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Vanya hates these things.
All the pomp and ceremony, all the fake smiles and shaking hands with people who you don’t even catch the name of. All for what? So they look good, so they look like they care. What’s the charity even for? It’s just abbreviations and some vague ass pledge, she’s half a mind to ask Pagan before thinking better of it. If she doesn’t know, Pagan will have even less of an idea. He’ll merely go to look good, to be a Nuisance and hopefully annoy someone horrifically rich and pompous.
Honestly, it’s the only reason she agreed to go.
That and the gorgeous suit she now sports. Almost an exact copy of Pagan’s cut, but in such shades of luscious green it had made tonight worth it. Oh, and booze. The Pagan Apocalypse, the suit and booze.
‘You just had to, didn’t you?’ Pagan seethes, arms crossed and foot a-tapping as he glares over at a very smug Vanya. A smug, tall Vanya who keeps her gaze everywhere but on him. Even as her lips twitch, even as Pagan huffs just below her eyeline.
‘Hmm?’
‘Don’t you hmm me, you know full well what I’m talking about,’
The grin is large and telling, the charade dropping. ‘Oh, Pagan,’ And she bends a little at the knee, almost busting a laugh as Pagan’s jaw ticks. ‘I didn’t see you all the way down there!’
‘I specifically said, no heels. Yes, Vanya?’
‘You said this, yes,’
‘And?’
Vanya pauses, considers her answer, considers the room. Really hams up the silence, just a touch too long. ‘I decided to ignore you,’ she shrugs, careless, enjoying herself immensely as she receives another little huff. She knows he’s not angry, not truly; more bored and not nearly as drunk as he needs to be. ‘Don’t get upset, would you like to get on my back and feel big for a while?’
‘Kinda.’
‘That’s 7, by my count,’ Pagan mutters, returning to the table and grinning like a smug cat. A cat that got the cream, if that cream was mid-range champagne that is. The bottle between them is almost dead, coupled with the drinks they’ve taken to stealing just for the petty thrill of it... Pagan is on his way to slurring. Vanya, not so much. She can handle her booze, kind of. Better than Pagan, at least and that’s what really counts.
Slipping her game face on, Vanya carefully considers the remaining prawns that have been sitting upon their table – stolen from someone, probably – with far too much concentration. They’re far too risky to eat, it's far too early to leave and they’re just on the wrong side of tipsy for this not to be Fun.
So far 12 prawns sit are scattered within the room. Some in handbags, jacket pockets and the like. One sits precariously on the brim of some idiot’s ugly fedora, tucked in to the band just enough to hang on for dear life. She has no idea how he managed it, but it leaves Vanya oddly competitive.
‘5 for me, how are you so good at this?’ she mutters, not at all annoyed thank you very much. Still too focused on her prawn selecting, already cupping three of the slippery buggers in her palm.
‘How do you know I haven’t been practicing for years, all for this one moment?’
‘A weird flex, but instantly believable. I bow to you, King Prawn,’ And she does, prawns in hand and carefully held away from the suit. It's a fantastic suit.
‘Do not.’ Pagan plays for unamused, which would be more effective if he wasn’t chortling into more champagne.
‘She’s looking, again,’ It’s a growl. Vanya is aware of that, without being able to stop it. ‘Do you know her?’
There is a Woman. A woman who has yet to not glance their way at least once a minute for the past half hour, or at least, Pagan’s way. Which, fine. People do that, he’s bright pink with hair so blonde it’d make Barbie pissy ... but this bitch is doing Eyes. It is not okay, and if the way Ajay is slowly edging into her periphery is anything to go by, he knows that too. It’d be cute, if she wasn’t steadily growing madder.
‘Who?’ A glance, more drink. Tonight is really dragging. ‘ Oh Thingy of the boring hair, yes, I know her,’ he mutters, dismissive. Vanya glares some more, it’s a really good glare. She’s been told so, on numerous occasions. ‘Dear Lord, calm down. Not carnally, what do you take me for?’
‘Vanya, please,’ Ajay is fully before her, all eyes and understanding and aww. It’s going to be a shame when she throws him aside. Strangely enough, she doesn’t have to. Pagan is yanking him away and to his side, all without giving up his sprawl across two chairs. He only nearly falls.
‘No no , let her go. She’s defending my honour, Ajay,’
‘She’s about 20 years too late,’ It’s said quietly, but with real feeling. Pagan laughs, because of course he does. ‘How much have you two actually drank?’
‘Oh, at least four, right dear?’
And Woman of the boring hair does a practiced giggle and eye flutter, all while looking their way. There are Kill Bill sirens. Vanya is advancing without any real knowledge of when that started, but hell, she’s seeing it through.
‘Ya vyrvu yey zuby cherez zhopu!’
‘I’m sure, I have every faith in you,’
Ajay sighs, sitting on a portion of chair not currently taken up by Pagan’s feet. ‘What did she say?’
‘Absolutely no idea.’
When Ajay turns the corner onto a fight, his first instinct is to turn right back around and pretend like nothing’s happening. Just drunk idiots at a party, being drunk and idiotic in an isolated hallway. Except he recognises these idiots, they’re his idiots for the night. Grappling, both shaking and still letting out the odd giggle of the drunk and stupid. It takes a moment to remember why he even came looking for them, let alone what he should say to them.
‘Uhh , do you want help or,’ he pauses in time for Pagan to give out a very undignified ‘ oof‘ of air, looking confused at his new position on the floor. Vanya has a knee against his hip and a hand on a shoulder, grinning down at him like a feral animal. ‘A referee or something?’
‘Ajaaaay , darling,’ Only Pagan could look so confused and yet so pleased about it. ‘Stop with that face, just a bit of fun. This is just friendly competition,’
‘Really doesn’t look that way,’
Which is a lie. It sort of does look all sorts of fun, if you’re the type of man who likes being gently mugged that is. Lucky for Vanya, Pagan is exactly that type of man.
‘That’s because he’s losing two to one,’ Vanya is smug, all wild curls and gloating down at her husband. ‘Would you like a time out? A juice break ?’
Apparently, teasing is all Pagan needs for round two... Or is it four now?
‘Uh, okay. The rep for, uh, someone is looking for you, just,’ With a shake of his head, Ajay slowly backs away. ‘I’ll say you’re on a call.’
‘Onward, trusty steed!’ Pagan’s voice cries from a hallway, somewhere just behind Ajay’s left. Again, he sighs. At least this one won’t be as confusing at the WWE in the hallway. He knows this game, has seen it countless times before. When one drunk idiot loves another drunk idiot very much, they decide that picking each other up and charging dangerously about the place is Good Fun.
‘Stop digging in your heels or I’ll throw you out a window,’
‘Treason!’
Finally, the two arrive. Or, well, Vanya arrives with a Pagan on her back that is equal parts floppy and clingy. She’s readjusting her grip with a little jump, never breaking that steady stride as she comes to a stop just before Ajay. It’d be hilarious, sure, if it wasn’t so embarrassing. The room has dissolved into quiet whispers, gossip flying. The idiots don’t realise, instead they grin. As they are idiots.
‘Vanya, no,’ he sighs, he’s been sighing a lot tonight. ‘You two, please,’
‘Oh hush, I’ve given away enough money. I can behave how I like now, right horsey?’ Pagan pulls himself forward enough to force his face into her periphery. Heels ‘spurring’ as Vanya rolls her eyes. There’s far too much giggling from two grown adults.
‘I will launch you, Pagan, see if I don’t,’ With a shake, Vanya looks down her nose at Ajay and straightens (as best she can with a Pagan limpet). ‘The little King wishes to make potty,’
‘Down there,’
‘YAH!’