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Their first dinner back together wasn't anywhere close to what she'd imagined it be in her head. There was no fancy dress, no hour long primping session, no worrying about whether or not she'd have a purse to match whatever outfit she'd bought on the fly for the occasion. Then again, she'd also assumed that their first night back together would involve fighting over the fact he'd disappeared without a trace, so...

Hair had been piled up and clipped into place, wisps of renegade pink strands teasing the side of her neck as her thumb idly grazed across the screen of her cell phone. It was sixty degrees outside. It would rain tomorrow. Her boyfriend had returned after a six month disappearance. The Nasdaq was up by nine percent.

The grease stained pizza box lay abandoned on the dining room table, neither of them sitting anywhere close to it. Chase had taken his spot on the carpet, back pressed against the wall with his paper plate on the floor while she'd chosen to make herself more comfortable, knees up on the couch while her own back pressed against one of the arms. She'd donned one of his dress shirts, but that was nothing new - to her, at least. It did well to cover the bruises on her chest, while the bike shorts she'd somehow acquired (perhaps from one of her get-healthy kicks a few months back?) revealed most of her pale, long legs and the pink polish recently applied to her toes. Princess Pink, the bottle had read. She'd found it apt and had bought it immediately.

Facing the grizzly looking man several feet away, rose would occasionally meet with whiskey when she glanced up from her phone to watch him. Her plate was on the floor, her second pizza crust lingering in her free hand as she nibbled on it sparingly.

Straightening her back up, she cast another glance at the man, looking at him as if she were still attempting to figure out if it was truly Chase Black that had returned to Destiny City and not some uncouth, hairy doppelgänger in his stead.

Swallowing the bite of bread she'd been lackadaisically chewing on, she looked back to her phone.

"You gonna tell me what happened?"

An eyebrow crooked up, a flicker of annoyance flashing across her otherwise unperturbed expression as her thumb skipped over the latest update from Perez Hilton. Apparently a new breakup was plastering the headlines of most social news sites. Some baby was named Dusty Rose.

She brought the remaining crust up to her lips and tore off a piece, chewing slowly as the iPhone slowly descended towards her lap. He looked malnourished. Prissy made a mental note to buy some Gatorade the next time she went out.

The coffee table was littered with magazines, unopened mail from the previous two days and an outdated TV guide that she'd never bothered tossing. Most everything ended up being a rerun anyways.

"Alright."

Dropping the remains of her crust onto the plate next to the sofa, one leg stretched out while her finger slipped into her mouth, the pinkette cleaning the grease off with her tongue. Her back arched as both hands then moved to rest on her knees, toes wiggling restlessly.

"I'm not in the mood to play Twenty Questions anyways." Humor clung to her voice, despite the flatness in tone. One hand raised up for inspection - the manicure she'd gotten the day before was still entrancing her. Doing one's nails at home lacked the finesse of having them done at a proper salon. "I suppose I should give you an update, if you want one."

Shoulders shrugged but a playful smile crept to her lips. "Like how you missed my birthday. Remember that day? Happens to fall on Valentine's Day. Which you also weren't here for."

It appeared that she wasn't going to let that tidbit die anytime soon.

"If you hid it, you hid it well."

Rummaging for clues months prior had resulted in a whopping amount of nothing, save for a series of drawers and shelves that had required reorganizing after her whirlwind of searching. She didn't care if he realized she'd gone through his stuff - leaving her alone had earned him that invasion, if not more.

He didn't look terribly surprised at the quietness of the house. Her shoulders shrugged for a second time as legs swung over the edge of the couch, dangling for a brief moment as toes played with the soft fibers of the beige carpet. "Time stops for no man, darling."

Leaning down, she plucked up the paper plate and stood up, making her way around the couch and back towards the dining area. Intentionally choosing the path that led her directly past him, she swiveled her hips as a subtle reminder of other things he'd missed out on in his absence.

"Your starry little waif still lurks around. Not exactly the most exciting gal to hold a conversation with, but then again, not all of your women can be as fabulous as me."

Closing the pizza box, two fingers nimbly sealed the cardboard shut as she placed the plate atop the container. "Kat's around. Pissed as hell at you, but who can blame her? Doesn't help that James went turncoat as soon as you left."

Eyes refused to glance his way, the young woman choosing instead to disappear into the hallway, pizza box and plate in hand. It would take several minutes for her to return, two bottles replacing the remains of their dinner. The tails of the dress shirt that swallowed her smaller frame bounced softly against her shorts as bare feet padded along the floor back in his direction.

"Wolfe's gone. Guess having the man holding his leash vamp left the dog to his own devices. Aue's around, somewhere, and Zircon's who knows where."

Pausing, she gazed up towards the stucco on the ceiling as if she were doing a mental check-off in her head. If there were any that she left out, they either held no importance to her or Prissy simply didn't care to recall them. Either way, she let out an indignant noise before tossing the bottle of water in his direction.

"You've got your work cut out for you if you want to fix things."

Pressing against the wall next to him, she slowly slid down onto the carpet. Legs folded themselves Indian-style as she brought the wine cooler up to her lips for a swig. It was pink (what wasn't?) and smelled of strawberries, though Prissy didn't seem to care enough to savor the flavor as she swallowed the sip before letting the bottle rest between her legs. Her index finger ran along the rim as she turned to look at him, directly.

The rugged look made things look a bit more interesting. His hair was clearly pissing him off, but she enjoyed the temporary change in him. Served him right to be inconvenienced for an extra day or two.

"But yeah. Just you and me, for the time being. Poor you, huh?"

She wasn't sure who the they was that had spoken to him, but if she was curious, she didn't give away her thoughts. If he wanted to keep being cryptic and vague about where he'd been, she wasn't going to feed into it. Two could play that game.

"Mmmhm."

The bottle gave off a series of soft clinks as nails rapped against the drink. Prissy allowed him time to process her words. The anger in his voice was evident as she stared down the eyes glaring at her. It hadn't been her fault that the little twerp had bolted when the going got tough. Now he was some little French babbling prat who, for all the pinkette cared, could jump off the nearest pier. Just another problem she hadn't felt like concerning herself with, considering all of the other issues going on in her life at the time. Tourmaline would find him and kill him - it was as simple as that.

"We're all coping in our own ways, if you hadn't noticed."

Taking another sip, she allowed the sting of the alcohol to burn against her throat as it slid down. The grease from the pizza wasn't the most appealing aftertaste to have, but it beat the other options they'd been left with at such a late hour.

"You gonna tell them you're back, then?"

Eyes flickered to the phone that had been abandoned on the couch only minutes earlier. She'd had half a mind to text Kat herself when she'd initially found him but... well, selfish as always, Prissy had chosen to keep this particular secret to herself, at least for the first few days.

Eyes flickered to the untouched water bottle and then returned to him, her nose wrinkling as he complained about their last minute dinner choice. It hadn't been the best of options, but he was in no condition to be dressing up and going out for a night on the town. She, on the other hand, refused to allow him to leave her sights. What sat in front of her was the shell of a former man that she remembered. He'd hardened and withdrawn himself from her, but Prissy knew better. The charming jerk she'd come to care for was still in there, somewhere beneath the beard, man bun and hollow, sunken eyes. It would simply take time to draw him back out and she was stubborn and determined enough to make that happen.

"Next time?"

One hand released the bottle and moved to shove him gently.

"Next time, you'll be taking me on a proper date, Mr. Black."

She paused in her teasing, fingers lingering on his bare skin. He was warm to the touch under her fingertips and Prissy suddenly found herself hesitant to let go.

It was akin to a dream; how many times had she imagined him back in her life? Sitting around, talking with her as if he hadn't disappeared from the face of the Earth for nearly half a year. Talking about the future, complaining about food...

"I could make you a smoothie, if you think you can handle the dairy."

Maybe she was concerned about him getting nutrition. Maybe she just wanted to show off her new culinary skills. She'd gotten halfway decent with the blender, to boot. Granted, he didn't have to know that it'd taken both her and Kat on chairs to wipe down the ceiling after her first attempt, sans lid, but with decent practice had come an adequate, mediocre result.

"Or we have juice still, I think. I didn't figure the sugar would do well for your stomach, though."

She forced her hand to let go and moved to rub her own knees, glancing in the direction of the kitchen. "Tell me what you need and I'll make it happen, sweetheart."

"Smooth answer there, charmer."

She wasn't about to deny that his charm was working, just as he knew it would. Even in his disheveled state, he could be a danger with those whiskey eyes and that silver tongue of his. If she was a smart girl, she'd avoid both... but where would the fun be in that?

Her head tilted to the side, gently resting on top of his. Fingers idly moved down to brush against the carpet, stopping to pinch and tug on a loose string. "Bet you say that to all the girls who come to your rescue." Pausing, she feigned surprise. "Oh.. wait."

The hand on the carpet moved to reach over and squeeze one of his legs playfully while the other moved to take hold of her drink. Her legs unfolded themselves and spread out, the color of the bland looking carpet bringing out just how little her skin actually saw of the sun, these days. She was practically Casper the freakin' ghost with not even so much as a freckle on her pale complexion.

"So," She turned back to him, adjusting her shoulders so she could look at him straight on, despite his attempt at neck nuzzling. "Are you gonna sit tight and let me go make you something to drink or are you going to be a good little kitchen assistant and help me out?"

Her nose scrunched as she tacked on a third option at the end.

"Or are you going to be completely unhelpful and keep trying to distract me?"

She reached over to swat at the cat out of habit, only to have it hiss and swat right back. Scowling, she debated reaching over and popping it on the head with the empty bottle or the abandoned pizza slice, but after realizing that she'd have to be the one to clean up afterwards, ultimately decided against it.

Rising from the floor, she bent down to pick up his trash and lean over far enough to press a kiss on his forehead. The cat clearly didn't like her paying any attention to its owner, but as far as Prissy was concerned, the little monster could be tossed out with the trash.

"I want you to know that you're both absolutely worthless."

Followed by a smirk, she left the mangy feline to its equally mangy owner, making her way out of the room and back into the kitchen. The trash was disposed of, cups were fetched from the cupboard and the blender was tugged out from its spot on the counter.

She never bothered with the fresh stuff - frozen fruit was definitely the easiest to deal with. The carton of milk got sniff-tested (approval: given), then placed on the counter alongside the bag of strawberries and bananas. That was probably a tamer option than something like berries, right?

A few minutes of tinkering and messing around with the blender and the pinkish thick liquid was being dumped from blender and into the purple cup, white letters across the front that read EAT AT JOE'S. She didn't remember eating at Joe's but knowing how many people had lived under the house's roof at one point, it wasn't surprising to find cups she didn't recognize. Hopefully whoever ate at Joe's had enjoyed it, despite the cliche sounding name.

Deciding against straws, she finished pouring the remains into a lime green cup, taking the eyesore for herself. It had a flamingo on it, but surely Chase hadn't been the one to pick that ghastly thing out...

Shaking her head, she minded her step as she returned to where he sat, making another hissing sound in hopes of scaring off the bratty cat as the purple Joe's cup made its way down into his reach. She took a sip of her own, savoring the flavor as she made no effort to budge from where she stood in front of him.

"If you don't drink all of that, you're going to hurt my feelings."

Her shoulder shifted, the delightful burn of his beard still tingling from where he'd just rubbed his cheek against her. "Now move your dumb cat before I kick it."

"Was thinkin' about it. Haven't decided, yet."

She sipped on her own drink as she watched the furry beast skulk off to go hide behind who knew what - knowing Momewrath, to probably go shred something that she'd be forced to clean up later. As much as she enjoyed the company of the sweeter Guardians (Silk, you are NOT included in that list), normal cats were finicky, opinionated creatures who Priscilla had little time for. Not to mention litterbox changing - gross. No, that was going to continue being Kat's department, or else the cat was gettin' the pink slip out.

Finally, one leg moved to nudge his two knees apart, wedging her pale one in between his, all the while ignoring the various cuts peppered across his skin that were still in the process of healing.

"Move."

As he slowly complied, she sank back down to the carpet, squeezing herself between his legs and returning to her Indian-style sitting position. She didn't seem to mind the awkwardness of forcing his legs to stay spread apart, choosing instead to simply smile as she sat directly across from him, sipping her smoothie down to the halfway mark in the obnoxiously bright green cup.

Once she'd had enough, she set the cup to the side, her hands moving to rest on both of his knees. She left them to linger as she watched him drink her homemade concoction like a child holding their breath in wait of approval.

Fingers strummed along his legs as she proudly added, "I can even cook some now, too."


Boiling eggs and noodles was quite a feat, considering Priscilla's past when it came to cooking... but saying she knew how to cook sounded far more impressive than listing the few items she'd learned how to make in his absence.