audio;

[candothat]

[Chekov has been maintaining radio silence since the fifteenth. The rampant alcohol-induced misery in the City, however, prompts a network post.]

Celebrations yesterday, vomiting in the streets today. It feels like the first of January.

My father has told me many ways to cure a hangover--some of the ways are ridiculous--so I will share his better suggestions. Drink pickle brine; the potassium, magnesium, and electrolytes will help. Mineral water is good, too, as is kvass, but I don't know there to find that in the City. If these don't help, jump into a very cold body of water. The cold should be enough of a distraction to make you forget your other miseries.

[There's an uncertain pause.]

Also, I have a question.

I realize that, normally, actions taken during curses are to be forgiven. What if a cursed action is encouraged or preceded by uncursed actions? Say--and this is only an example--two friends have an argument, and that becomes a fight. Maybe the fight is somewhat violent, but not so bad until the curse takes hold and one of the participants does something extreme. When uncursed and cursed are close like that, how do you know where one turns into the other? Is there a time when a cursed action is not forgivable?

[He clears his throat. It's a troubling topic, which is why he feels a need to end on an entirely different note.]

Pickle brine for hangovers. Remember that. You heard it from a Russian, and a Russian never lies about these things.

Comments

Private

[mightbeconcussed]

Be careful and see you soon.

[When he arrives, Lucy will already be in the process of cooking. Let's face it, she's been stress cooking for hours already. Hope he likes fried chicken and other Southern comfort type foods.]

Action

[candothat]

[Chekov lets himself in. The food smells wonderful; in spite of his frequent references to the superiority of Russian cuisine, Pavel is not a particularly picky eater.]

Lucy, how long have you been cooking?

Action

[mightbeconcussed]

[She's kind of gotten accustomed to him letting himself in and she's sort of absorbed in both cooking and listening to some upbeat, poppy sort of music. She doesn't actually hear Pavel come in until he speaks. When he does, she abandons what she's doing (which happens to be battering fried chicken to put it in the deep fryer) and practically flies across the room to hug him. Her arms wrap around him and she buries her face against his chest. She's barefoot so she's just about the height to bury her head against his chest.]

I don't know. A few hours?

Action

[candothat]

[The enthusiastic greeting makes sense. After all, Chekov was probably dead the last time Lucy saw him. He hugs her close and kisses the top of her head.]

Is it helping you feel better?

Action

[mightbeconcussed]

[Lucy shrugs a little, eyes closed, listening intently to his heartbeat.]

It's keeping me busy. That's supposed to be something. I can always take extra to the Welcome Center.

Action

[candothat]

[It's there. This time, at least, there are no ill affects--not physical ones.]

Supposed to be? Lucy... [He rests his head on hers.] I'm sorry.

Action

[mightbeconcussed]

[Lucy shakes her head a bit.] You didn't mean to die, but speaking of that. It's now on the list of things you can't do.

Action

[candothat]

I will keep that in mind. [No promises, since some things are out of his control.]

Action

[mightbeconcussed]

[She pulls back enough to look up at him.] And that thing that I don't say, I do. Just so you know. In case there was any doubt.

Action

[candothat]

[He knows exactly what it is that Lucy isn't saying.] I had no doubts.

Action

[mightbeconcussed]

Good. [And quick change of subject because even dancing around it makes her nervous.] You should sit down. Or lay down. [A pause] do you sm---crap.

[And she's pushing away from him to go snatch fried chicken out of the deep fryer.]

I think it's okay. Just crispy. Sit down. I'll bring you food. We'll watch a movie.

Action

[candothat]

[He follows her into the kitchen.]

Can I help? There isn't anything wrong with me.

Action

[mightbeconcussed]

[She hesitates, biting her bottom lip a bit.] Except you were dead yesterday. [She forces a smile and tilts her head at him in that dumb blonde way she has that's entirely intentional.] You can get the plates out from the cabinet there.

Action

[candothat]

I recovered. [He goes for a joking tone, but it falls flat. Physical recovery was the easy part.

And he can't help but feel that Lucy is patronizing him. He complies.] I'm sure that won't be too strenuous.

Action

[mightbeconcussed]

[She catches that tone, the one that says he thinks she's patronizing him and picks up a dish towel and tosses it at him.] Fine. How do you feel about mashing potatoes while I make gravy?

[If he wanted to pretend things were normal and do the domestic thing with her, then she'll attempt to comply.]

Action

[candothat]

I can do that.

[And so he will. All he wants right now is normal--it's a distraction, or a way to pretend that nothing happened. What's funny is that dying was the easy part.]

Action

[mightbeconcussed]

[She transfers the potatoes to a bowl, adds milk and a stick of butter then passes the bowl to Chekov along with a masher.] Just until it's smooth-ish.

[She turns to the stove and starts a rue of butter and flour for the gravy, adding milk to it at the right time and then stirring until it's thick.

She remembers.]

The nightmares will go away. Eventually. [She assumes he has nightmares. She knows she did.]

Action

[candothat]

[He starts smashing away, perfectly happy to continue not talking about things like dying. Lucy's words are unexpected and stop him in his tracks.]

...You had nightmares?

Action

[mightbeconcussed]

Sometimes I still do. For a while I had room mates and I never, ever slept alone. That helped. Having someone warm and there when I woke up, but for a while they were an every night sort of thing.

Action

[candothat]

[He abandons the potatoes to hug Lucy tightly.]

How long ago was it? [When she died.]

Action

[mightbeconcussed]

[She presses a kiss against his shoulder and hugs him back just as tightly.]

A couple of years ago. I was City Dead for a really long time. [She pulls back a bit to look at him.]

Which is not my point. It gets better. It just takes time and help. You've got me.

Action

[candothat]

Why so long? [He doesn't want to know how. That would fuel nightmares.]

Thank you, Lucy. [And, with some hesitation:] May I stay the night?

Action

[mightbeconcussed]

I don't like the deities? [The first answer is a little flippant. She hesitates before she ges to the real reason.] I thought maybe...maybe I'd be less...fun to kill if I was already dead. [She thought that maybe it wouldn't ever happen again, being killed by a psychopath, if she was city!Dead.]

Yeah. I was hoping you'd want to. I even put clean sheets on the bed. Not that we have to do anything to get them dirty. There can be just cuddling.

Action

[candothat]

[If he could hug her any tighter, he would.] Lucy... [As much as he wants to promise her that he'll make sure nothing ever happens to her again, he knows that's not a promise he can keep.]

I would like that. Cuddling.

Action

[mightbeconcussed]

[She tiptoes, pressing her body closer to his, her fingers winding in his hair. She knows he would do anything to keep something from happening to her again. That's not even a question, but this isn't supposed to be about her. She just wanted to comfort him.]

Good. Me too.