Winnie grinned at Nessa’s comment about making the poor waitress burst into flames. She just waggled her eyebrows knowingly. ”Oh, there will be more than just flames, love.”

She didn’t elaborate anymore because, really, she didn’t have to. Nessa knew of Winnie’s appetites and her ability of seducing those at the drop of a hate. From the speech alone, she should be watching the waitress with every passing second but Winnie knew her game and knew that she wouldn’t have to. The seeds were planted and that was all that mattered. Sooner or later, the waitress would return and their little game could continue.

For the time being, she had another game to play.

>>”Okay, time for the Bookman Revenge Tour, Twenty-Seventeen!”

Winnie nodded. ”Bring it, *****.” While she looked ready to invest herself fully in the game, truthfully she wouldn’t be playing her hardest. Oh she would make it look pretty close but she was playing a longer game here. She wanted information from Nessa and she was going to ensure that she got it.

---

Oh the matches were a thing of beauty, as was Winnie’s acting. She fought well, switching only between Luri and one other character, but it seemed that the tides were turning in Nessa’s favor. As the battles commenced, steadily Winnie started to lose more battles than she was winning. She acted frustrated, grumbling, yelling at the screen for the betrayal against her assured victories. In the end she waved her hand at the screen tried to make up some nonsense about the game glitching out, even though there was clearly no glitching. But, for however irritated Winnie was looking, deep down everything was going exactly as planned.

New drinks arrived and Winnie sighed with a smile. Her eyes fell upon the waitress and the two of them quickly fell back into their patterns of sweet words and pet names. Honey, Gorgeous, Sweetie, Beautiful, the words floated between the two of them like bursts of sweet smelling candy. The smolder in the photographer’s eyes only made the waitress continue to blush but she was undeterred.

Their latest drinks offered, Winnie waved bye to her favorite waitress of the evening and turned back to Nessa who was obnoxiously cheering after her own victory. A roll of her eyes and Winnie too the loser’s sip of her shot while Nessa got to down her own.

>> ”To a beautiful choke job on your part.”

”Ah, piss off,” she said with a well-meaning glower. She noted, as Nessa moved, that she was clearly getting tipsy fast. Perfect.

Taking a second as Nessa loaded the new game, Winnie turned to her drink and took a few more sips and sighed. Her glass was looking decidedly more full than Nessa’s was. It was a shame but it afford her a chance at sobriety so that she could keep a clear head as to her real intentions for the night. Thankfully each sip was probably veering Nessa further and further away from suspicion concerning the the kiwi-shifer’s true objective. Another careful sip of her drink and she looked up when Nessa turned to her, a sly look on her face.

>> ”So what do you think? Gonna slide her your number on the check? Or will you be asking when she gets off? Followed by when her shift ends.”

The two erupted in laughter as Winnie just shook her head. She looked a bit coy as she crossed her legs and leaned back against the sofa. ”A lady doesn’t kiss and tell, sweetie,” she replied. However, after a second, she looked to the left and right before leaning in a bit to whisper to Nessa. ”But if I happen to disappear between games for a bit, don’t come looking for me.” She shrugged. ”Unless you’re planning on participating, that is.” She stuck her tongue out at Nessa before giggling and leaning back in her seat. She looked up at the driver select screen. ”Oh! Emperor Ghast is mine!!” she announced as she selected her character.

Beating Winnie at video games was always enjoyable, but everything was extra enjoyable when the happy mist of inebriation started setting in. Vanessa was having a great night, and she was about to pop in a video game she was known for dominating. She had the skill and timing down, she knew all the techniques, and everyone was convinced the game loved her and gave her good item rolls. Victory was going to be swift and glorious!

Winnie found Vanessa’s joke about her pursuit of the waitress as funny as she did, which was good, because the joke was hilarious and deserved all the laughter it earned. Vanessa could not stop from calling Winnie out on her “kiss and tell” line. ”Oh, bull****. You act like we haven’t literally spent nights drinking and recanting your exploits.” After all, everyone needed a friend to share in the joy of their conquests, and Winnie was quite the conqueror. ”Though I think Gina would frown on me lending my friend and her waitress that much of a helping hand.”

After another bout of laughter, Vanessa settled on Princess Violet and they jumped into the race. As expected, Vanessa led with a convincing trouncing of her friend in the first race. She took her two sips but looked at Winnie’s glass, which seemed disappointingly full. If she remembered correctly, Winnie made their wager with the hope that she could get herself drunk. Vanessa liked winning, but if Winnie was really having a long week, maybe she could help things along. She was not planning on throwing every match, but what would be the harm in letting things even up drink-wise?

So, under the guise of her increasingly intoxicated state, Emperor Ghast was starting to claim more victories over the Moonlight Princess. Vanessa pitched the same fit she always did when she lost, but she had to fight the urge to smirk whenever Winnie took the sips she was apparently so eager to get. No one was supposed to escape the night sober, and Vanessa was going to ensure the plan went as expected.

For was obnoxious as Winnie could be whenever she won at video games, really, Nessa could be just as bad. The two of them were really like peas in a pod sometimes. If it weren’t for the fact that they had completely different parents, most would assume that the two of them were related. However that couldn’t have been further from the truth and both would vehemently state that they weren’t as bad as the other one.

Case in point, right now, with the end of their journey across the fighters of the world, Winnie was just glaring at Nessa in a quasi, grumpy way. However...it was all an act. Truth was that the brit was actually glad that her friend was winning because it was all part of her plan in order to gain some more knowledge as to her recent exploits. The young woman was hiding something from her and as soon as she got a whiff of it, the kiwi-shifter had to know. And know she would.

The drinks were flowing freely and both girls were beginning to get somewhat tipsy, but Nessa by a far greater amount. Winnie made sure to lose a few rounds of their game in hopes that that the rules they had set up were going to ensure that Nessa would spill the beans. Still, it was difficult to remember that with how aggravating her friend could be whenever she won. It was all for the cause, she had to remember that.

Their conversation, instead, shifted to another conquest that Winnie currently had in mind -- the pretty waitress that kept coming by to check on them, bringing them new drinks. Nessa, in her buzzed state, clearly prodded Winnie for information regarding her plans with her, but she shrugged it off, pretending to be sweet and innocent -- before dropping the bomb that Nessa was more than willing to join if she wanted.

Harmless flirting. That’s all it was.

>>”Oh, bull****. You act like we haven’t literally spent nights drinking and recanting your exploits...Though I think Gina would frown on me lending my friend and her waitress that much of a helping hand.”

She pouted playfully at the mention of Nessa’s reason for not partaking. It was understandable, of course. From what she's heard, Gina really sounded like the sweetest thing. Honestly she looked forward to meeting her, when Nessa felt it was safe enough to do so. Winnie wasn't the type to steal another person's lover, but even her friendly flirtations could be hard to resist. But she would see the young gargoyle… eventually.

In the meantime, she had other matters to process, such as how to get information from Nessa. As their next game started, the photographer tried to keep her head in the game. However, as the races went on, victories were strangely becoming easier and easier. It was to the point she was taking more victory spots than she should have. Things had decidedly taken an odd turn. She was just going to have to try harder to lose.

Time passed and their races eventually descending into an even weirder state. While they were usually high paced matches, these races had become something utterly not. At this point, both now “racing” very slowly next to one another and a painstaking pace. This was no longer a high -octaned race, but rather a slow, leisurely drive at which big girls were vying for twelfth place.

Winnie said nothing, though. Even with the buzz, she just tried to roll with it and hope that Nessa was far drunker than her at this point.

Vanessa made a wise decision when it was her turn to pick a game, even if her plan was to lose more games than she one. With all the chaos of Average Giuseppe Mobiles, it was easy to subtly swerve into a stray shell or catch a banana peel on a turn. A sober Vanessa would never let those little obstacles get in the way of her success, but Vanessa could sell the alcohol hindering her because, well, she was getting drunk.

When games went in her favor, Vanessa was still celebrating like all she wanted to do was leave Winnie under the tires of her cart. She pouted and huffed when she lost, even though she was glad to see Winnie knocking her drink back.

What was weird to Vanessa was how even things still seemed to be. She was putting a concerted effort into performing at a mediocre level and Winnie was not taking advantage of that to pummel her into the ground and declare herself supreme video game overlord. Even after all her effort, Vanessa still felt like the one who was on track to be drunk and stumbling in the near future. Something seemed out of place, but the alcohol in Vanessa’s system was not helping her connect the dots.

Vanessa did have another idea in mind since her plan A was showing limited success. If she could not tip the scales on both sides, she would just break them. The waitress was passing by and Vanessa hailed her attention, smiling sweetly. ”Excuse me, hun! I’m sorry to bother you, but my lovely friend here isn’t bringing her best to the games today. I was hoping you could help me out with something to get her in the mood for more fun.” The waitress seemed eager to assist, to the surprise of nobody.

After a quick order and equally quick retrieval of drinks, the girls had new shots in front of them. Vanessa was not sure why exactly, but over the summer it had become her favorite shot. In an effort to move the night along, she also ordered them both as doubles.

Vanessa raised the shot and downed it, enjoying the sweet and tart tastes that masked the prevalent amount of alcohol. ”You know, I know I’m not exactly speedrunning these things, but aren’t you a tiny bit worried about your pride, here? Maybe you’d be doing better hitting the buttons with ittle tiny birdy feet,” she teased, still wondering why Winnie’s gaming skills were suddenly so non-existent.

Things were slowly starting to turn ridiculous. The absolute road-rage filled game they had been playing had quickly descended into something akin to “Driving Miss Daisy”. The two women seemed to both be trying to claim the coveted spot of 12th place, with absolutely no struggle to be the one to top the other. It seemed that both alcohol and a strange turn of events had set upon both women, causing them to struggle in order to let the other be victorious. If things weren’t suspicious before, they certainly were now.

When the both of them somehow managed to cross the finish line at the same time, the game tweaked out, unable to really process how it was possible, aside from just calling the both of them LOSERS (by display “You Lose” in colorful letters), Winnie just sighed. Things had turned an awkward corner but at least she would get to have another tasty, tasty sip of her drink. So, picking up her glass, she put the straw in her mouth and took one sip that may have been a bit too long.

A giggle and she sighed as she placed the drink back down.

It was then that their space was invaded by the lovely, curvaceous form of their favorite waitress. The young woman was certainly earning Winnie’s eye, lingering a bit longer than a waitress should, even pressing her hip against the side of the couch as she stood to watch a round or two. However, at this point she moved on, beckoned over by her winning friend, Nessa. Winnie narrowed her eyes, contemplating the number of scenarios this could entail. Nessa had a girl! How dare she try to steal her snack for later tonight! Oh she would have words with her.

>>”Excuse me, hun! I’m sorry to bother you, but my lovely friend here isn’t bringing her best to the games today. I was hoping you could help me out with something to get her in the mood for more fun.”

Winnie was too distracted by the game to hear what the two of them were saying so she instead went back to the character select screen and tried to piece together parts to supe up her racer. She settled for giant monster truck wheels that were sh*t at making sharp turns, and a tiny mushroom body that couldn’t take a hit from flower petal. Truly it was an atrocious racer but she was too enmeshed in the game.

When a new series of shots were brought to them. Winnie looked a bit confused before she shrugged her shoulders, pulled up the drink and knocked it back. It was so absolutely yummy that it was a complete shame that there was only one of them. Had she not had the self-control that she did, she would have pounced on Nessa just so that she could lap up whatever droplets may be lingering on her tongue.

No! Bad Winnie! Wait for the waitress to do that.

>>”You know, I know I’m not exactly speedrunning these things, but aren’t you a tiny bit worried about your pride, here? Maybe you’d be doing better hitting the buttons with little tiny birdy feet,”

Her eyes narrowed. Oh it was so f**king on. With a shake of her head, Winnie just grumbled. At the moment her perfectly brilliant plan to let Nessa win seemed to be running into some problems. As much as she wanted to know what was really going on in her friend’s life, her pride was taking a whoopin’ tonight. And with every sip she was losing some of her concentration, which would eventually mean that it was going to be harder for her to keep pulling her punches. And how could she keep quiet after such a flippant comment?

Giving her friend the sassiest of mean girl looks, Winnie eyed her as she hit the race button. ”Tell me, hun, when you walked in on Booker with his nurse friend, exactly how high had...heh…the tent been risen?”

Alcohol could only blind Vanessa so much to her friend’s obvious ploy. When two very good gamers were getting trounced by computer-controlled characters, foul play was afoot. For whatever reason, Winnie was losing on purpose—a fact that became clearer when Vanessa watched out of the corner of her eye as her friend ruined her cart.

It was harder to piece together motive through the haze of liquor. Winnie had proposed the drinking game rules, but she made the winner the one to drink more. She had some reason Vanessa could barely remember, but it sounded like a ruse based on how the night was going. Was Winnie really trying to get her drunk?

Of course, that was a game two could play. Vanessa already did her part by ordering new shots, but she was going to have to try harder to get them both across the finish line of inebriation. She was riling up Winnie, and thanks to alcohol, her taunts seemed to be landing like headshots. What she somehow forgot was Winnie’s ability to retaliate, and her utter shamelessness in invoking Booker’s sex life. Vanessa gagged and tossed a throw pillow. ”Gross! I’m going to have to burn that out of my head!”

It took a moment for her brain to connect her complaint with the goal she so recently committed to, but she figured out a path to make things work. ”Okay! None of this nonsense now. Rule change. Winner drinks two,” she said slowly, holding up two fingers, ”and the looooooser drinks… four!” Of course, that was also accompanied by fingers aggressively representing the number.

Win or lose, they were both going to be drunk by nights end.

---

How did they get to night’s end again?

They managed to drink… well, honestly, Vanessa lost track of what they managed to drink. They played video games. So many video games. Thanks to the rules of their drinking game, they drank so many alcohol.

Vanessa was giggling over something Winnie said. Or it could have been because she remembered a joke from a ViewTube video. The only clear thing was Vanessa laughing, draped across the length of the couch with her head in her friend’s lap. ”You know, I don’t know why we don’t do more nights like this. We should do way more girls’ nights. Like… all the time.”

Their couch was catching curious glances from some of the nearby patrons, but Vanessa was oblivious to them. She was on a comfy couch, she had the best friend a girl could ask for, and there were still a few jalapeno poppers left. She grabbed one and tossed it in her mouth, careful to chew so she did not choke on it. ”You’re like… the jalapeno popper of friends. Because you’re… you’re just so good.”

Okay, admittedly Nessa got in a good shot. Being both drunk and a little frustrated, it meant that Winnie was vulnerable to certain attacks: namely, her mutation. She was all thankful to be part of the mutant crowd, but she still felt that her abilities were fairly lame. Because of that she did tend to lash out or lose concentration whenever she had to face it. Now that she was further impeded by drunk, the words irritated her slightly more than they probably should have.

Therefore it was time to retaliate with the bigger guns.

If there was one thing she knew about Nessa, it was the pressure points that she could hit in order to make the woman falter. While a majority of them were in no way, ever proper to use, the one that she favored (and was totally fair game) it was the fairly active sex life of her brother. She knew the two had accidentally had their run-ins (nothing weird) and it was always perfect to poke at those moments.

This one in particular seemed to be a solid hit. Nessa had confided in her that she had accidentally walked in on her brother and his latest girlfriend on her couch. Winnie laughed for a good five minutes and, though Nessa wouldn’t elaborate (no matter how much Winnie prodded her) it seemed that the scene was burned into her memory. Therefore, the photographer saw no reason to not reopen that scab. Nessa needed to let it breathe, after all, or it wouldn’t heal.

>>”Gross! I’m going to have to burn that out of my head! Okay! None of this nonsense now. Rule change. Winner drinks two...and the looooooser drinks… four!”

Winnie giggled, deflecting the pillow with her free hand. However it seemed that the game was no on. New rules were set into place -- rules that she could more than agree to. After all, how else was she going to win and get what she wanted from Nessa? Wait...what did she want from her again? It didn’t matter.

”Oh, bring it 80’s-Shoulder-Pads-Without-Wearing-Shoulder-Pads!” Okay, that wasn’t her best but she would roll with it.

---

Oh the times they had. The rivalry between the two girls reached legendary status as they raced round after round, switched games, blew each other’s faces off, and switched to others of various genres. At some point the two of them were playing a co-op game where they intentionally tried to screw the other up but it only resulted in a loss for the both of them -- clearly not ideal. By the end of the night, their couch was the loudest and most cheerful as the ladies finally seemed to forget whatever rivalry they had and just lounged on the couch.

Nessa rested her head on Winnie’s lap while the photographer was playing a few time trials of Genebolt, a first person shooter about an underwater city and the crazed denizens who lived within it. As Winnie tried playing one handed, she sighed, firing off lightning bolts at villains, paying little attention when they leapt upon her and hit her with scythes. With her free hand (which should have been playing the game), she reached down, stroking Nessa’s hair as she giggled and began to heap praise upon her.

>>”You know, I don’t know why we don’t do more nights like this. We should do way more girls’ nights. Like… all the time...You’re like… the jalapeno popper of friends. Because you’re… you’re just so good.”

Winnie smirked, the image of herself in the shape of a jalapeno popper arose in her head and suddenly she was very glad that she could shift into a Kiwi and not a popper. Shaking that thought away, she suddenly felt embarrassed in the limelight of being the jalapeno popper of friendship and just shook her head.

”"You...you...are...SO pretty. Like, the prettiest jalapeno popper! I...i dont even fucking CARE that how hot your brother is. AndheisveryhotandiwilldoSUCHbadthingstohimatthedropofahat, BUT YOU! YOU. ARE. THE JALAFRIENDNO POPPER ULTIMATE!!"

Maybe it was ironic considering her job, but Vanessa liked watching people play video games almost as much as she liked playing them herself. Winnie could play Genebolt and Vanessa’s brain could go on autopilot, watching as she tore through a dystopian society with lightning. Even though Winnie was not performing up to her typical standards, Vanessa kept comments to herself, not looking to convince the Brit that she should play her game with two hands.

The way Winnie was stroking her hair was nearly enough to put Vanessa to sleep. It was so relaxing, and she could do with relaxation after the week she had. It was a cute, innocent moment, and Vanessa had no reason to care if other patrons were watching them. The two friends were having a sweet, drunken evening, but they were still adhering to the “in a relationship” codes of conduct. As long as they behaved, their moment was no one’s business but their own.

Vanessa’s cheeks heated up when Winnie started singing her praises. Vanessa liked the way she looked after a long time of wanting to reach that point, but hearing Winnie remind her so emphatically that she was “the prettiest jalapeno popper” was the best thing she had heard all night. She was willing to ignore Winnie’s need to talk about sex with her brother. Was he the prettiest jalapeno popper? No. No he was not.

But in her eyes, neither was she. Vanessa firmly believed Gina was far more beautiful than her, but Winnie was also the kind of gorgeous that needed praising. "No, You! YOU'RE THE HOTTEST FRIENDLEPENO POPPLER. Like... stuuuupid hot. Like, all the people in all the everywhere see you when you walk in a room. And I totally never made any moves cuz you'rejustmymostimportantfriendandthebestthingever!" Alcohol was making Vanessa sappy and emotional, which had its own impact in diction. She always thought Winnie was beautiful, and she would have been lying if she claimed she never thought about the road not taken. In the end, she understood how important Winnie was to her as a friend, and as she learned in her other relationships, a bad breakup could damage a once-stable friendship. She was just happy to have someone that amazing and pretty in her life, and she knew it was important to make that clear sometimes.

Yeah they were fairly drunk now. An evening of trying to get the other drunk and then descending into competition had become an alcohol fueled time. Though this went against everything in Winnie’s initial plan, right now she simply didn’t care. It was what she wanted to do, what she wanted to experience, and she wanted to just have fun with it. She started all this for some reason that she couldn’t remember, but all that mattered was that right now she was having an absolute blast.

The two of them looked rather comfy on the couch. Winnie leaned back in her spot on the sofa while Nessa was sprawled out across the cushions, her head resting in the kiwi-shifter’s laps. Though it was doing poorly for the game she was playing, she sacrificed one of her hands to gently stroke the other’s woman’s hair. She looked so very comfortable and, to be honest, it felt comfortable to have her there. It was only a good thing that no mutual friends or acquaintances were there other rumors would begin to fly.

Not that Winnie cared. Anyone spread a rumor about her were quick to find her knuckle in their cheek.

When the praise began to fly, the photographer shook her head firmly. There was no way that she was going to walk away with the coveted title of being the best girl friend here. If that title belonged to anyone, it was Nessa and she was going to make damn sure that her friend knew that.

She lauded her friend, proclaimed her the jalafriendno popper of friends! There was no way that she was going to allow the other to accept less than that. However, in their inebriated state, it seemed that arguing was just going to be a thing between the two of them.

>> "No, You! YOU'RE THE HOTTEST FRIENDLEPENO POPPLER. Like... stuuuupid hot. Like, all the people in all the everywhere see you when you walk in a room. And I totally never made any moves cuz you'rejustmymostimportantfriendandthebestthingever!"

Winnie, touched by the woman’s admission (from what she could understand) shook her head. She was so touched that she wanted to cry, little caring that her character was being sliced to death by scythe-wielding maniacs. While that was maybe the most beautiful thing that was ever uttered to her, or said in the entire history of mankind (yes that includes you John f**king Fuller!), again it was a heavy crown that was not fit for her ears.

”Nooooo! I wouldn’t have let you make ANY moves!” she said, adding an overextended flourish of her arm. "But no! NO! YOU! OH my god! So hot! And nice! And awesome! You....you're gonna get married! And...and...have an apartment...with a WHITE picked fence! OH and adopt Eskimo babies! And just be...so...SO F**KING HAPPY! And... and what'll i have? Sex. I mean….looooooooooooooooooooooots of sex...but meaningless! ALL THE MEANINGLESS SEX.” She frumped. ”No one wants a kiwi…” she frowned, alcohol making her sniffle. ”T-That’s...that’s why is always the last fruit in the fruit basket! Everyone wants a juicy Ness-Orange...not a...a...fuzzy kiwi that gets caught in your teeth…” she pouted a little...then hiccuped. With narrowed eyes she smacked her lips. ”That tasted like cranberry.”

Winnie’s face when Vanessa complimented her was enough to nearly make the telepath cry. From her angle, she was not going to get a read on the Brit’s thoughts, and that was for the best. Vanessa wanted her friend to know how important their friendship was to her, but checking her thoughts would just be a reminder of the secrets she was keeping that threatened the integrity of that friendship. Booker was her brother and the secret was still able to shake their relationship to its core. The thought of how it could hurt Winnie brought Vanessa to the point where tears were starting to form in the corners of her eyes.

It was nice to know Winnie thought Vanessa would find her happily ever after, but it hurt to realize she did not believe the same for herself. They were close friends, but that concern was a new one, at least to Vanessa. She never realized Winnie had aspirations to find someone and settle down. It was just an accepted fact that Winnie had sworn off love and attachment. Vanessa wondered if her secret was really so bad when she was so clearly the worst freaking telepath on the planet.

"Nooo, don't say that! YOU'RE YOUNG! You have so many adventures! ALL the adventures!” Vanessa held her hands up into the air, reaching for Winnie’s cheeks so she could squish them. ”You're so amazing and if you ever decide to settle down, THE GUY OR GIRL OR MULTIPLE PEOPLE WON'T DESERVE YOU! But I hope they make you happy anyway. Because you deserve it!" If Winnie really did want to find someone one day, Vanessa wanted to see it happen. Anything that would make her friend happy would make Vanessa happy as well.

Vanessa was ready to (attempt to) continue the fruit analogy before Winnie’s hiccup caught her by surprise. The hiccup carried the taste of their most recent drink, which broke Vanessa’s focus. Once she was done giggling, she calmed down and searched for the thought she almost lost. ”I was… we were talking about… I know this. Oh! Fruit basket! That was so not true. So, so not true! Plenty of people love kiwis! They’re tasty and rare. They just acquire more work, but some really awesome person will know it’s tooooootally worth it.” Winnie would not be an easy woman to win the heart of, but someone would put in the effort because they would see the amazing girl behind the sailor’s mouth and the feathers.

Winnie was sure Vanessa would have the perfect, happy life with a wife of her own, but Vanessa’s guilt came back to gnaw at her gut. She turned her face away from Winnie. ”Sides, a kiwi is way better than an awful, secrety liar.”

It was a rare side of Winnie that she was displaying here. Normally she didn’t really care about the whole, nuclear family agenda that the world tried to push onto people. She never really saw herself settling down, having the 2.5 rugrats, and staying home while her significant other skipped away to work. Really, whenever she tried to think of herself in those terms, it actually gave her the heebie-jeebies. It just wasn’t a life that she figure could sustain her interest.

But, deep down, that didn’t mean that she wanted her entire life to be meaningless. In some ways, she was actually jealous of Nessa. Though the two women tore up the dating scene, the fact was that Nessa always kept her eye out for a future partner because she wanted to settle down. She wanted a future with someone. Winnie herself rarely looked beyond a night or two and that made her a little sad. Why didn’t she think about it more?

A competent psychiatrist would tell her it’s because she lost her mom and she had some deep-seated fear of marrying, finding happiness, and then losing it. After all, you cannot mourn what you’ve never had. Without her understanding, she was protecting herself from the world, but what kind of life was that to live?

So she sniffled, she lamented in her alcohol-fueled state, and then commented on the flavor of her hiccup before she grinned. It was a giggle-worthy moment, after all. But Nessa would pull her attention back to the scene, looking down at the brunette that seemed adamant to prove to Winnie that she will find her own happiness.

>>"Nooo, don't say that! YOU'RE YOUNG! You have so many adventures! ALL the adventures! You're so amazing and if you ever decide to settle down, THE GUY OR GIRL OR MULTIPLE PEOPLE WON'T DESERVE YOU! But I hope they make you happy anyway. Because you deserve it!"

She blushed. Then tears stung the corners of her eyes. Then she actually smiled a little as abandoned her controller, allowing her character to be viciously hacked to pieces, as she reached over and picked up her glass. She took another long sip (she did die, after all) and sighed.

”Multiple partners does sound pretty wicked…” she grinned in her haze.

>> ”I was… we were talking about… I know this. Oh! Fruit basket! That was so not true. So, so not true! Plenty of people love kiwis! They’re tasty and rare. They just acquire more work, but some really awesome person will know it’s tooooootally worth it.”

She frowned a little. Nessa really was her bestest, best friend of like...ever. She seemed like she really meant everything she was saying, even if she was drunk off her ass. The fruit basket analogy was continued and Winnie looked down, for a moment offended that her friend took her idea, but smiling a little dreamily at how Nessa tried to make kiwis sound better than they actually were. Winnie even found herself a little inspired by her friend’s words as she nodded.

”Yeah! I am, aren’t I?!” her voice raised a bit. She looked around the rest of the bar who were peering at the two loud, slightly obnoxious drunk girls. Winnie, however, didn’t seemed bothered by their gazes as she spoke up. ”You hear that, you ****wads?! UNDER ALL THIS…” she gestured to her clothing, but meaning for it to come off as more metaphorical. ”...I’M TASTY AND RARE AND...AND...TOTALLY WORTH IT!!!”

A wolf whistle rang off from something in the dark, followed by some laughter. Winnie elegantly flipped off all directions of the bar, swinging her arms around wildly (to ensure she got all sides) before she relaxed back against her seat and continued to stroke Nessa’s hair. Her friend, however, seemed to be growing just a tad morose.

>>”Sides, a kiwi is way better than an awful, secrety liar.”

Winnie stared hard at her friend, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized her ever more closely. She hiccuped again but continued to stare before her cranberry scent breath flowed out from her lips, carrying only the most intelligible words. ”You...have a secret lair?”

Nothing felt like a bigger badge of honor than cheering up a best friend. It was basically the first job requirement for best friends to be emotional support whenever the other friend needed someone. Vanessa was not always great and being sensitive and sweet, but she did her best to be a good friend in her own way, so every time Winnie smiled, it warmed her heart almost as much as the alcohol in her system.

Winnie seemed keen on the idea of multiple significant others, which was not shocking, even if it was chuckle-worthy. It fit in line with Winnie’s “variety is the spice of life” attitude. After some work, she was willing to be turned on to the idea that she was worth love and worth the time and effort it would take someone to win her over. She expressed her approval of the idea by shouting it at nearby onlookers, and Vanessa was momentarily lost in a fit of husky laughter and snorting.

Once the excitement died down, (and a bartender warned them to keep things under control,) a sense of melancholy came over Vanessa. She had to come clean to Winnie, but she was terrified. Life was so easy when she was keeping her powers harmlessly to herself, but after talking to Booker, she knew that was not an option anymore.

As scared as she was, they did call alcohol “liquid courage” for a reason, so Vanessa was going to find a way to force herself into the admission. ”No, no, no, no. No.” She added one more delayed no for good measure as she slowly propped herself up to sit next to Winnie.

Vanessa sat with her legs crossed like a pretzel and put a hand on Winnie’s cheek to guide her face so they were eye-to-eye. ”I have a secret and I need to tell you. Or… you know, show you. Just think things. Thought things.” Vanessa kept her eyes vigilantly on Winnie, not looking to miss a single thought so she could prove her point.

If there was ever anything that would break up a friendship, it was the fact that her bestie in the whole of New York turned out to have a f**king secret lair! HOW can you have a secret lair and not brag about it, huh? HUH?! That was the thought that bounced around Winnie’s alcohol-addled mind as she tried to zero in on what her friend was saying. How long had she had this secret lair? Were their dangerous artifacts? Was there a laser superweapon that could demolish planets? Winnie would have to make plans to look carefully for exhaust ports so that she could make sure to stop Nessa before her plans of universal conquest reached fruition.

Of course, with all this talk of secret lairs, Winnie had to admit that it sounded pretty cool to have one. But where would she put hers? In the sewers below the city? Nah, she wasn’t a goddamn Young Adult Freak Samurai Igauna (she loved those movies, though!). Maybe in some lavish penthouse! Psh, the rent on a place like that would be absolutely insane. She could consider putting it out in the jungle. Surely the humidity will keep her minions sweaty and wearing as little clothes as possible for their comfort. Heh. Then again, if some hero came crashing in, how seriously could she be taken if all her security forces were wearing boy shorts?

Then, of course, there was the most important part of a secret lair -- what to name it? There were a plethora of amazing names out there: the Fortress of Aloneitude, the Flying Fox Cave, the Killstar, even the atrocious Deep Suck 9…(wait, was that the name of the space station in Space Trek or was that a porn she watched?). Either way! The name! That was the key! But what could she possibly name hers?

>>”No, no, no, no. No.”

Even as Nessa squiggled and maneuvered her way to get up, Winnie was still on her train of thought. For as brilliant as she knew she was, she just couldn’t decide on a name. All of it sounded so generic or a rip off of things she had read or seen a thousand times before! Ugh, unfortunately the only branding that made sense was the very name she would have avoided at all costs.

She grumbled. ”Bleh. I don’t want to name of secret lair The Fruit Basket!” she grumped. ”Utterly f**king lame…”

It took effort but finally Nessa had Winnie’s attention. Sitting up on her knees, Winnie watched the other’s face as she placed her hands on her cheeks in an attempt to keep her eyes glued onto hers. Winnie was notably confused as Nessa had already stated that she wasn’t interested in a threesome and yet here she was, in probably the second most dangerous space from Winnifred Ann Wickham that she could be.

>> ”I have a secret and I need to tell you. Or… you know, show you. Just think things. Thought things.”

She blinked. Normally she would have just taken the opportunity to say something rude or make a funny face, but all that required effort. Thinking, though, that was something she could do. So, without any argument, Winnie sighed, stared back into Nessa’s eyes, and thought the only thoughts she could think to thought…

It was a memory. A few months back, Winnie was supposed to head over to Nessa’s place for wine, cheese, and badly done lesbian midnight movies. However, upon reach said door, it was locked. Therefore Winnie had to make her way up, to the roof, and take the fire escape down (a measly door wasn’t going to stop her from bad acting). But, as she climbed through the open window and made her way in, she was met with a sight that she wouldn’t forget -- also the subject to this little thought experience: Booker, in all his perfection and glory, stepping out of the bathroom, fresh from a shower. He screamed. She screamed. Then she realized she had gotten the day wrong.

Oh well, it was worth it as it immediately made a comfy spot in her memory.

Winnie did not get on Vanessa’s page right away. In fact, she seemed to be taking a long detour through a mental manual of secret lair planning. It was a tangent and totally off the mark, but it gave Vanessa the time to slowly move herself to a prime telepathy position. It was important to meet someone’s eyes directly to get a good read, and in an ideal world, that meant more uncomfortable eye-contact than a random person would be okay with.

Fortunately, Winnie was not some rando. She was Vanessa’s best friend and making her uncomfortable was a challenge. They had perfect, unbroken eye contact, which was drawing curiosity from the crowd around them, but Vanessa had to focus on picking up a clear message.

The memory Winnie found on command was not one Vanessa was exactly happy with. Between Winnie and Charlie, Vanessa was ready to call the fire escape a great weakness in the Bookman apartment defense. Vanessa cringed at the recreated sight of Booker’s… Little Book? Booklet? The thought of a potential name was officially too much and she flinched away from the eye contact. She got what she needed, but at what cost?

”Ugh! Bleh. Wow. Okay.” Vanessa was steering clear of Winnie’s eyes, choosing to keep her gaze lower, locking onto where she guessed Winnie’s belly button was. ”You came to my place a few months ago. You got the dates wrong for lesbian movie night—again. You snuck in through the fire escape like a crazy person, and as such, you saw… just way too much of my brother.” A delayed shudder ran up her body.

Hoping Winnie would be too occupied by the newer, more surprising news than old memories of Booker’s junk, Vanessa returned her eyes up to meet Winnie. She was only the second person Vanessa was willingly sharing her power with, so she wanted to know what kind of thoughts ran through someone’s mind when they realized their friend was a telepathic mutant.

Whatever Nessa was trying to tell her, Winnie just didn’t buy it. He was sure that her friend was just busy trying to make herself more interesting or she was so blasted that she was making up stories about herself. She wanted to show the photographer something but Winnie couldn’t even fathom what it could be. Nessa seemed to think it was important, that it could be friendship-ending, but to Winnie she was just prepared for either a drunken smooch or cheap feel. Which of them would be the offending party, she wasn’t sure, all she knew was that things tended to be squeezed when she had this much alcohol.

But, she would try to comply. Sitting cross-legged, she sighed as she turned her tired eyes onto her friend, the woman who was trying so hard to stare into her eyes. Winnie didn’t make it easy, though, darting her gaze left and right, up and down, before she finally settled into her eyes friends. She wanted her to think thoughts, so considering her good mood she thought of one that was most prevalent in her mind. One that she was sure Nessa wouldn’t approve of but she didn’t care.

Oh it was an image that was perfectly burned into her mind. Maybe she embellished a little in her mind’s eye, but so what? Who didn’t imagine a celebrity with bigger assets than they already had? Honestly it would have probably been a crime to not do it. So painted herself a nice little picture of that meeting, almost wanting to carry it to another level, until she felt and heard Nessa recoil.

…Huh.

>>”Ugh! Bleh. Wow. Okay....You came to my place a few months ago. You got the dates wrong for lesbian movie night—again. You snuck in through the fire escape like a crazy person, and as such, you saw… just way too much of my brother.”

Winnie didn’t say anything at first. All she did was stare at her old friend staring at her staring back. Her face was utterly expressionless except for the slowly dull waiver of her posture due to her alcohol-induced state. She started back at Nessa, hard, blinking, then she gulped up down some saliva. She stayed like this for quite a few moments, a blank portrait of Winnifred Ann Wickham, a painting, a Mona Lisa...a Winnie Lisa; but it was a state that wouldn’t last. Eventually she would move and, when she did, there came a sound few would have expected her to make.

She snorted. She rolled her eyes. Lastly Winnie then reached up and patted Nessa’s face with the palm of her hand, though with maybe just a little too much force as that last hit would sound like a slap to those paying attention. Winnie, however, wasn’t mad, simply giggling as she shook her head and sat back against the couch, giving Nessa an unamused, yet amused, look.

”Duh, b****,” she said with a shake of her head. ”I’m the one that told you that story.” She did not. ”I remember it as clear as day…” She didn’t. ”I called you up and bragged about seeing Booker’s encyclopedia britannica.” That was a lie. However, Winnie was too drunk to think she was saying anything other than the absolute truth. She waved her hand at her friend, running her fingers over her face as she rested against the couch and picked up her controller again. ”No, stop trying to distact me. I’m trying to defeat that sick bastard Ryan Andrews and his perfect society.” She hiccuped. ”DOWN WITH COMMUNISM!!!”