Incapacitated
“Your wife is going to kill you.”
“Too late. I think the booze already has.” Maes wobbled another few steps, only to be wrangled back away from the street by a rather exasperated Roy.
It was a comic confusion of limbs, a groping, grasping entity that couldn’t be contained by the sidewalk, and was almost defeated by the front door.
Boots were shed only when gravity won through its unholy alliance with inebriation and Maes’ ass was introduced to the tile floor of the foyer.
A hiccup and a giggle hauled a sigh from a slightly more sober Roy, who righted Maes’ boots, took a small mitten away from the amused and bemused man, and then had the grace to blush as he caught sight of Gracia standing in the kitchen, watching their antics with the silent tolerance of a saint.
“Ah…”
“Save explanations for when you are sober enough to be convincingly not at fault.” Gracia smiled, and pulled her robe close against the chill night air that had followed her husband and their lover in. “You can figure out how to get Maes into bed, Roy.” The gleam in her eyes was decidedly wicked as she left Roy to sort out how to get Maes off the floor.
Warm blankets.
Roy concentrated at the prize that waited at the end of his endeavor as he attempted to get Maes to distinguish up from down. “This is the last time I let you gather intelligence in a bar. Honestly…did you have to see what would happen if you mixed that Xingian swill with everything?”
“It was colorful.”
“You’re impossible.”
“I love you.”
“You’re drunk”
“Looks like it.”
“That was my foot.”
“I thought so.”
“Keep it down out there. Elysia is sleeping.”
“Yes ma’am!” Maes tried to snap to attention, to pull a jaunty salute, and only managed to tumble back to the floor.
Thankfully Roy landed between Maes and the tile, effectively cushioning his fall.
