Chapter Text
Honestly, Lena didn’t need a reason to get drunk. The fact that Jesse had brought home booze was as good a reason as any to get smashed.
Something she regretted when she woke up the next morning and found her hair covered in stickers and what she assumed was her leftover noodles from the Thai place down the street.
…Scratch that—It was 2 PM, her mouth tasted like a lifetime of bad ideas, and she was going to strangle her roommate.
Practically dragging herself out of her room, Lena encountered the first oddity of the day when she looked in the mirror.
‘lenaaaaa’
‘dollfafe’
‘head’
‘eyebow’
Covering her face were labels from a label maker, and with a grimace Lena pulled one from her neck, the words ‘propty of AL’ falling into the sink alongside the noodles. Where the hell’d a label maker even come from?
“McCree! What the fuck did you do to me last night!” She stormed into the living room, knowing that Jesse would be passed out on the floor or couch instead of his bed after a night of booze, and was rewarded by a high pitched whine.
Curled up on the floor next to the couch was Jesse McCree, shirt puled up over his face, and the Roomba in a death grip. The robot was making forlorn beeping sounds, and each time it did so, Jesse tried to dig his face further into his arm.
At this point, Lena had no sympathy, but she wasn’t going to let the only thing in the apartment that did anything die of an empty battery.
“Let go of the Roomba, love. It’s gonna die and take forever to recharge if you don’t let me plug it in, you daft prick!” Crouching, she barely managed to pry it away from him, and carried it to the recharging station.
Then Lena turned to really look at the room. There were cans and bottles all over the place, a small mountain of half-eaten fast food—where the noodles had come from obviously—and the offending item.
“Leeeeena…why’s the world so loud?” His arms now holding nothing but his aching head, Lena watched as Jesse rolled onto his stomach, grumbling and whining until she threw one of the couch throws over his head.
“I dunno. Why’d you buy a label maker?” God, today more than ever she was glad that her hangovers weren’t so severe. Jesse looked like death, or so she assumed seeing as he was covered up now.
Instead of a reply, he seemed to shrink under the blanket, a feat since the blanket wasn’t that large, and Lena sighed.
“You owe me for cleaning this shit up.”
And he owed her even more once she really looked into the kitchen. There was no need for him to have put a sticker on absolutely everything! The bathroom wasn’t any better once she really looked around, picking ‘shoap’ from the bar of soap beside the sink, and finding what looked like 9 stickers with the word ‘water’ floating in the toilet.
Jesus, even her overalls and work keys were labeled.
Later that night, after Jesse had eaten something and taken at least 3 painkillers, Lena made a point of holding up the label maker, shaking her head, and hiding it.
“This thing is too dangerous in your hands, and if I find you with one again, I’m going to bean you in the head with something.”
(At least Bastion was a cute name for the Roomba.)