WHO: Thomas McCormack, Samantha Cadwallader, and Andrea Johnson
WHAT: Rough nights and early morning visits
WHERE: Thomas' flat
WHEN: This morning!
The light knocking on his front door almost went ignored. Thomas had not gotten the best night of sleep, and seeing that it was a late practice day, he was allowing himself some extra time in bed. The only reason he pulled the covers off and managed to drag himself out was that he was sure it was Samantha at the door. He couldn’t exactly leave his girlfriend out there, and he let out a breath as he padded his way through his bedroom, the hallway, past the guest room, and through the living room. He probably should have been up already to start breakfast, or brunch, whatever the time called for, but she would understand if he did not have a four-star restaurant meal on his dining room table.
Thomas gave his reflection the once over through the window by the front door.
“You look like you partied
way too hard,” the mirror drawled. Thomas sneered at it, patting down his bed hair and straightening the collared shirt he’d fallen asleep in. Yawning once more, to get it out, he peered through the peephole, and sure enough, it was Sam. He looked a right mess, but he couldn’t find the energy to look decent.
“Morning,” he said when he’d opened the door. Thomas looked sheepish for a moment, “Sorry, I overslept.”
Samantha gave a small shrug, offering a smile back to him. “You’re fine,” she said, not feeling too worried about the oversleeping. They didn’t have major plans for the day, and the real focus was being around him anyway, so having an over slept boyfriend wasn’t going to throw her off terribly. They were both terribly busy and she didn’t blame him for looking tired and exhausted. If she could have slept in, she would have done the same thing. She was still off on her biological clock after being in Egypt for a while, so sleeping in still seemed to have her waking up at 5 am. She gave him another once over before grinning. He didn’t usually look this disheveled. “Rough night?” she asked curiously, a twinge of amusement present in her voice.
She had a messenger bag thrown over her shoulder, and she took a moment to readjust it. “I brought home souvenirs. Forgot about them until late last night. It’s not much, but...I guess it’s always important to commemorate life threatening events, eh?” She had something small for Thomas, and Samantha was definitely excited to share it with him.
“Very rough,” he said, kissing her quickly before stretching his neck to try and get a look over her shoulder at what she’d brought. It was good having Samantha back in England, even though they really didn’t know how their schedules would end up. Thomas did not like that sort of anxiety, and he would force himself to keep his mind off of the idea that he and his girlfriend could not spend more than two straight months together at a time.
He led her to the living room, fixing his shirt and shorts so that he looked somewhat presentable.
His night really had been rough, and it was a very interesting tale, too, just not one he was sure how to bring up without it sounding strange. Though, really, all he’d done was be a good captain, so Samantha should appreciate that part of it, right?
“In a bit of a fury I went to that club, the---the funky buddha?” Thomas shook his head, still unable to get the pounding of the music out from between his ears. The few shots he had taken had really worked a number on him, but his goal had been achieved, “I had to pick up one of my girls.”
The affectionate way he referred to the Arrows girls was probably not the best to use, so Thomas clarified his words.
“My seeker, I mean.” The sound of a toilet flushing somewhere in his flat woke him up even further, and he raised a hand, “Right on cue.”
The separation from Thomas wasn’t any easier for Samantha to deal with; she wanted to spend so much time with him, but their schedules just weren’t cooperating on that front. And it wasn’t as if Thomas could do much to change
his work schedule around...it had crossed Samantha’s mind a few times that she should request fewer field trips, that she should be sent only when necessary, and possibly only during those times when Quidditch season was on an upswing. Thomas’s off time was certainly not the time to be traipsing through jungles or tombs...but things were going to be busy for the next few months. She wasn’t going to think about it for now.
She smiled as he tried to peer over her shoulder, before following him in. She began carefully digging through her bag, pulling out two small boxes. One held a replica Sphinx that would move and pose riddles to anyone who paid it mind (she thought it might intrigue her Ravenclaw boyfriend), the other held a decent sized vial filled with sand from the desert. But the boxes were placed on a coffee table and then forgotten as he gave her the abridged version of his evening. Her brow furrowed as he mentioned picking up a girl, the confusion furthered by the flushing toilet before he clarified.
Samantha didn’t have much knowledge of Andrea Johnson, but what little she had read wasn’t very promising. This was a girl who partied and flung herself at any available male--at least, according to the tabloids. And Thomas had brought her
home?! True he was her captain and there had to be a logical reason for it but--for Pete’s sake, Samantha
just got home after being gone--and he chose
that night to bring Andrea Johnson home?
“And you brought her home?” Samantha asked slowly, the confusion still clearly present on her face.
Thomas looked up from the toy sphinx with an expression that seemed just as confused, “Of course I did. I couldn’t leave her there.”
The Tattler wasn’t the
only one with connections. One of the bartenders from the club had sent Thomas a quick message to let him know that Andrea had gone a little overboard when it came to the partying and drinking.
Well. Thomas hadn’t thought it made much sense that their seeker, who hadn’t caught the snitch since September, should be out partying like they’d won the bloody cup. The Arrows were just barely scraping into the playoffs, and this last week was going to determine whether or not they still had a chance.
So, he’d taken their fate into his own hand, literally.
“She was pissed out of her mind,” Thomas continued, letting the sphinx walk into his palm and then up his forearm. It was really rather neat. “Couldn’t tell me where she lived, so---” He shook his head, watching the sphinx carefully, “She’s going to be on lockdown for the next week.”
He couldn’t leave her there. Of course. She watched the sphinx as it walked up Thomas’s arm, trying to take in everything he was saying with an open mind. He was looking out for her well-being, and she knew that. It was just--was there no one else to watch her? There probably was, Samantha thought as she pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger, before letting out a small breath. But that wasn’t how Thomas functioned. She knew that well enough by now. This was probably him trying to be the best captain possible, even if it meant bringing home a wasted girl to keep her from ruining their chances at the playoffs. And an entire week? What happened if they did well and they made the playoffs? Would she just keep on staying at his house? All of those thoughts and questions were interrupted, however, by Andrea’s entrance to the living room.
Andrea had a terrible headache, thank you very much. Whoever thought it would be brilliant to be so
loud at this time of day could just piss off--and she didn't care who she was telling off at that point. Clad in the shortest mini skirt she owned and a bra, Drea stumbled into the room and shortly after that into a table, stubbing her toe. "Bloody hell," she moaned, trying helplessly to find a place to sit so she could keep from putting pressure on the damn thing.
It was so bright in the sitting room, she didn't know where she was at the moment, but her eyes were cracked enough to see Thomas and some blonde bird standing there staring at her. "Thomas, th'fuck's going on here?" she groaned, covering her eyes with her hand in attempt to keep out the light.
Thomas gave Andrea a long, frustrated stare. After a year of being the only bloke on the team, he was used to the various types of bras and undergarments that the women of the Arrows traipsed around with. It wasn’t enough that they had their own locker room and suite, no, they liked to invade the men’s locker room as well and Thomas often got an eyefull. But, they were his teammates, he was their
captain, so it was easy for him to keep his mind on the right track.
“Johnson, do you remember
anything?” he said, sounding annoyed. He grabbed one of the blankets that was draped across the back of the couch and he tossed it at her. “You’re a mess, go get dressed.”
He turned back to Samantha with a shake of his head, though his ears had turned pink. Not exactly the way he wanted to start his morning, and Thomas rubbed the back of his neck, “I probably should’ve owled you this morning.”
Drea rolled her eyes at him as she grabbed the blanket. It wasn't until she was about to open her mouth to snap back at him that she
truly realized that they were not alone in the room. She gave Samantha a once over, trying to place the girl before it finally clicked.
"Go ahead, yell at me a bit more, McCormack, show off for your girlfriend," she replied snidely. She walked over to Samantha, holding out the hand that had been holding the blanket, letting it fall down to the ground. "Andrea Johnson," she said in a gravelly tone. "Pleased to make your--" Her thought was interrupted as her body heaved and vomit fell down upon Samantha's feet. Drea had spent a good chunk of the night in the loo, her body insisting to empty the contents of her stomach, so it came as a bit of a surprise to her that there was anything left.
Drea moaned, pulling her hand back that had been extended in pleasantries. "I'll just--fuck," she muttered. "A towel or--" She walked away from the living room, her intentions split between the clothing Thomas had demanded of her, and retrieving a towel to clean up the mess she had just made.
Samantha had been ready to respond to Thomas's comment about an owl--hell, he could have owled her last
night and she would have helped him out in the situation. If Drea needed cleaning up or help getting ready for bed, she would have much rather been around than sitting here the morning after thinking about everything--she knew that Thomas could be trusted and that this was his job to deal with all these women, but trying to deal with
this alone--it put a strain on that trust.
And then she threw up on her shoes. Samantha let out a shaky breath as she watched the seeker walk away, before rubbing her forehead. And then she laughed. She didn't know where it came from, or why--but after everything in the last month...maybe she needed to laugh. "Oh my Lord, Thomas...if you don't win that cup I don't know what I'm going to do with myself..." she said finally, letting out another short, shaky breath. She fished her wand out of her bag, a quick scouring charm easily cleaning her shoes and the hemline of her pants. “Anyone who works this hard and cares this much obviously deserves it.”
“MERLIN’S----!” Thomas let out as...Andrea
let out all over Samantha’s shoes. She was the most embarrassing----He gave Samantha a terribly sorry expression, looking humiliated
for his seeker as his girlfriend cleaned herself up. His face flushed deeper at her comment, unsure if she was being sarcastic or serious, because if someone had just gotten sick on
his shoes, Thomas was sure that he would not be dishing out pleasantries.
He rushed up to Samantha and took hold of her upper arms, planting a kiss on her lips before jumping away quickly. If anything, he was appreciative that she was shrieking up a storm and causing a bigger scene than Andrea already had. “I’m sorry. I have to---make sure she doesn’t----all over the cat!”
Thomas backed up, tripping over the footstool before catching his balance and hurrying after his seeker.
“The cat, Thomas? Really?”
Okay, so Samantha didn’t say that out loud, but she wanted to terribly. Instead she let out another loud sigh and sat down on the couch, burying her head in her hands. She felt something crawl onto her lap and when she looked down, she realized it was the sphinx--Thomas must have let it drop to the couch in his haste. It curled up and sat down on her leg before peering up at her.
“I never was, am always to be. No one ever saw me, nor ever will. And yet I am the confidence of all, To live and breathe on this terrestrial ball. What am I?” it crooned at her, its front legs kneading into hers as it got comfortable.
“Oh, shove off,” Samantha murmured. “I’m in no mood right now.”
Drea was in the guest room that--well, she didn’t remember staying in it, but the bedding was disheveled and her shoes were lying in a heap by the door so it probably was her room. She searched through the bed, hoping to find her missing shirt before letting out a sigh. It was absolutely hopeless, and she’d vomited on her captain’s girlfriend’s shoes and she felt like shite and all she wanted to do was crawl back in bed and sleep--or have a drink. But no, she knew that Thomas would never allow that.
The towel and shirt forgotten, Drea pulled herself under the covers, wanting to block out as much light as possible.
