

"Oh! I didn't mean, uh, I'd come out to the couch! I thought we both could sleep in my bed."

The cool feeling from Nessa’s drink was suddenly gone, replaced by a warm sensation in her chest, face, and… well, she felt warm everywhere. At no point did it occur to the drunk mindreader that her new friend might have been offering her a spot beside her in bed. Vanessa’s eyes were now focused on Gina’s eyes, looking to understand what her intentions were with such a proposal.

Vanessa appreciated that she was dealing with the kind of person who wanted to treat her gay friend like any straight friend. It was dangerous with the condition this particular gay girl was in, but the thought was noble.

There was a gut reaction to want to respond to Gina’s thoughts, motivated by her unclear intoxicated thoughts, but she held her tongue long enough for the other woman to chime in. It was a balancing act, as she wanted to be respectful of Vanessa and her comfortability while making sure the newcomer felt welcome. Then there was a third, unspoken perspective considering Rebecca’s thoughts.

It almost made Vanessa mad when she realized how much Gina wanted to do right by Rebecca, who was not looking to do right by anyone. It was an important reminder: why should Vanessa think about her girlfriend? How long was that title even going to stick?

A platonic night in bed with a new friend. It sounded lovely, Becca be damned. ”That sounds great to me, Gina. As long as you don’t throw couscous up on me,” she warned, winking and nudging with her elbow. Like Long Islands and math, subtlety and drunkenness were not good bedmates.

But maybe Gina and Nessa would be?

>> ”That sounds great to me, Gina. As long as you don’t throw couscous up on me.”

The gargoyle smiled, reassured, before giving a droll "pffft" in Nessa's direction.

"I'm not gonna throw-up on you," the gargoyle countered, taking another swig of water for safe measure. Her ears detected the sound, or lack of the sound, of diminishing boiling water. The couscous would be ready to serve soon. Gina unfolded herself from the couch once more, swaying a bit, before ambling into the kitchen.

"How hungry are you?" the gargoyle asked, first meandering to the cabinets to retrieve a pair of bowls. She again crawled onto the counter, popped the cabinet open, and took a pair of bowls into one arm. Slide down, close the cabinet again, retrieve spoons.

The gargoyle then went to the stove, clicked it off, and popped the lid off of the couscous. Roiling steam to greet her. In place of the diminutive grains, water, and powdered flavoring, there now rested a bed of fluffy yellow grains, the seasoning concentrated towards the top. Gina stirred the mix with the serving spoon. It smelled so good. Two helpings were served, and the gargoyle returned to the living room, offering one of the ceramic bowls to her companion.

She then reclaimed her seat, assuming the same position as before.

Gina stirred the couscous in her bowl once again before taking a generous spoonful.

"Mmmm," the gargoyle closed her eyes, shaking her head slowly. Swallowing her bite, she commented, "Perfect after-party food!"

The gargoyle took another eager bite, her brown eyes lingering on Nessa for some indication of whether or not couscous would be her thing. It was like rice, but smaller. Starchier, though Gina wasn't sure how much starch there was (if any).

The food was reinvigorating. On one hand, eating was making her feel infinitely better. On the other, it was wearing her down, pushing her further into the warm and sleepy territory. I hope I didn't go too hardcore on the garlic powder.

Gina departed the couch as quickly as she took her seat, it felt, but she had a duty to her guest and her stove. Nessa was not exactly sure how hungry she was, because unhappiness was usually an appetite killer, and yet her stomach growled. She had to strike the delicate balance of putting enough food in her to soak up some alcohol without giving her stomach too much to handle at once, leading to the very vomiting Gina just pledged to avoid. If the host was not going to, far be it for the guest to breach hospitality. ”Maybe just full me a bowl and we’ll see how that goes?” She reserved the right to politely set aside the bowl if it proved too much for her.

The couch was not lonely for long, with Gina returning, two bowls in tow. Nessa was handed her late-night snack, and finally had a fluffy, yellow picture to go with the silly food name. Taking her first bite, Nessa savored the cloud of garlicy grain in her mouth, letting out a small moan of enjoyment. ”This is gonna hit the spot,” she decided aloud.

Between bites of her couscous, Nessa kept sneaking looks at Gina. She could not help it; her new friend intrigued her by being unlike the other people she knew. It was not just the physical, though Nessa liked the particular tone of the girl’s skin and the way she positioned her wings like any other part of her body. Gina was sweet, and had no questionable intentions when she asked about sharing a bed. It almost left Nessa feeling guilty, because her mind went to the less innocent place Gina’s thoughts were not treading.

It would be wrong, and they were both well aware. Vanessa had a girlfriend, and Gina was Rebecca’s friend, (and possibly straight? The jury was still out unless she could get more topical thoughts to read.) Was it still immoral to cheat on a cheater? The line felt blurry; maybe that was an aftereffect of the alcohol as well.

Their eyes met while the girls munched couscous, and Gina had a sheepish mental concern that almost made Vanessa laugh. One gift mind-reading gave her was seemingly a knack for saying the right thing at the right time. ”I totally get why you spoke this stuff’s praises. It’s so delicious and perfectly garlic-y.” It was a targeted compliment, but not an untrue one; everyone knew garlic made everything better.

Nessa was glad to have recently swallowed a bite of food just prior to a yawn escaping her throat. It would have been a poor look to yawn with a mouth full of chewed couscous. ”I think you tired me out with all that dancing,” she teased, looking down at herself. ”Oh. I didn’t think about this, but… do you maybe have something I can wear to bed that’s not dance floor ready?” She looked over Gina, and anything she borrowed would be far from an exact fit. Gina was shorter, curvier, and with an ample chest Nessa just lacked.

…and how long was she looking at Gina’s chest? Long enough to almost constitute staring, she worried. Her eyes shot back up to meet Gina’s brown eyes, marked with those brilliant amber flecks.

Nessa sang praises for the couscous, which made Gina’s tail curl with delight. It hit the spot, she said. It hit the spot and was perfectly garlic-y. Gina’s wings fluttered.

“I’m a huge sucker for garlic,” the gargoyle admonished. No vampires would be pestering them tonight. She let the conversation fall into a lull, in the interest of eating more couscous. Her friend was stealing glances at her, and Gina met them inquiringly every now and again.

What?

Do I have couscous on my face?

She subconsciously wiped at her lips and, finding no stragglers, resumed eating.

She has nice eyes.

Munch, munch, munch.

>> “I think you tired me out with all that dancing.”

Gina, swallowing her most recent bite, cracked a grin at that.

“That was sooooo much fun,” Gina said with a grin, her tone slightly apologetic, “I’ve never been to a club like that, ever.”

Of course, she’d never been old enough for a club like that. But that was beside the point. Gina collected the straggling bits of couscous into pile at the center of the bowl, scooping them into her spoon and taking her final

>> “Oh. I didn’t think about this, but… do you maybe have something I can wear to bed that’s not dance floor ready?”

Gina had closed her eyes, savoring the last bite, but she opened them to look over at Nessa. Nessa was drinking in Gina’s appearance, as if to size her up to see whether or not she might fit into the proffered clothes. Gina, in return, let her gaze flicker over Nessa. She was taller (Duh, everyone’s taller than me, Gina thought begrudgingly, Except for like ten-year-olds…) but she was also rather thin. It would probably balance-out quite nicely.

“I’ve got some pajama-worthy things, yeah,” the gargoyle confirmed smilingly, “I may be tiny, but my boobs put me up a few shirt sizes… so I think you’ll be in good shape.”

And besides, Nessa had really narrow hips. Gina, alternatively a very hip-y person, had shorts that would be plenty big. Gina paused for a moment, her tail pausing in its idle flicking. Aw, crap, the accommodations! For a moment, the gargoyle’s gaze cut towards the hall that led towards the bedrooms, mentally running through her drawers. Most people didn’t have tails, which meant the hole sewn-in to the pants would make a butt-window for someone with average human anatomy.

Wait—her gaze cut back towards Nessa—the lazy-day shorts.

She had a pair of shorts that were unmodified, pajama shorts that she could quickly wriggle into, in the event that she’d need to run into the common area but didn’t have time to fuss with the various straps and snaps. She can wear the lazy-day shorts.

The gargoyle absently scraped at her bowl, as if trying to dislodge any remaining bits from the ceramic sides. She would wait until Nessa finished before leading her down the hall.

It was hard being a mind reader.

Okay, sometimes it was great. Vanessa liked peering into Gina’s head and getting insight into what she was thinking. People so often kept important things to themselves, so getting to that stuff gave her the kind of understanding most people only dreamed of having.

The challenge came from keeping a straight face. Gina was catching her moments of eye contact and wondering if there was food on her face. Vanessa’s smirk was unavoidable, but there was no way to connect it to the thought. Most people mistook all the eye contact as something forward or flirty, because it made more sense than ocular telepathy. Sometimes she was doing both. Gina did have something on her face, after all: a whole lot of cute.

The sudden thought Gina had about Vanessa’s eyes was unexpected. It was fortunate she was coming down from a night of drinking, because her cheeks were already more red than normal. It was wrong to flirt with Gina, of all people, but Vanessa pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She was just having harmless fun with a sweet, fun girl who happened to be pretty and friends with her girlfriend. ”I’m glad I could be part of your great night, Genie.” She was unsure where the nickname came from, but it slipped off her tongue so easily.

They ate the couscous like it was the one thing saving them from death, but Gina had her mind on Nessa’s request for clothing. The loaners would be ill-fitting, but pajamas did not have to suit her perfectly. It was the thought she had not considered that she almost accidentally snorted at: accommodations. Specifically, tail accommodations. How she did not laugh at “butt window,” she would never know. She did holster the phrase in her mind for later.

The bowls were emptied sooner than expected, and another yawn escaped Nessa, signaling it was time to get ready for sleep. She followed her hostess down the hallway and into her room.

There was an immediate twinkle in her eye, and it was not just the reflection of strings of lights strewn around the room. Gina was not underselling the room: the aforementioned lights, the collage of photo memories, the fashion equipment and clothes in the corner. ”So… any chance we could trade rooms? Because this is awesome.” When Vanessa was home and sober and not dealing with her emotional crisis, she would have to find time to redecorate.

Glancing over at a very comfortable looking bed, then to a very comfortable looking bedmate, Vanessa shrugged, trying to downplay their plans for the night. ”So… pjs?”

>> “I’m glad I could be a great part of your night, Genie.”

Gina’s wings twitched at the unfamiliar nickname, her eyes flicking up from her bowl. That was a first. She was Gina to almost everyone, almost always. Regina on legal documents, and Regina Marie when she was in trouble. Never Genie. A smile quirked at her lips. It was a fine nickname, just unfamiliar.

Gina waited for her guest to finish. She then collected the used dishes—the bowls and the spoons—and padded into the kitchen, Nessa in-tow. These dirty dishes were added to the small collection in the sink. Some water was added to the pan, to prevent the couscous from sticking the pan after it dried. She could deal with dishes tomorrow when she was slightly less drunk. The gargoyle waved a hand to Nessa, beckoning her to follow.

“I’m at the end of the hall.”

They walked softly down the hardwood hallway, Gina’s claws clicking as they went. It was hard to sneak with taloned feet. Gina slid her card-key into the door, which buzzed affirmatively, then padded into her room. Thankfully she had the forethought to turn on the hanging lights, which cast a soft yellow glow over her room. The room was surprisingly bright, but perhaps it was because the rest of the house was rather dim.

While Nessa was perhaps dwelling on the splendor of Gina’s little bohemian safe-haven, the gargoyle was eyeing some of the mess she left-behind. Sewing projects draped over the machine or hanging nearby, the partially-open drawer of a dresser, and clothes that were in various stages of needing-to-be-washed. Yiiiiiikes. If she knew there’d been company, she would have been more thorough in tidying up.

>> “So… any chance we could trade rooms? Because this is awesome.”

“Will ya take the mess, too?” Gina chirped back brightly, giving Nessa an apologetic smile. She pushed-in the chair at her sewing-table, closed a stray drawer, nudged the dirty clothes with her foot. How embarrassing!

>> “So… pjs?”

“Pjs!” Gina confirmed, remembering herself. She went back to her drawers, pulling open the drawer she just closed. Lazy pants… where were… ah! Lazy pants! Nice. She tucked those under her arm. She then went to the drawer of night shirts, sliding it open, “Do you prefer tank tops or t-shirts?”

Nessa’s response determining, Gina would retrieve the appropriate, oversized equivalent. Her eyes locked with Nessa’s again, wanting another taste of their beautiful dark hue.

They’re like galaxies with the Christmas lights.

Gina might have stared a moment too long before mumbling, “I-I hope these work-out for you! I only have one pair of shorts without a tail-hole.”

She could feel her own cheeks flushing, so she quickly turned back to walk towards the dresser to retrieve pajamas for herself. The gargoyle rummaged, briefly, fishing-out a racerback tank top and a pair of shorts. Gina tried to reach behind her back, past her wings, to pull the zipper on her dress and start changing, but her arms were stiff and tired. She tried again, to no avail.

“Hey, uh, Nessa?” Gina inquired, pleading, “Would you be able to help me with this zipper? My… f***ing… wings are in the way.”

When she was wide-awake, sure, it was no problem. But when she was a little buzzed, a lot tired, and majorly uncoordinated, it wasn’t as easy. The gargoyle began to glance over her shoulder inquiringly, her lips thinned in frustration with the unreachable zipper.

Nessa was enamored with Gina’s room. She might be enamored with Gina, but those thoughts were preposterous and too improper to dwell on. The owner (or rather, renter) of the room was self-deprecating about the mess she left behind. It was understandable; she had no clue she would be hosting company. There was no reason for her friend’s girlfriend to freak out and ask to leave the club with her instead. ”It’s not mess. When it’s in the name of fashion and creation, it’s… your process manifested.” Maybe the couscous was working, because Vanessa was able to get through the word “manifested” without slurring or fumbling over the word.

Gina looked for loaner pajamas, and Nessa replied, ”Anything’s good. Tank top, I guess,” when asked for her top preference. Along with a pair of comfy-looking shorts, the top was handed over and the two women’s eyes met again.

They’re like galaxies with the Christmas lights.

There was a flare up in Vanessa’s cheeks again. Was Gina really that focused on her eyes? What kind of girl had a thought like that if she was not interested in—

Vanessa had to remind herself to stay calm and grounded and not jump to conclusions. Gina was just an observant woman. Who thought her eyes were pretty. Vanessa wanted to return the compliment, and let Gina know the way the flecks of amber in her eyes interplayed with the lights, it was like looking into dancing flames. She kept it to herself, knowing it would only give her away.

Looking over the clothes she was borrowing, Gina indeed owned at least one pair of unaltered shorts. ”Thanks! No butt window, then, so I guess no easy peeking for you,” she teased. Was that teasing or had she really just crossed the line to flirting? Flirting with her girlfriend’s friend. What was she doing?

Vanessa was ready to shimmy out of her own dress when a call for help came from behind her. Gina was trapped in her own dress without some assistance, so it was Nessa’s duty as guest and new friend to handle it for her. ”I’m on it!”

Approaching from behind, Vanessa located the zipper at the top of the dress’s back. Very carefully, she tugged on the small slider so it released the interlocking teeth of the zipper, loosening the dress so Gina could more easily escape. The need was addressed… but Nessa lingered. The shades of grey on the gargoyle girl’s back were not uniform. They made her look like she was made of stone, but at the same time, her skin seemed so soft. Without thought, Nessa’s fingers followed a segment of Gina’s spine, from the base of her neck to the spot between her shoulder blades.

Realizing (eventually) what she was doing, Nessa pulled her hand back and hoped to play it off like she had done nothing out of the ordinary. ”Y-you’re good to go.”

Taking the few steps back to her pajama pile, Vanessa focused on removing her own dress. Without wings, it only took her a minimal amount of effort until the garment fell to her feet. Left in her underthings, back facing Gina, who would logically also be facing the other way, Nessa undid her bra. They were going to sleep, after all, and who wore a bra to bed?

Left only in panties, Nessa quickly fumbled her way into the tank top and the shorts, tying the drawstring tighter to make up for the excess waistband. Thank you, stupid narrow hips. Turning back around, Nessa warned, ”Okay. I think I’m bed-ready.”

After Gina handed her friend the night-clothes, Nessa said something off-handed about “butt-windows”, which gave the gargoyle pause. She hadn’t said anything about the accommodations for her shorts out loud. Not that she remembered, anyways. That was even her usual choice of terminology, too. Gina flushed. The appropriate, uncomfortable, heterosexual response would be to protest. Why would I want to peek at your butt anyways? Or something like that. Maybe she was over-thinking it? Maybe Nessa came to that conclusion on her own accord?

“Damn, you caught me,” Gina teased back, taking a safe middle road. Maybe Gina had said something out loud… she did have the tendency to mutter to herself while sewing, sometimes… maybe she was so sleepy, she’d muttered about butt-windows too, and not even noticed… and totally forgot…

Nessa padded over when Gina requested assistance, and the gargoyle reflexively tucked her tail around her legs, to avoid the risk of it getting stepped-on. Thankfully her hair was still in a bun, so that was one thing she didn’t need to worry about. Gina fanned her wings, ever so slightly, so that her friend didn’t have to wedge her way to the zipper.

“I really appreciate it,” the gargoyle said quietly. Nessa took care of the zipper, but she didn’t leave. Gina could feel her face heating up. Up close, Nessa could probably see Gina’s dappled neck and shoulders, the freckles and the patches of scales here-and-there.

“Uh…” Gina began to say, unsure of what she was going to say. A single finger trailed down her neck and midback, along the ridges of her spine, and Gina gave a squeak of surprise. The squeak fluttered through her wings to the tip of her tail, but thankfully she managed not to batter Vanessa.

>> “Y-you’re good to go.”

“Thank you,” Gina said appreciatively. She rummaged through her drawers, keeping the unzipped garment on for a moment as she retrieved a tank top and a pair of her shorts for herself, as well. The dress, unmodified, was easy to remove. With her tail still tucked around her legs, Gina shrugged her shoulders out of the armholes, and let the dress fall into a pool near her feet. One leg out, two leg out, kick! It was very unceremonious. Since the dress had an open back, there was no bra speak of (which, given her stiffness, she was currently regretting), so the gargoyle took to the laborious process of getting dressed.

She began with the shirt, the worst part of the process. Gina undid the snaps that comprised the shoulders of the racerback tank-top, stepping through the body of the shirt. Her tail, similarly, tucked itself in. Gina then slid into the massive tank top much in the way that someone might slide into a dress, pulling it up from the bottom—a little wiggling to get it over the hips—and then it was around her torso.

Wings still fanned, Gina brought the back of the tank-top towards her collarbone, with her tail. Her tail passed the connecting part of the shirt to an outstretched hand, and her hands went about snapping the shirt into place. Come to think of it… she probably could’ve just used her tail to get the zipper… oops.

>> ”Okay. I think I’m bed-ready.”

Gina glanced over her shoulder, wearing only the baggy racerback tank and her panties.

“Almost there,” Gina said with a smile, “Changing clothes is kind-of a process…”

Thankfully, shorts went faster. One foot, two foot, up! Just like normal. The only difference was snapping the waistband into place over her tail.

“There we go!” the gargoyle said victoriously, surveying her friend, “Ah, good, looks like everything fits… I hope you don’t mind if I take the outside? Wings and all…”

Her bed was pushed into a corner, which meant that Vanessa would have to take wall-side, should she agree.

“I can get the lights,” the gargoyle volunteered. Of course she could. It was her bedroom and she had night-vision.