Driving Me Crazy • •

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

After a really long day nothing seemed to beat a glass of strong whiskey and an old movie on the TV. Of course, that could only follow a jog through Central Park with the dogs and another call to the hospital to check in on a patient who had been in the operating room with Dylan all day. The woman had needed a complicated procedure and Dylan had found himself taking longer than normal to perform it when the cardiologist he consulted about her heart condition had shown up an hour late and delayed everything. By the time Dylan had finally been able to leave the hospital the sun was already starting to set over the city and he felt more exhausted than normal.

Part of him was surprised that he even managed to peel himself out of his clothes and find the laundry bag before he collapsed into his bed for the night. He was fast asleep almost the second after he hit the pillow. Luckily he had the next day off work and just had to call in to check on the status of some of his patients. After a nice long lie in, he could wake up and spend the day out on his balcony working on his latest restoration project, which happened to be an old cabinet that had seen better days. It was rare Dylan ever passed out in this kind of slumber, but when he did there was nothing that could awake him; not until he was completely rested and ready to take on another New York day. The last thing he ever expected was to wake up and have a shock that threatened to give him a heart attack.

The warmth of the sunlight on his face slowly began to rouse Dylan from a deep sleep. Rolling over, he felt the body curled up next to him and smiled to himself, his hand creeping over the feminine curve of her hips to pull her closer to his chest. One more second passed by and then he sleepily pressed his lips to the shoulder of his companion, playfully kissing his way up to her ear. “Good morning.”

[/color] He whispered roughly, taking a moment longer for the fog to life completely from his mind and when it did those Irish eyes of his snapped open. He had gone to bed alone the night before! Propping himself up on his elbow he nervously peered over to get a better look at the blonde woman in his bed; though instinct told him he already knew who it was. Swearing loudly, Dylan all but jumped from the sheets and grabbed some pyjama pants from the drawer to pull on over his boxers. His blue eyes stared at the sleeping professor in his bed and he shook his head, his mind swirling with questions. Walking back around to where she slept, he reached down and shook her gently. “Bridget. Bridget, wake up.”[/color] He repeated, unable to spend the rest of the morning with those unanswered questions building up and up.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 548
OUTFIT! Morning Madness!
LYRICS! The Fog - - - Maroon 5
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

Bridget’s day had been hell on Earth and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why she had been in such a foul mood. Her day had actually started out well with a bit of light cleaning and then she went out to run her errands and that was right about the time things went downhill and didn’t quite make it back up again until much, much later. She’d been sitting at home with her dogs, in sweats with a barely touched pizza sitting in its box on her coffee table when Paisley got in touch and Bee agreed to hit the clubs with the other Lit professor. She needed a better way to unwind than sitting around her apartment with books, wine, pizza and her dogs for company. That was how she spent plenty of nights. So, she’d gotten herself all dressed up for a night at the comedy club and went out with a good friend for a few drinks and a few sets. The acts weren’t half bad though there was one Bridget hadn’t breathed a single giggle. She spent those seven and a half minutes downing straight shots of vodka, Sambuca and Malibu between sipping at her rum and Pepsi.

She was coherent enough at the end of the night to reassure Paisley that she didn’t need help home, hugged her friend and promised to text her when she woke up before crawling into the back of a taxi and giving the driver her address. She had still been in a party mood when she crawled into the backseat with intentions of getting into her apartment and continuing the party but the drive across the city knocked the petite blonde on her ass. By the time the driver pulled the car to the side of the road, Bridget’s world was spinning on its axis. She handed over some bills, enough for the ride and a decent tip, telling the cabbie to keep the change and slammed the door behind her. It took longer than it should have to get from the side of the road to the building and then upstairs to her floor. Bridget had her keys out and too close to her face when she hit her floor, searching out her key.

She found it, or what she thought at the time was hers, unlocked the door, letting herself in and locking it all up behind her once again. Her high heel open toe teal pumps came off somewhere between the road and the door and now dropped from her hands to the floor along with her clutch. Her second skin tight black strapless dress followed close behind those. And the black strapless bra she’d been wearing followed suit just before she found her bed. She pulled the sheets away, mumbling to her dogs about knowing better than to sleep in her bed when she wasn’t there. Bridget was out like a light before her head hit the pillow.

She dreamt about silly things and it looked more like something Dr. Seuss would dream up but it was nice all the same. She had been laying in a meadow of tall blue grass, reading her favourite of Shakespeare’s plays when a group of caterpillars crawled up over her hip. She grinned, giggling softly at the ticklish feeling. She rolled onto her side to make it easier for them to get across and butterflies landed on her shoulder. She wiggled at the new ticklish feeling, knowing it was useless to try and get back to her book now. A few seconds passed, maybe a minute and the butterflies flew away. Saddened, Bridget frowned into her books’ cover. She was opening the book again when the world started looking more like a reflection in a pool of still water than an actual place and then the world shattered with her name being called.

Bridget frowned into her pillow, wiggling more to get comfortable again. She didn’t even open her eyes when the voice registered familiar. “Take what you want ‘n get out, Dyl,” she mumbled into her pillow before rolling over and trying to get comfortable again. She didn’t know what time it was when she walked through her apartment door, she didn’t know what time it was right then but she knew it was still too early for the professor to be getting woken up or to crawl out of bed. “’N take the dogs wi’ you,” she added, pulling the sheets up under her chin.

Tag || Dylan!
Words || 753
Clothes || Hung Over Honey
Music || Summertime -- Bon Jovi
Notes || <3

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

Dylan was by no means saintly. He had seen his fair share of nights on the town where some pretty blonde accompanied him home, hushing him as they staggered from the elevator and he kept whispering things in her ear. The scattered clothes across his apartment were always a sign of a good night and the mornings usually involved a final reminder of the night that was – if she was still there when Dylan opened his blue eyes. It wasn’t something he often made a habit of, but it happened and Dylan didn’t see the shame in it; not at his age and in this day. He had woken up some mornings with Sanders and Ash bouncing on him after a couch worthy pass out drinking session with friends and there had been other nights where sleep had been the last thing on his mind. However, there had never been a morning when Dylan had woken up next to someone he didn’t go to sleep with. And if someone had told him such a morning would eventually happen, it wasn’t Bridget’s name that sprung to his mind first.

Still, here they were and Dylan had a million questions swimming around his mind right now. He had been stone cold sober when he had fallen into that bed and didn’t once remember waking in the night to see or feel someone in the space next to him. He had been a light sleeper since his teenage years, but this really seemed to be one of those rare times when he had been a victim of slumber and even though he was wide awake now, his mind was still hazy. Glancing around his room there was nothing to explain Bridget’s arrival or the reason for her state of undress. She might have had the covers protecting her now, but Dylan had pulled her against his bare chest just moments ago and even though he was confused about many things he was certain of one; the girl did not have many, if any, clothes on.

He listened to her mumblings and his eyebrows furrowed. She seemed entirely clueless as to where she was or what was happening. The Irish man tried again, this time taking a more direct approach. “Bridget, you’re in my bed.”

[/color] He told her, grabbing one of his clean t-shirts from the dresser and tossing it at her. Dylan thought back to the last few moments and groaned, thinking about just how worse it could’ve been if he hadn’t come to his senses when he did. Running his fingers through his hair, he didn’t care when the dark locks fell back to his forehead. “What the hell happened?”[/color] He kept his voice quiet enough to consider her hangover, but Dylan couldn’t sit still until she had slept this off. All he could think about was what he might’ve done if the haze hadn’t lifted when it did.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 523
OUTFIT! Morning Madness!
LYRICS! The Fog - - - Maroon 5
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

Bridget didn’t get so drunk she ended up doing stupid things or forgetting the night before. But her bad day and tipped her over that edge and she’d drank more than enough to send her flying at the speed of sound past the line she drew in the sand for herself. It wasn’t that she was that responsible or stuck up. It was only that she’d lived in Las Vegas her entire life and worked the strip since she was old enough to. She had seen far too many girls act and behave ridiculously to let herself lose that much control. She didn’t want to be the next cautionary tale of the strip; not that anyone would remember who she was but that didn’t matter to her. She still didn’t want to be that girl. And then last night, Bridget became that girl and was now wishing she’d told her friend she’d already had plans. She didn’t regret a minute of the fun; she just hated the spins when the taxi left her on the sidewalk and right this minute being awake too early and with no coffee in her system at all.

“No, you’re in my room,” she said, getting annoyed that her neighbour wouldn’t let her sleep away the alcohol still swimming in her system. Sighing she sat up, having enough sense to keep the blanket covering her. She opened one eye the slightest bit before closing it and trying again with the other. Both sights were too blurry but she could see well enough that the walls were not the right colour and the bedspread wasn’t even the right fabric, forget colours there. “Oh,” she said, opening both eyes wide for a second too long. “Turn off the sun, would you?” she asked, picking up the shirt from the bed and putting it on under the cover of the blanket.

“A bad day turned into a good night,” she muttered, pressing the heels of her hands to her forehead above her eyes, trying to push the headache away. “I need my glasses,” she muttered again, automatically reaching for them on the bedside table, forgetting once again that she wasn’t at home for a moment. What the hell happened last night? She could remember leaving Paisley at the club and catching a taxi home, practically crawling in the building door, from there it was basically a blur of keys in her face, shoes in hands and stripping down to her panties as she found her way to the bed. She might have been embarrassed for mistake if it weren’t for the fact that she was pretty sure she wasn’t hung over but still drunk. “Could you hook me up to a steady IV, please? I know you’re making that questioning face at me and I can’t talk to you until I can see you and I’m sober enough to make sense,” she said, eluding to how bad she felt.

Tag || Dylan!
Words || 491
Clothes || Hung Over Honey
Music || Summertime -- Bon Jovi
Notes || <3

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

When Dylan saw drunk he was pretty quick to call it quits on the drinks, at least. He could stay out and pace himself a little more, but he never ended up passed out in some random place that he didn’t recognise as his own apartment. The only time he ever felt the need to search for answers at the bottom of a bottle was when the recurring nightmares hit him hard enough that he was growing desperate for sleep. He never spoke about those nights to anyone and usually it was just him, a bottle of something strong and a burning desire for an undisturbed slumber. He hated it when it happened, but he had to battle through them, grin and make it through the days and try to catch as much sleep as he could before the metaphorical demons from his past ripped him from his sleep in a cold sweat and gasping for fresh air. Then they’d vanish again, as quickly as they came and Dylan would be left to live his life in peace until the next stressful peak.

Part of him now wished that last night had been one of those bad nights. At least then he would’ve found Bridget sooner before he kissed his way along her upper body. True, his wake up greeting for her could’ve been worse, but the way he was seeing it right now was that it had been bad enough. She was already in a relationship with someone else and until he had answers and she had clothes on, they were far from joking about this over a glass of wine and some of his risotto. Glancing around his room, Dylan realised that his blinds were still up; though he rarely ever drew them when it was just himself in the apartment. He tugged on the strings at the side and dropped them; blocking the natural light from the room, save for the tiny bit creeping around the edges. The bed was spared from the summer pleasure though, so Bridget didn’t need fear the sunlight like some age old vampire. “That’s the closest I can get to turning it off.”

[/color] He said, folding his arms and watching as she seemed to fight off sleep and rouse her mind from whatever state it had to be in.

“And at what point during this good night did you end up in my bed, practically naked?”[/color] He asked, scratching the side of his face. None of this was making any sense to him yet and he doubted that any of it would until Bridget was sober and clearheaded again. He sighed and glanced around once more. “Just stay there.”[/color] He said before leaving his bedroom and closing the door over enough to keep Ash and Sanders from rushing in there to hide under the sheets of the warm bed like they always had done, from the moment they were big enough to make the jump. In his kitchen he grabbed a glass from the side and filled it with icy cold water before dissolving a small amount of salt into the bottom of it. It might not taste too nice for Bridget, but it was one of the best ways to shift a hangover from his experience. Grabbing the spare key from the hook, he made the quick trip to her apartment, relieved no one seemed to be about at this hour to catch the neurologist in the plaid pyjama pants he didn’t usually wear. It took him a few minutes of scouting the apartment to find Bridget’s glasses, but once he had them he locked back up again and then returned to his own place. He picked the glass of salt water up from the unit and then paused at another cabinet to grab a packet of crackers too. She might appreciate breakfast, but he’d cook her something once she was a little more alert.

Back in the bedroom, he handed Bridget the two things. “Here you are. Drink up.”[/color] He said, giving her a small smile before turning back to collect the discarding clothing of hers from the night before, bringing it back to the room and placing it all carefully on a chair out of the way. “So, do you actually remember anything from last night?”[/color] Part of him seriously doubted that she did, but he leaned against the wall and waited for her answer all the same. He could take care of her once he had at least something to silence the questioning voices in his head.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 798
OUTFIT! Morning Madness!
LYRICS! The Fog - - - Maroon 5
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

The thing about the night before was that she hadn’t felt that drunk while she’d been tossing them back. The routines were funny for the most part and when they weren’t, she tossed back a couple shots and added another rum and coke to her stomach content to make it halfway to funny. Even when she’d left the club at the end of the night, she hadn’t felt drunk, she had actually wanted to go dancing and continue the night at another club! It was that taxi ride that really threw her for a loop. She was more than three sheets to the wind but hadn’t felt it until the drive. And then it was a blurry little mess. At least she had one thing to be thankful for; not once was she reacquainted with her dinner! Bridget opened her right eye just a sliver, enough to check out the lack of light for herself. “It’ll do,” she mumbled, slowly trying to open her eyes again. It wasn’t cave dark but it was good enough. Her eyes were still blurry adjusting to the lack of contacts or glasses since she hadn’t bothered to wear either of them at all the night before, “forgetting” she owned them at all.

“When it got bad again?” she offered as her reason behind finding herself in Dylan’s bed and not her own. She didn’t know what to say without spilling everything that had happened before she’d left and when she got back again. He was a doctor, he knew what hospitals were like and she was the daughter of one who spent more time waiting for him in a hospital than she did at her own house half the time when she’d been growing up in Nevada. With her father being the trauma surgeon and then eventually becoming head of the trauma unit, he had spent a lot of time behind those sterile walls, which means his wife and daughter spent quite a bit of time there just to see him before bed. “Not going anywhere,” she muttered as Dylan left the room again and she fell back against the pillow, pulling the blanket up again. Even if he needed her out, the only way she was getting out of that bed at any time that day was if he carried her out.

She could have easily fallen back to sleep and given the chance she would but she also figured Dylan would be back in his bedroom, yelling her awake again. So, she let her head sink into the soft pillow and let her mind wander to how she’d gotten herself in the wrong apartment. And honestly, where did Dylan think she was going to go? She was fairly certain she was still drunk and it was just wishful thinking that she’d been hung over. It hurt too much to move and even with the shades down so the sun couldn’t blind her, it was still too bright but she would manage with that. Bridget heard the door as Dylan came back in the room and she sat back up slowly. She took her frames from the doctor first, slipping them over the bridge of her nose so she could at least see Dylan finally. “And then there was sight,” she said, accepting the drink next. Doing as instructed, Bridget chugged back a nearly half the glass before the coughs and taste of salt prevented her from finishing it off quickly. “Dégoûtant,” she said, making a face at the taste still lingering in her mouth. Shaking her head, and thinking Dylan was a doctor, she finished off the salt water, only gagging a little bit. “Pourquoi?” she asked rhetorically, shaking her head again. “I remember some funny bits, some not so funny bits made a little bit funny with the help of some shots and I remember getting into a taxi. From there it’s basically a blur,” she said running her fingers through her bedhead blonde hair.

Tag || Dylan!
Words || 664
Clothes || Hung Over Honey
Music || Summertime -- Bon Jovi
Notes || <3

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

Nearly every adult Dylan knew had turned to the bottle after a bad day tipped them over the edge. Even he had done it on more than one occasion and the next morning hadn’t been a pretty sight. Most of the nights he didn’t remember, but the mornings always came with the same horrific headache and blurred vision that made Dylan want to spend the rest of the day buried beneath the sheets of his bed. He was pretty certain that it was exactly how Bridget was feeling too right now, but hiding away never did anything for chasing away the monsters; even if it did seem like a good idea.

He had a feeling that there was a little more going on than just a normal night of partying and the next day punishment, but Dylan didn’t push it. There had been times when he had woken up worse for wear because of the things he didn’t want to talk about. Being in his line of work, people often assumed that he must’ve lost a patient, but there was more to Dylan’s bad days than just that. It was a horrible thing to happen when he was responsible for a life, and he did reach for the bottle the second he was home, but it wasn’t always the be all and end all of his problems. He just didn’t burden other people with them. No one but his boss knew of the reasons behind his choice in neurosurgery and not a soul knew about the nightmares that sometimes plagued him. “I guess it has to get worse before it gets better.”

[/color] He offered, not really knowing what to say since the reasons behind the bad day and everything else was still a mystery. He wouldn’t pry though; Dylan would rather make Bridget feel better now than make her relive the past that she had clearly wanted to forget.

The tall Irishman smiled as Bridget slipped her glasses on and patiently waited while she dealt with the vile drink he had handed her. “It’s the next best thing to a saline drip.”[/color] He explained with a small shrug of his right shoulder. It might have tasted worse than the hangover felt, but Dylan usually knocked a pint of it back to combat the dehydration and it made him feel human a hell of a lot quicker than other “cures” did. Besides, most of the time he didn’t have the luxury of hiding in his bed all day; even if he wasn’t needed at the hospital, he still had errands to run and general chores to do. “I have to say; I’m pretty impressed that you not only got the wrong bed and the wrong apartment, but that you got the right key to get in here.”[/color] He knew she had his spare, but getting it all together neatly like that while clearly intoxicated was quite an impressive feat. Dylan had been so deeply sleeping that not even a natural disaster would’ve awoken him and even if Sanders and Ash did scurry about at the sight of their neighbour, he never would have heard them. “Do you think you can manage some breakfast? I’ll make whatever you fancy.”[/color] He said, hearing the low rumble of his own stomach. He still had questions, but until the night started to come back to Bridget in flickering glimpses it would be fruitless to repeat them. So, instead, he turned his attention back to making her feel a little more human and pushed away the thoughts of his somewhat awkward wake up.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 635
OUTFIT! Morning Madness!
LYRICS! The Fog - - - Maroon 5
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

Bridget was sure if the beginning of her day hadn’t been that bad, the rest of it wouldn’t have seemed so bad. But then she got that message and nearly wanted to pull a bottle out right then and there. She was about second chances though, so she put leashes on dogs and brought them along so she would have an excuse to leave. Turns out, she’d been given one through Paisley and she jumped at it like a dog with a bone. And now she wasn’t sure what was happening with that relationship and right then and there, she couldn’t muster up an ounce of care to give. Bridget wasn’t usually the type to go out, get completely wasted and then do what she did. Whenever Bee got into these funks, she baked. And she kept baking until she ran out of ingredients or space; whichever came first. “Then I’m in for some hellfire, because I’m sure that was just the beginning,” she said sounding a little depressed about it all.

Where the hell Dylan found this hang over solution but Bridget was pretty sure if she ever found herself this drunk again, she was going to fake a non-hang over so she wouldn’t have to drink that again. “That was cruel and unusual punishment,” she said when she’d finally finished the drink and was holding the glass out to him again. She kept reminding herself he was a doctor, but it wasn’t helping his case when he handed over nasty drinks like that. “Get me a damn trophy for it then,” she said sarcastically, feeling a little more herself. Honestly she didn’t know how the hell she got into his apartment either. And was more than a little surprised she hadn’t woken up curled into a ball in the middle of the hallway with her keys still in her hand.

Bridget should have just done what she always did, but that text message had come through at just the right time and with the mood she’d been in, a night of decent jokes and drinks were needed. “I would love that. I might even eat Wilbur if it got rid of this feeling,” she said shaking her head. She’d stopped eating meat when she was still just a little girl having not been able to really tell the different between the meat on her plate and her childhood dog, Tank. She didn’t really eat eggs either unless a recipe called for it. “Surprise me?” she asked, falling back onto the pillow. “I’ll be right here,” she added, wrapping the blankets around herself and hiding away while she could. She had lost the annoyance while she’d been drinking but now that she was sobering up, it was coming back.

Tag || Dylan!
Words || 460
Clothes || Hung Over Honey
Music || Summertime -- Bon Jovi
Notes || <3

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

Dylan knew that if Bridget wanted to talk about her bad day then she would. She had come to him with complaints and problems in the past and most of the time the neurosurgeon had been forced to do very little coercing to get the blonde professor to open up to him. Granted, none of her bad days had ever resulted with him waking up the next morning to find her in his bed, but then there was a first time for everything, he supposed. His blue eyes shone with concern for her when she spoke again, but he kept his physical comforting to a slight rub of the shoulder for now. If Bridget was in any kind of trouble he wanted to be able to help, but she needed to be thinking clearly before anyone could do anything right now. “We’ll talk in a bit. I’m sure there’s something we can do.”

[/color] He might’ve sounded optimistic, but then Dylan was the guy who saw people battle tumours and survive aneurysms on a daily basis; he knew just how strongly people could bounce back from those dark places. Being there numerous times before helped, too; though he rarely shared those stories unless someone specifically asked about one or the other.

He had to smirk at her reaction to his hangover remedy. It was nowhere near being the nicest thing around, but it did the trick better than half of the myths that were out there. “And there was me thinking that the hangover was the punishment part.”[/color] He teased as he took the glass back from her. “Just think of it as you’re swimming in the ocean and a big wave came and caught you off guard so you ended up with a mouthful of salt water.”[/color] He suggested with a shrug. The nasty drink didn’t bother him so much anymore, but that was probably because of the amount of time he did spend diving in both the ocean and in caves; he had swallowed his fair share of the waters by accident over the years. Rolling his blue eyes, Dylan flashed Bridget a lopsided smirk and stepped towards the door. “You’ll have to wait until I’m at the shops next. For now, you can have breakfast as your prize.”[/color]

Laughing softly, Dylan shook his head as he left his bedroom, still puzzled as to how Bridget managed to make it into his bed so easily. It seemed like very few obstacles had come in her way when in reality there were probably several natural responses and habits that should have told her sooner that she was in the wrong place. Now the initial shock was over though, Dylan was back to his usual self and he peered in the cupboards, pulling out the things he needed. Normally, the Irishman only got to cook breakfast for his sisters when they stayed over on those rare weekends he had to himself. When it was just him he either had something small or grabbed something on the way into work and ate it while he was reading over the patient files for that day. He refilled the water and food bowls for Ash and Sanders too while he cooked the breakfast, eventually piling a small stack of waffles onto the plates and then loading the plates onto a large tray. Dylan also grabbed a variety of sauces from the cupboards that his sisters always insisted that he have in and then some cream and mixed berries from the refrigerator; Bridget could pick and mix from the selection. He made them both a strong cup of coffee and then carefully manoeuvred his way back to the bedroom with the very full tray in his hands. “I’m sure this’ll make up for that drink.”[/color] He said as he slipped back into the bedroom, closing the door with his foot before placing the tray carefully across Bridget’s lap and plucking his own breakfast out of her way, taking a seat in the space next to her where he had slept.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 714
OUTFIT! Morning Madness!
LYRICS! The Fog - - - Maroon 5
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

Bridget always found herself at her friends’ doors whenever she needed to talk and baking either wasn’t enough or just wasn’t an option. She didn’t like those times, but at least they were few and far between. And the last time she showed up on Dylan’s doorstep, she had an overflowing plate of treats for him to devour. Bridget liked baking, she did whenever she got the chance and her summer breaks were for her to find new recipes, recreate them with her mom and come up with different ways to make it their own. She always left her month in Nevada with a new notebook full of new recipes. And she loved it. Baking calmed her down, but when she didn’t want to be calm, when she needed to scream and yell and get it all out that way, Dylan, Taylor and even Paisley was there for her to do just that. She didn’t like burdening Taylor with her problems since she had plenty of her own going on with the men in her life, and Bridget had wanted to forget it all last night at the club with Paisley so bringing it up hadn’t been much of an option. “Mm,” she agreed with a nod. “I’m sure there isn’t but hide me anyway.”

Bridget’s favourite hang over remedy was sleep. She loved her sleep and had on more than one occasion, spent an entire weekend curled up under the sheets. She had only moved to find food, the couch and to brush the taste out of her mouth. Those weekends were pretty rare and usually followed either a blank night out or a week from hell at work; in other words, exam weeks. [color=008def“The hang over was the reminder of a good night I can’t remember,”

[/color] she said though she knew it really was the punishment for drinking just a little too much the night before. In this case, she was pretty sure a little was the biggest understatement of her year. “I’m from Nevada,” she said deadpan. The petite blonde professor didn’t like salt water much. Even when she and her mother went to California or their random surprise trips, she didn’t go much into the water like the rest of the people on the beach. “Fantastique, food!” she said, savouring the word. She was starving, and her stomach wasn’t roiling, just waiting to repeat what little food she had eaten the night before.

While Dylan was away, Bridget spent her short bit of time alone trying to remember more bits and pieces of the night before. The only thing she could think of was that she’d gotten all mixed up and backwards somehow thinking Dylan’s key and apartment door were actually her own and the other key and door was his. But how the hell she did that, even she was clueless. It didn’t matter in the end, Dylan’s bed was comfortable and she’d fallen into sleep as blank as her memory. The headache she was sporting was a killer, but she could cope with it. She usually did and without pain meds. Her father may have sworn by them in certain situations but Bridget had seen a lot waiting for the man to want that for herself. Hearing Dylan’s voice again, Bee pushed the blankets away and sat up properly against the pillows and headboard. “It better or you’ll have to find an actual bakery from now on,” she warned, skipping coffee for fork and strawberry syrup. Sometimes, she was such a child, especially when it came to her favourite foods. She added a small bit of the mixed berries before cutting a piece and practically devouring it. “Perfect,” she said, unapologetic for saying so with food in her mouth.
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Tag || Dylan!
Words || 624
Clothes || Hung Over Honey
Music || Summertime -- Bon Jovi
Notes || <3[/size]

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

Dylan’s bad days only ever came from losing a patient. He knew that he couldn’t save everyone, but it still hit him hard whenever someone didn’t survive. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t reach for the bottle, but Dylan kept most of it to himself. He hated bringing work home with him and burdening others with things they couldn’t change had never been his style. Once he’d spoken to his mother about it, but the conversation quickly reverted to Dylan’s own survival and that hadn’t proven useful at all. Since that attempt, he just pulled out the expensive scotch, dealt with some restoration projects and took the next chance he had to go cave diving. It seemed to work for the neurosurgeon, even if it did mean that he bottled things up sometimes. “Trust me.”

[/color] Was all he had to say before slipping from the bedroom.

Sleep was probably the best cure for a hangover, followed by re-hydration, but most of the time Dylan didn’t have the time to spend all day in bed. Plus, he was always worried about those nightmares of his snapping him out of the sleep and still being hung-over at the time; it didn’t exactly paint the nicest of pictures for him. However nasty this one was, it still left him with most of the day to do anything that needed to be done. “That’s no excuse. I’ve been diving in Nevada before.”[/color] It was one of his more extreme adventures in the end. Lake Mead and Tahoe had been straightforward enough for his scuba diving, but he had an old college friend on the Devil’s Hole research dive team who had managed to wrangle him into assisting with some work down there. Dylan might have loved his cave diving, but it was one of the toughest dives he had done and while it had been an amazing and probably a once in a lifetime experience, he still had no desire to repeat it; the water had been much warmer than he was used and the cave ridiculously narrow, even when they swam deeper. He’d never forget or regret that dive, but he also wouldn’t recommend it as anything more than a story to share over a bottle of something cold with friends who would appreciate the tale and the luck Dylan had to have had to be allowed into a protected cave. Friends in high places and a good reputation could get a guy anywhere, it seemed.

He might not have had a clue what was wrong with Bridget or why she had drank enough to find herself crawling into his bed the night before, but Dylan could do a good job at making things better now. Hell, it was his job to take care of people and fix them when there was something wrong. It was just a natural habit that he did it without needing to be paid for it, too. He reached for his coffee first, needing the caffeine to finish clearing the cobwebs away from his memory. With the cream and berries on his plate next, he wasted no time in attacking the waffles, smiling at Bridget’s reaction to his idea of breakfast – when he had the time to make it. “I’m glad you approve. So, what’s bothering you?”[/color] She didn’t need to show up at his door with baked treats to give away that there was something wrong this time and while they could easily waste away the morning dancing around the subject matter, it was probably best to get it all out of the way now so Dylan could focus on making everything better for the hung-over blonde in his bed.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 651!
OUTFIT! Morning Madness!
LYRICS! The Fog - - - Maroon 5
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

Bad moods for Bridget were actually few and far between, but when they hit, they hit hard. And she was left in a foul mood for some time before she finally shook it off. That usually involved more baking supplies and more surface space than she had in her apartment but it was how she coped. Her moods reflected easily in her baking. If there were a lot of different treats lying about, she was working through something, if there were only a few or even just a lot of one recipe, it usually only meant that her mother had emailed her some new ones and she wanted to try them out. But this mood hit when she hadn’t been home and then she’d gotten that text from Paisley while she’d been out so she figured she’d try her hand at working it through without baking. It had worked in the short term but she could feel her annoyance coming back. She trusted Dylan though, there would be no other reason for her to be comfortable enough even after he told her of her directionally challenged mistake, she was comfortable around him. He didn’t expect her to be a certain way, act this way or that. He listened even when he didn’t deserve the earful she ranted at him.

Lake Mead was the closest to Las Vegas but the family had a pool in the backyard, so did a couple of Bridget’s friends. So there had never really been a big need to hit the lake for a day of fun. Plus, they lived hours away from the ocean. If they wanted a fun day adventure, they spent the night at a friend’s house, packed most of the car up the night before and then headed out first thing so they were there at a good time and spent the entire day lounging by the salt water waves. “Despite living less than thirty minutes from Lake Mead, I had no interest of actually going there. I had a pool,” she said, blandly, knowing she couldn’t win any fights in her current state. Besides, when she and her friends were old enough, if they wanted to hit the beach, they drove four hours into California. “Plus there’s an ocean, with a better beach a couple hours away. Just far enough that I couldn’t go running home, and close enough that it was a perfect day or long weekend trip,” she said with a shrug. It was how they’d always done it, because those trips weren’t a common thing with the desert heat and the pools in the backyards.

Bridget had never been the type of girl to change who she was to suit someone else. She wasn’t an actress who could fit herself into a new role, a new character every other day. She was herself and no one else. Bridget sent him a bland look. "Who do you think?” she asked, before answering her own question. “That man has to be the only idiot on the face of the entire planet who can be doing nothing at all and still manage to piss me off," she said on a sigh, practically stuffing her face with the next forkful so she wouldn't have to talk. While she was chewing, she was thinking. The way he’d acted when she’d gone over to hear him out. It wasn’t like someone who actually seemed to care. He’d been too careful with his words; like he wasn’t saying the truth. It bothered her that he wouldn’t be honest. “I am not some fragile piece of thousand year old china or bloody a Monet,” she muttered, reaching for her coffee.

Tag || Dylan!
Words || 614
Clothes || Hung Over Honey
Music || Summertime -- Bon Jovi
Notes || <3

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

Bad moods and mad days were entirely different things in Dylan’s life. A bad day left him quiet and less like his usual charming self, whereas a bad mood was something that very, very rarely marred the neurosurgeon’s life. He was usually the one picking others out of theirs, with phone calls to his baby sisters or trips to a bar if Freddie was staring across into the abyss again. He seemed to have been given that role in life back when his dad had died and control had slipped from his mother’s grasp with the grief she was dealing with. Dylan didn’t mind it though; he’d rather put a smile on someone’s face than sit back and let them wallow in a foul mood.

Back home, in Belfast, the family had lived just a few short minutes from the shoreline. The beach was pebbles rather than sand, but he had fond memories of rock pooling and swimming in the freezing waters of the Irish Sea. Whenever his dad was on a business trip, Dylan could remember watching the boats coming in at the docks with his little brother, sometimes wishing the familiar face of their dad would emerge from the crowd. Most of the time though, he came home when he told them he would and even if it meant staying up past bedtime, Dylan would be there with his mam to meet him. His life, long before he had taken up his diving hobby, had centred almost entirely around the ebb and flow of the waves. “Then you cheaped out of a good adventure.”

[/color] He teased with a soft shake of his head. He could make do with a pool if he just needed to unwind after a long day and his local gym had one, but for the Irishman there was nothing quite like freshwater swimming and diving. “A real weekend trip involves a cabin in the woods, a lake and possible a few caves to explore. There’s a roaring fire in the evening and no one to disturb you with petty problems or paperwork.”[/color] He said with a content sigh. He hadn’t been able to get out there in a while with work keeping him so busy, but Dylan would be there at the first chance he got to ease away the stresses of his hectic life.

When it came to his own love life, Dylan had been lucky that he had kept most of it simple. There were clean breaks, no hostility and no tragic tales of heartbreak. There might have been a night or two when he wished things had worked out differently, but so far he had been spared the kind of drama Bridget seemed to be going through, though she still seemed to be vague on the details. He wasn’t about to force her to reveal everything, but he sat and listened until it seemed like she was done for the time being. “You are the last person I’d compare to a fragile piece of thousand year old china.”[/color] He offered with a small smile as he reached for his coffee cup again to wash away the waffle stuck to his palette. “I don’t want to interfere, but I’ve never seen you like this before and it’s not healthy. I also don’t like it. You should be happy in a relationship, not pissed off to the point you drink enough to get your apartment muddled with your neighbour’s.”[/color] Moving his almost empty plate to the bedside table, Dylan reached across to pull Bridget into his side, feeling like the best thing he could do right now was to give her a hug.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 648
OUTFIT! Morning Madness!
LYRICS! The Fog - - - Maroon 5
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

After this bad mood, Bridget was praying she didn’t have another for another million years. She hated when she got into those foul moods. Next to nothing got her out of them until she was good and ready for them to be gone. It was a huge pain in the ass. Thankfully, they didn’t come around often so she knew once she got over this little hiccup; she would be fine for a few months at least. You couldn’t be sunshine and roses all the time. If anyone around here didn’t kill her by then, she would have offed herself to save them all the trouble!

Home for Bridget had been a handful of places. Her own house, her best friend’s house which was only across the street but basically her second home, then there was school, work and the hospital. Going to the hospital, spending all the time that she had there, was just so she could catch five minutes with her father. He was a department head so he was there more than the usual hours. She spent so much time at the hospital, she’d seen too much for her own good, really. But it had been the only way to see him really, unless it was some sort of special occasion or he was taking a rare day off. It had actually gotten to the point for Bridget that she hardly stepped foot past those sliding glass doors. It helped she lived across the hall from a doctor and could text him, call him or if she knew he was home, take two steps out her door and knock. Failing all of that, she called her dad and described her symptoms. “And yet I live,” she said sarcastically.

Bridget who had wanted to shut her eyes the moment she’d opened them looked up at the man she’d lived across the hall from. “A cabin in the woods and a roaring fire?” she asked, wistfully. Growing up, with winter holidays, there was a cottage near a ski lodge in upstate New York with a comfortable fire in the hearth and a huge real Christmas tree in the corner. But those were the only holidays the family took. The summer months were dedicated to friends for Bridget and helping her mother with her pastry business. It had been a very long time since the currently hung over blonde spent any time at all in that setting.

All the nice conversation sadly wasn’t enough to patch up her foul mood. Dylan was good when she needed someone to listen to her rant. Mostly he let her rant to her hearts content until she ran out of words, or breathe, whichever happened to come first. And he always told her the truth, even when she didn’t want to hear it, he said it. She couldn’t help but appreciate that. “I wasn’t aware you could string together the words “I don’t want to interfere”. Now though, it’s going to be on your gravestone, I’ll make sure of it,” she said teasing lightly, giving up and setting her coffee cup to the side. And just in time it would appear because no sooner had the bottom of the cup hit stable surface, Bridget was being pulled into a comforting hug. Giving in to that, too, she wrapped her arms around Dylan’s waist, letting go of a deep breath. “To be fair, he hadn’t actually compared me to fine china or a masterpiece from a master artist, but he also didn’t tell me the truth. He was censoring and I hate that more than anything, more than hospitals! He was acting like his way was the only right way and I was only allowed to have an opinion because it amused him or something. My thoughts are like silly meaningless words to him,” she said, letting all her aggressions out against Dylan’s shoulder. “And for the record, it was the best mistake I’ve ever made,” she said, wicked grin spreading across her lips as she leaned back enough to look up at the doctor.

Tag || Dylan!
Words || 680
Clothes || Hung Over Honey
Music || Summertime -- Bon Jovi
Notes || <3

[Dylan Ellis Griffin]

Dylan hated seeing any of his friends upset or angry. He hated it even more when there was nothing that he could do to help them. Still, he tried. No matter what had them in their little funks from time to time, his door was always open and he’d do whatever he could to take their minds off of their troubles. It might have only been for a few hours over a bottle of something intoxicating, but friends were good for things like that. He didn’t care what hour of the day it was when someone needed him, he’d be there.

Dylan had spent a large portion of his life staring at those white hospital walls. He never spoke about it much, really only using his story to help reassure some of his more nervous patients. No one really wanted to hear stories of sick children and he wanted to tell them even less, so for the most part he kept those personal tales to himself. When it wasn’t his own check-ups and treatment that had him through those sliding doors, it had been for his ma’s pregnancies and then came those years of studying and working hard to get to where he was now. In some ways, he felt that if he didn’t have the hospital in his life then he wouldn’t have anything.

He grinned, happy that something had caught her attention with the hung-over state she was currently in. “Yep. You didn’t think I went diving just for the water, did you?”

[/color] He joked, settling in his seat and then thinking back to some of the places he stayed, considering himself lucky to have friends in the diving community who were more than happy to hand him the keys to lodges and cabins for a few days whenever he needed it. “There’s nothing quite like coming back from an all day dive and just relaxing. There’s no one around to disturb you, usually a fantastic view and there’s plenty of time to just kick back for the night; watch the stars, go for a walk…It can be really beautiful.”[/color] His smile was one of memories, but it made him long for a break again. He was hoping to get some real time off soon so that he could book an actual vacation away from his usual spots and take a week or two somewhere else in the world, but he had yet to sort any of that out and the hospital was just so busy at the moment that it seemed unlikely he’d get away at the start of the summer.

The young Irishman would gladly sit and listen for as long as Bridget needed him to. If they were there for hours then he didn’t care. All Dylan wanted to do was make her feel better, make her see that things were going to be okay again. “I’m just full of surprises.”[/color] He let out a soft chuckle and brushed his fingers through his bedhead hair. He cuddled her close and listened while she let go of her frustrations. He kept her close, waiting until she had finished speaking before taking a moment to let her relax again. “Well, you’ve got me for whenever you want to hear the truth. And your thoughts and opinions are important. Seriously, sometimes I need you; you keep me sane after a bad day and you probably don’t even know it.”[/color] His words were honest and he smiled sweetly down at the pretty blonde curled into his side. “Well, if it’s the best then I suppose it’s okay then.”[/color] He teased, pressing his lips to her forehead lightly and hugging her close again. Dylan wanted to make her feel better, forget all of her drama with Koda and just relax in his company.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee <3
WORDS! 672
OUTFIT! Morning Madness!
LYRICS! The Fog - - - Maroon 5
NOTES! <3 <3 <3