Chapter Text
Grace stumbled down the hall, his hand brushing against it to keep him steady. This hadn't been the plan for the night. The plan had been to beat Ilyukhina in trivia game and go back to his room the proud winner of a chocolate bar, and the knowledge that he was number one in science on The Vat. Stratt's Vat. Stratt. He'd been thinking about her a lot lately. Or at least tonight. She was going to be mad that he got drunk, but he hadn't meant to. He suspected the alcohol they pre-poured had been mixed with various bottles to make it stronger in each shot, but he couldn't be sure. It sure tasted strong, but after the third one he wasn't tasting it much.
He got competitive under alcohol. It's why he hadn't had more then a watery beer the night of karaoke. It wasn't a trait he liked in himself, but it wasn't inherently bad either. It only surfaced when there was some sort of game, and he didn't get violent or angry, he got silly. He got giggly and refused to leave until he won. He wasn't even sure why. He wasn't sure when it started, some time after high school when he got drunk for the first time and his friends realized he was way more fun than normal if they proposed a challenge. Drink to win, or party to win, or try to land a back flip to win. Would Stratt be a competitive drunk?
She wasn't necessarily competitive. That wasn't the word for it. She walked into a room already knowing she'd won, no matter what the topic was. Grace was confident, but Stratt had a sort of supernatural premonition power that told her exactly how to win every time. She didn't even consider anyone else at a level that they could overpower her. When she did hit obstacles, she had thought out responses already planned. When red tape held her back, she brought scissors. And it was kind of…
Where were those thoughts coming from? Oh yeah, he was drunk. Hehe. Stratt was powerful, and he was kind of… what was that word the others had said? Whipped? He was okay with that. He liked being her "loyal dog" as the others called it, a little too much he feared. He liked belonging, and he liked following orders in a way that earned him that very private, very mild, tiny smile at the corners of her mouth. There was always a sparkle in her eyes when she did that. Something the slightest bit playful and pleased that had his heart racing every time he saw it. Did it? wait, where did that come from? Was he learning things about himself? Nah, he was just drunk.
"Stratt? Straaaaaatt!" He yelled, banging on the door in front of him. No- wait. Wasn't he going to his bedroom? It was far too late to pay anyone a visit. was this his room or hers? No, no he'd been on the way to his room. Yeah.
Grace fiddled with the handle, finding it locked and grumbling. He had a key card somewhere. Was it in his pocket? He leaned his weight against the door, feeling around his pants, then his sweater pockets. There it was, right where he left it. Good, it would be a huge blunder if he didn't have it and had to go all the way back to his room. He raised it to the electronic lock, watching as it flashed red once, twice, three times.
"What the… heckle man?! Let me i-" Grace fell forward, smacking into a body. He tried to grab on, but the person held him up much more than his muscles actually worked.
"Dr. Grace! What the hell are you doing?" Stratt snapped, pushing him back up to stand in front of her.
"Why're you in my room?"
"This is not your room! This is my room! You are-" Stratt cut herself off, blinking back surprise- or as much surprise as she would visibly show- as she heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside. Grace didn't have a chance to react before she closed the door behind him and threw a hand over his mouth. His back hit the metal and he leaned against the cold, eyes falling shut. This was… new. Was this attractive? Maybe. He wasn't sure. everything was beginning to spin too much to be sure of anything. After a few moments, or minutes, Stratt moved to let go of him completely, making him stumble forward.
"Hi!"
"Hello Dr. Grace."
"So why are you in here?" Grace asked again, shaking his head in confusion. Stratt's eye twitched, but it was the only reaction she gave him.
"This is my room. Why are you in my room?" She asked calmly. He blew out his lips like a horse and shrugged.
"I think I got lost!" He laughed, swaying towards her. She stepped back from him. Wait… was she mad? Oh no, of course she was. He was acting foolish. And he was drunk.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get…"
"Betrunken? Drunk?"
"Yeah. I thought I could win, I'm- I'm still not sure how I didn't win." He admitted, furrowing his eyebrows. Again she stayed stoic, studying his features and his body like she was reading a boring but important document.
"What were you playing?"
"Trivia night, science stuff!"
"And who did you play against?"
"Dubois, Ilyukhina-"
"Say no more. She cheated to get you drunk."
"What? No! No they wouldn't do that. They didn't… they knew the answers!" Grace defended. For the first time in their conversation her face softened a bit, and he grinned as he saw his effect on her start to take hold. Good to know she still did that when she was off the clock too. She looked away from him.
"They know you enough to know you would not back down once you have a bit to drink. Ilyukhina is notoriously competitive too, and may have ulterior motives when it comes to getting you drunk."
"What? What do you mean? You don't think she would… poison me or… draw on my face or anything, right?" He asked. She shut her eyes for a moment to gather her words.
"Did they know the answers the first few rounds?"
"No." Grace shook his head.
"Did they suddenly get better?"
"Well, yeah, but-"
"Did they imply you couldn't beat them, or suggest you should try harder?" She asked with a sigh. His face fell and he looked to his feet, kicking at the carpet.
"Yeah."
"And did they then say something about me? To implant the idea of me into your drunken mind?"
"They said you'd forgive me if I asked." Grace said quietly.
"And that made you, what, think about coming here? Stumbling your way to my room?"
"Yeah. Damn." He mumbled. When he looked back up, she had that tiny smile he so loved.
"You forgive me! I can tell…" He drew out, leaning in to nudge her arm and missing when she stepped away. Her smile fell away once again.
"Here is what you are going to do. You are going to drink the water I give you, and go to your own room. Do you understand me?"
"But I'm here. I want to be right here, with you."
"Das geht mir am Arsch vorbei, du der Oberarsch." (I don't give a shit about that, you supreme idiot.)
"Hehe… you sound funny when you do that. I like it." Grace grinned.
"Dr. Grace, focus. You… you cannot win if you do not listen to the instructions."
That got his attention. He perked up towards her, trying to stand straighter and failing. He instead puffed his chest, taking a deep breath and focusing on her lips. She was going to instruct him on how to win this challenge, whatever it was, and he had to catch every word. He couldn't mess this up or she really would be upset tomorrow.
"Good." She said flatly, and he swayed on the spot. Why did that make his heart beat so strangely?
"I am going to give you this water, and you are going to drink it. Say you will." She prompted, taking a bottle from off the desk by the wall. He grinned, taking it from her and cracking open the cap. She stuck her hand out, maybe to cheer him on, and he began chugging as hard as he could. Each gulp went fast and cold down into his stomach. Even with the deep breaths from a few moments ago, it wasn't enough to keep up on. He gasped as the bottle left his mouth, stumbling a bit on the spot.
"Okay, Grace-"
"I got this, shhh!" He waved her off, putting it back to his mouth and chugging the rest. It didn't sit well in his stomach for sure, but he didn't care. The first part of her challenge was a success. She'd be so proud of him. When he looked up, her hand was up to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Congratulation, you did well on step one."
"I knew it!" He cheered, fist pumping the air.
"For step two you must make it back to your room and sleep. You will not stop anywhere else. If anyone speaks to you, you must say you don't feel well, and you're going to bed. Is that clear?" Stratt asked.
"Yeah!"
"Repeat back to me what I just said."
"Uhhhh… go to my room. Don't stop moving. I don't feel good. I need to… lay down."
"Very good Dr. Grace. If you win, I'll give you a prize at tomorrow's meeting." She said calmly. Grace gasped, reaching out towards her, but she backed away again.
"What is it?" He asked. She thought for a moment, her head tilting ever so slightly to one side. Grace froze. Something didn't feel right.
"Oh no. We're running out of time."
"What? What does that mean?" She asked. He looked up at her through his lashes, bending over a bit.
"I don't feel so good."
"Okay, give me your sweater." She demanded, already pulling at it. He backed up dumbly, wiggling his way free of the garment and watching as she tucked it under her arm.
"Why are you takin' my fox sweater? I like the foxes."
"Because you will be a pouting nightmare if you ruin it with your vomit. Go, now. You have your challenge, and I have your prize."
"Wha's my prize?" He slurred. Oh god he didn't feel great.
"Your sweater. You may have it back tomorrow morning. Leave my room, go. I believe in you." She pointed, ushering him to the door and opening it for him.
"You believe in me?" He asked, reaching out for her. He wasn't even sure where he was aiming. His hand landed on her arm, and his gaze held with hers in a silence that felt far longer than anything they'd previously let sit while they looked at one another.
"I do. I always have. Do not disappoint me." She said gently, stoic as ever despite the care in her words. He wouldn't remember anyway.
"I won't."
"I know."