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“I never noticed your eyes were so pretty.”
Laurel snorts. “D, you’re high as a fucking kite right now.” Slowly, so as not to aggravate Dinah’s wounds, she sets her very entertaining… friend? partner? on the couch. Dinah sinks into the couch, resting her neck against the back of the couch so she can stare at Laurel.
“Yeah, but you’re still pretty,” Dinah sighs.
Laurel raises an eyebrow at Dinah. “Hm, I thought you said my eyes were pretty?” Laurel’s retort seems to stump Dinah as she is in her current state, and so Laurel takes the opportunity to fish out the painkillers she grabbed from the lair.
“All of you is pretty,” Dinah murmurs, staring at Laurel as she taps at two aspirin for Dinah to take once her current meds wear off.
“You know,” Laurel begins casually, “you’re really going to regret all of this when you wake up tomorrow.”
“Regret what?”
Laurel pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers. Instead of responding directly to Dinah’s question, she just reaches her arms around Dinah’s ribs. “How about we get you to bed?” she asks, not really expecting an answer.
Dinah hums in response and tries to heave herself up. Laurel’s only clue that she regrets that decision is the grimace that flashes across Dinah’s face before she can hide it. Damn, Laurel thinks, even high on the good stuff she’s still stubborn.
The trip from the couch to Dinah’s bedroom is a relatively short one, and they pass the handful of minutes in silence. When they get to Dinah’s bed, Laurel sets her down gently and steps back. Stuffing her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, she takes a few steps backward. “Think you can handle things from here or do I need to dress you, too?” The last part is mocking but not harsh, and Laurel can see Dinah’s lips quirk up in the imitation of a smile.
“M’good,” she mumbles. Laurel watches as the last few hours catchup to Dinah, and the other woman yawns.
“Right, well, that’s my cue.” Laurel gives Dinah an awkward little wave before turning around. As she nears the door, Dinah stops her.
“Hey, Laurel?” Laurel turns around, eyes scanning Dinah’s face. Her expression is surprisingly serious for someone who looked like they were going to float away just a few moments ago.
“Thank you.”
Laurel wants to brush off Dinah’s comment, wants to say whatever or maybe even well, I couldn’t let the police captain bleed out, could I? Anything to distance herself from this room. But she doesn’t.
Instead, Laurel shoots Dinah a small, genuine smile. “Anytime, songbird.”
Laurel leaves, closing the bedroom door behind her, so she doesn’t hear Dinah’s words as she drifts to sleep.
“Love you, too, pretty bird.”