the wine, the beer, the whiskey are the only things that fix me

[pacificator]

Who: Wynonna Earp & you!
What: recuperating after March-April, reaping consequences, etc
When: backdated to late April-May
Where: the Saloon (the old Post Office)

Content Warnings: Alcoholism, a little light cannibalism, others to be listed as needed

Comments

[lieutenantsteward]

[Thomas' own aura is a steady blue haze around him, an unwavering testament to his mood. There are flickers of gold as he steps inside the saloon and spots Wynonna, the first time in what feels like forever. He'd been at the Jackrabbit, pining away, withering away, and he knew he had to get out. He's got a backpack over his shoulders and a duffel bag at his side, though he sets the latter down as soon as he steps through the door.]

You have turned this into a respectable business, Miss Earp. And to think I placed my bets against you.

[Seeing her again is like...seeing the sunshine after perpetual night. Seeing her again is like feeling warm again after a cold winter. He starts to walk quickly towards her.]

WHOOPS this is so belated apologies

[pacificator]

[ Now there's a voice she's missed.

Wynonna half-turns from where she's stocking shelves, a grin already trying to tug into place. ]

Respectable? You take that back.

[ But she's moving in the next second, vaulting up to sit on the bar and spinning to slide off again on the other side rather than waste the extra few seconds it would take to walk around it. She's spent too much time away from him already.

It only takes a few more steps after that for her to come crashing into him, careless of the cold that wafts from him even through his clothing. ]

Hey there, stranger. Come to make sure I haven't gotten stuck in a ditch without you?

<3

[lieutenantsteward]

Ah, you know I would never wait longer than a day to get you out of a ditch. [After he teased her about it, of course.

The hug is happily returned and he doesn't let go until she does. It feels good, despite the pain in his chest, the ache of the loss.]

I came for a drink.