[ prp ] a friend in need ( leslie & caroline)

[its me debz]

He didn't usually give gifts to old ladies, but this was an exception and she'd listened to a lot of his bitching. A lot of bitching he'd never really told anyone else, and Stormy deserved his thanks but so did Caroline.

Seemed a lot like she knew what was up, too. Different kind of bad but a bad all the same, snd he didn't know what to say or how to help so Leslie went to old reliables. His best alcohol was gone in a gift shared with America, but he had nearly half an ounce left that was still good, waiting to be used.

The good s**t, too: the kind from some fancy dispensary with a designer strain. He gathered up his rolling papers and a healthy serving, rolling several respectable blunts, and bringing a polite little glass pipe if she preferred it instead.

Armed with peacekeeping methods and a grim stare always accompanying his social outings, Leslie knocked upon her door and chewed at his cheek.  

[Nothing Yet]

The door gave a little when he knocked, its old iron hinges groaning as it moved only slightly from the contact. It was open just enough to be considered open, just enough that a passerby couldn't see into the room too easily, because that was most comfortable. The fewer times Caroline had to hear the 'click' of a door the better.

She knew the sound by now, and straightened up to watch the doorway. When no one immediately entered, she moved to pull it open, expression hesitant for the half-second it took to realize who it was.

"Hey! Hey, good seeing you!" A cheerful smile greeted Leslie, no caution or pity over what they had spoken of. As she lifted her hand to wave him inside, she stopped midway, holding still as she glanced at what he was holding and back up at him.

"Holy s**t." Her tone was downright awed, excitement waiting in her eyes. "Is that what I think--oh my god, get in here. C'mon, c'mon."

lurks beneath