Guns, Giggles, and...well, Grant..., A Grant/Button Myth

[Button Gwinnett]

Given the instructions from the bartender, Button nodded, smiled, and tipped her hat to the man. "Hey, thanks a lot. I'd say he's pretty lucky you're his friend. I'll make sure he gets back home in one piece." Jerry handed Grant a bottle of water and gave him instructions to drink, and Grant saluted the man and made for the door.

"So you're taking me home, huh? Good. I'm not so good with drunks when I'm doorknobs." He slurred, and she wondered if that wasn't the perfect way to describe him. The guy was totally doorknobs. She couldn't believe she didn't think of it before. She moved to catch up with him, wondering how she would manage to get him to the hotel if he just slumped over.

The night air was cool, and aside from a few bar-crawlers, the streets were mostly empty. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air, Button thought about all the time she'd spent in bars. It was a bad habit, and usually she'd be the one stumbling home. But the worst part was the smell of them. Stale beer, sweaty men, the smoke of cigarettes. It wasn't until you stepped back into the world again that you realized how used to the stench you'd gotten. Helping the wobbly comedian along as best she could, Button realized that maybe she'd fallen into a rut. If it wasn't bars, it was casinos. If it wasn't casinos, it was shooting. She didn't make friends with anyone, it was easier just to not care. And relationships? Who had time or energy for those. Hell, she hadn't even had a one-nighter in nearly six months.

She sighed.

[Grant Gardener]

As Grant stumbled out of the bar, he managed to keep his feet, though just barely. The horse that he collided with wasn't overly happy to see him, but the large animal hadn't kicked him in the head, and so Grant just petted the horse's nose and counted it as a win. He moved on down the planked sidewalk, and into the sandy street, in what was surely the right direction.

He remembered there being buildings on his walk from the hotel to the bar, and so surely, with buildings in his current field of view, he must be heading in the right direction. Also, he could hear Button behind him, taking lots of quick, small steps to keep up with his slightly unsteady, but much longer strides. She hadn't called out and yelled at him, and she hadn't shot at him to turn around, and so that confirmed in Grant's head that he should be heading in that direction.

He turned around and walked backwards for a few paces, until he saw how far back Button was. He'd gone and run off and left her. He let her catch up, and when she reached him, he turned back around and continued on, taking much smaller steps this time.

"Thanks for walking me home, by the way. I'd probably get lost and have to wander into another bar to get directions." he said. "And we know how well me and bars get along."

He continued on and tried turning left, but it turned out to be an alley, and so he turned back around.

"Oops. Wrong corner." he said, grinning, and continuing on. "I don't remember this many steps being here last time I made this trip. Are you taking me the long way home?"

[Button Gwinnett]

She didn't think she'd ever have a babysitting job again, after she'd threatened to dangle the neighbor's kid out the window by his shoelaces when she was fourteen. Word got around that Penelope Gwinnett didn't have the patience for children. It was difficult not to just leave Mr. Awkward to wander the streets aimlessly until he was mugged of all his worldlies. But a promise was a promise, and you especially never broke a promise to a bartender. Pretty sure that was in the Bible somewhere.

She grabbed Grant's arm after his wrong turn and steered him back down the road. She watched he feet, noticing his mincing steps. It was all he could do not to outrun her, even at a stroll. She felt her cheeks redden again. She'd never been embarrassed of her stature before, but this was pretty ridiculous. She tried to focus on making sure he didn't stumble into anyone, and less on his unintentionally patronizing walk.

"We're almost there, you buffoon... trust me, I'm stone sober. You're drunk as a skunk." Let him chew on that one a bit. From the little she knew about him, he'd be sloppily rhyming things with skunk for a few minutes. Keep him occupied.

She could see the Carter up ahead, and steered him toward the entryway. She pulled the brim of her hat down a bit, hoping that no one would notice her and think that she was actually with this fool. Not that she expected anyone here to recognize her, as it was one of the better establishments on this side of town. But one could never be too careful now, could they?

[Grant Gardener]

"We're almost there, you buffoon... trust me, I'm stone sober. You're drunk as a skunk."

Grant chuckled. Skunks were funny. A drunk skunk would be even funnier. Smelly, but funny. Button was funny too. Not funny like a skunk, though. That was a different kind of funny. And Grant was the one who was skunk-like, with his drunkenness. But hopefully not the smelliness. That’d be bad.

“How can you be stone sober? You have limbs that move and bend and twist. Stones don’t. Because they’re rocks, you see.” he said. “Also, I’m sorry I’m so skunk-like. I promise the smell washes off.”

She pulled him towards a particular building and he was pleased to note that it was his hotel. He realized that his head was getting heavy. He wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep for seventeen days.

Well, maybe not seventeen, but late into the following afternoon, anyway. His face was sore, now that the alcohol was starting to wear off just a little bit. He was feeling woozy, but not terribly so. He let her pull him through the front door of the hotel. The lobby opened up majestically, with high ceilings and gilt everything. He wasn’t sure why everything had to be gold, but he didn’t really care.

He glanced to his left, and saw the hotel’s lounge dimly lit with the very latest of the late crowd finishing up their drinks for the evening. They were a captive audience, with him standing just outside the lounge’s only exit.

An audience?

How could he pass that up?

He immediately took four large strides towards the lounge, tugging Button along with him, and placed himself (and her) in full view of the whole place.

“Hello once again, audience! When we last left off I was headed out to do a show at the club. I was successsss...suckfess......I did it well, and got punched in the face for my troubles. Look at my nose, right there.” he said, pointing so nobody would miss it. “I made it back with the help of my nicely travel sized navigatrix here, Button, who also happened to save my skunk bacon from being made into breakfast for a mountain. Everybody give her a hand!”

He stepped away, raising one of her hands in victory. She would surely be pleased that he had gotten these fine folks to recognize her awesomeness.

[Button Gwinnett]

As Grant went on about her supposed heroics, Button felt her cheeks and ears getting hot. The blush took over the whole of her pale face, and she pulled her hat down low to try to hide it. "Ta ma de... She mumbled, and then he jerked her arm skyward, nearly pulling her off of the floor. With a hiss, she snatched her arm away, glaring up at him.

"You gorram idiot, I didn't do anythin' anyone decent wouldn't have done! What is your deal, dude? You are completely doorknobs! Why can't you just be normal?" The words flowed out of her, loud and heated. She'd had about all the hero worship she could stand, and okay, maybe she was just a little tipsy. Still, this Grant guy was completely out of line, and he had the total wrong idea about her.

"I'm not a gorram hero or nothin', okay? I just didn't want to see you get your dumbass self killed! So don't go tellin' folk how great I am, cause you don't need a gorram thing about me!"

She huffed and set her jaw, but looked away from Grant. It felt kind of good while it was coming out, but now that it was over she felt kind of bad. Still, she hoped that maybe he'd get the message. She didn't want the attention. She'd had more than her fill.

[Grant Gardener]

"You gorram idiot, I didn't do anythin' anyone decent wouldn't have done! What is your deal, dude? You are completely doorknobs! Why can't you just be normal?"

Grant cocked his head to the side in confusion. Was she the one who was doorknobs? Surely she didn't understand the situation. Odd. She seemed awfully perceptive of social niceties. Did she not understand the full extent of what she'd done for him?

"I'm not a gorram hero or nothin', okay? I just didn't want to see you get your dumbass self killed! So don't go tellin' folk how great I am, cause you don't need a gorram thing about me!"

He smiled, a little confusedly.

"Anyone decent? Have you looked around lately? Really looked? This 'Verse isn't exactly overflowing with decent folk." he said, glancing up at the lounge's patrons. "Present company excluded, of course."

He turned back to Button, and his smile widened.

"You probably saved my life tonight, Button. Butt-ton. Butt ton. Hah, like you're huge! That's hilarious!" he dissolved into a breathy giggle before continuing. "You saved the life of a total stranger who, by all rights, annoys the go se out of you, and then, on top of that, you walked me home like a true gentleman...gentlelady....whatever. The point is, you're about the most decent person I've ever met."

He sighed, and shrugged, maybe a little embarrassed.

"You say you're not a hero, but you're wrong. You're my hero." he said softly, looking up at her with the sad puppy dog eyes he got when he was drunk and emotional. "Well, thanks for bringing me home. I guess...I guess I'll let you go, now. It was nice meeting you Button Gwinnett."

He turned, started towards the stairs that'd take him up to his room, and promptly passed out, collapsing face first onto the floor.

[Button Gwinnett]

As goofy as it all might have been, his admiration was sincere and his assertion was correct: she probably had saved his life. At the very least, she'd saved him from a lengthy hospital stay. When he declared her his hero, right there in the lobby, she couldn't help but blush. She'd hardly stopped to make friends in her life, much less rescued folks and become their personal heroes. When he thanked her and started to walk away, she couldn't help but watch and almost miss Mr. Awkward Doorknobs, just a little bit.

That was, of course, until he took a header dead-center of the lobby and passed right the hell out.

"Are you gorram kidding me?" Her outburst drew most of the attention back toward her, at least for a moment, and she tilted her head toward the heavens and silently cursed the gods of booze and comedy for ever cursing her with Grant Gorram Gardener. She sort of understood how easy it must have been for the Man-Mountain to go aggro, considering how she'd herself gone from understanding to murderous at 32 feet per second.

She walked over toward the fallen comedian and knelt, checking for a pulse first. She wasn't sure whether she was glad he still had one or not. Biting her lip, she knew that she couldn't just leave him laying in the hotel lobby. He'd be like to wake up naked, at best, not that she was thinking about that. But there was no way she was lugging him up to his room on her own.

The place was pretty fancy, though, and even had your stereotypical uniformed bellhop, who she promptly summoned. Motioning down to Grant on the floor, she quirked an eyebrow at the young man. "Wanna earn your money today?"

The kid quickly moved, fetching a shining brass luggage cart and scooting it over. Button took Grant's feet, and the bellhop his head, and they slung him carefully onto the cart. As she pushed the cart toward the elevator, she pulled the brim of her hat down over her eyes. The looks she was getting from passers-by was making her a bit uncomfortable.

The ride up the elevator was even more awkward, as she peered down at Grant with a frown. She'd barely known the guy an hour, and he'd already put her through some of the most uncomfortable situations of her entire life. She couldn't wait to put him behind her and never look back. And that also came out wrong.

Arriving at his floor, she pushed the cart down the hallway, thankful that it was currently empty. Cruising along to room 108, she made another startling realization...

She didn't have his room key. Looking back down at Grant, she knew what she was going to have to do.

"Great.. just great. Finally a situation where having tiny hands might come in handy..." She rolled her eyes at her own sarcastic tone and knelt down again. She stared at him for a moment, and took a deep breath.

Closing one eye, she reached into his pants pocket, searching for the key.

[Grant Gardener]

Grant's head was fuzzy. So very nicely fuzzy. His face was numb in that tingly awesome way that happened when he drank too much and got doorknobs. He was vaguely aware of motion, feeling whatever it was he was lying on vibrate as it traveled across whatever it was he was traveling across. He didn't care, though.

His head was too fuzzy to care.

He tried opening his eyes, but couldn't. He found himself in a pink haze, like the best kinds of fruity drinks. His surroundings were a jumbly, spinny, glowy, haze. A whimsical miasma, if you will.

Or even if you won't. That's what he saw. He just sort of lay there, enjoying the fuzzy miasma. After a while, the vibration beneath his body stopped, and he heard a voice.

"Great.. just great. Finally a situation where having tiny hands might come in handy..."

He knew that voice. That was Button. The Hero of his Life. Buttons....they're complicated little buggers when you're doorknobs. He wondered why she was grateful for her small hands, but chocked it up to Buttony goodness, until he felt said hands in his pants.

He slowly rose from the depths of fuzzy headedness to find her with her hands in his pocket. He stared at her for a long moment, and then blinked.

"Button? Wha-...what are you doing with your hand in my pants, Button? That's precarious." he giggled, shooing her away as he rolled over and fell right out of the bell cart.

He landed with a thud, which momentarily paused his giggling, but it soon resumed. He managed to struggle to his feet with the help of the rather uncomfortable bellhop.

"My thanks to thee, kind sir, but your assistance is no longer required." he said, in his imperious voice, with an imperious clap of his hands. "Now begone!"

The young man rolled his eyes and took the bellcart, whispering something to Button about calling Security should she need it, and left. Grant approached the door, and growled.

"Puny barrier! You begone as well! Your assistance....heh. Ass is stance." he muttered, giggling again as he fumbled the key from his pocket.

He opened the door with surprising dexterity, though he pushed too hard and it rebounded, slamming shut in his face.

"OH COME ON!!!" he wailed. "GOD DANGIT!"

He opened the door more carefully this time, and stepped inside, motioning for Button to follow.

"Come on in, my half-sized hero."

This post has been edited by Grant Gardener on Jun 16 2012, 06:58 AM

[Button Gwinnett]

"Ti wo de pigu!"

Of course he would wake up at that exact moment. Why wouldn't he? It was the most perfectly embarrassing, compromising moment possible. Thankfully, he shooed her away with only the tiniest of embarrassing comments. Her cheeks were bright pink as he rolled off of the bellhop cart and dismissed their helper. How the hell she ever ended up in this position was completely beyond her understanding.

She never intended to be anyone's hero. Honestly, she'd spent most of her adult life looking out for no one but herself. Why she'd decided to step in to help Grant Gardner of all people was anyone's guess. She couldn't wait to be on her way, and putting the lanky weirdo in her wake.

And then he hit himself in the face with the gorram door and she realized he would still be needing her help after all.

He finally conquered the barrier, and turned back toward her. "Come on in, my half-sized hero."

She knew he was only messing around, but couldn't help but to give it back. With a tilt of her eyebrow, she patted the gun at her hip. "You keep it up with the height jokes, Gardner, and I'm gonna have to put on in your kneecap. Dong ma?" After a beat, she gave him a grin and decided to take his invitation, heading inside.

"Okay, I'll come in for a minute, but then I've gotta get moving, okay?"

[Just Joe]

(((EDIT: Because multiple accounts are a thing I can't grasp...)))

This post has been edited by Just Joe on Jul 28 2012, 01:09 PM

[Grant Gardener]

"Ti wo de pigu!"

Grant just chuckled off Button’s swearing. He found a new respect for the Maker’s ability to pack lots of stuff into small packages. Not only did she have massive amounts of badassery, strength, and humor in jammed to the brim of her rather small hat, she also featured a mouth like a drunken stage hand after every ballerina and chorus girl in the show had turned him down.

Grant snickered at the idea of Button in the back of the house, trying to keep up with the frantic activity that kept a proper ballet going. He pictured his father leaning down and speaking in Button’s ear as he carefully turned her by the shoulders, pointing at a spot on the other side of the stage so that her gaze followed his finger to where she was supposed to be. He’d smack her backside with his clip board as she started walking (or running, more likely, since Grant’s father had little patience for anybody who wasn’t moving fast during a performance), and then turn to address the next issue.

No, wait...that was Grant. That’d been many a night in the New Bayreuth Opera House during Grant’s childhood. He could almost see his dad’s scruffy face, all heavy lines and oversized moustache. Thankfully he’d inherited his mother’s easy smile and expressive nature. His father’s face was built for scowling, though he rarely did. His mother almost always had a smile on her face, especially when looking at his father.

Dammit...now Grant missed his parents...

He bit back a sniffle as he entered the hotel room, heading for the restroom first. He always brushed his teeth as soon as he got home from the bar. That ensured that when he woke up in the morning (provided he didn’t hug the toilet all night) he wouldn’t have to deal with sour beer breath. He put a nice large glob of toothpaste on his brush, and began scrubbing furiously.

"You keep it up with the height jokes, Gardner, and I'm gonna have to put on in your kneecap. Dong ma?"

Grant turned around and found her patting the pistol on her hip, though she smiled.

"Okay, I'll come in for a minute, but then I've gotta get moving, okay?"

He grinned, still scrubbing.

“Yah, bugh ghen I’d hab to ged you a chkoo to chkand on. Ged id?” he asked around the mouthful of foam. “Becaugh you’re chko chkort.”

He grinned, and as the toothpaste began to try and escape from his mouth, he turned back to the sink, and spat, rinsing his mouth and his toothbrush several times before exiting the restroom and heading into the hotel room itself. He kicked off his shoes, one flying with entirely too much speed and bouncing off of one of the two queen sized beds, and into his vidscreen, and the other knocking the shade of the far floor lamp askew.

He began peeling out of his shirt, and stretched, his back cracking in several places as he did. He yawned as he undid his belt, and opened the top button on his jeans, but found the edge of the nearest bed before his pants hit the floor, and he collapsed in, bouncing several times on the soft mattress.

“Ugh, Button. I’m so comfy...Comfycomfycomfy.” he said, rolling to where he could see her. “Also, where are you in such a hurry to get to? You seem awfully eager to distance yourself from my company.”

He squinted at her in what he thought might be a cute manner, but probably looked utterly ridiculous.

“Is it because of this strange animal attraction between us? I think it is. What can I say?” he asked, shrugging. “I’m like a sexy giraffe. Tall, lanky, and vegetarian. Well, except for that last part...I do like hitting people with my neck, though.”

(((OOC: Toothpaste Translation: “Yeah, but then I’d have to get you a stool to stand on. Get it? Because you’re so short.”)))

[Button Gwinnett]

She looked around the hotel room as she entered, thoroughly impressed. Who knew hackneyed comedians made enough money for these kinds of digs? She briefly considered a change in professions, but then realized she might put Grant out of a job if she did. She smirked at the thought of him trying to do any other job, jabbering on and on to hapless strangers all the while.

He'd stumbled to the bathroom while she was coming inside, and his muffled response to her half-hearted threat was probably meant to be funny. She didn't know, however, because between his slurring and the toothpaste it may as well have been said in Martian. She decided to let it go, however, because she really didn't want him to get into the habit of repeating himself.

She leaned against the wall and waited for him to come out. As soon as she knew he was going to be okay on his own, she would head off and leave him to drift off toward his inevitable slamming hangover. She nodded to herself, fixing her hat. Good plan.

He came out of the bathroom now, seemingly minty fresh, and gave her a glance before meandering toward the bed. But first, he kicked off his shoes, sending them flying and sending Button ducking for cover. In the morning, he was going to spend at least twenty minutes trying to find them. And wonder why the lamp looked all crooked. She gave a smirk. "You gonn--"

And then, just like that, he started undressing. Right in front of her. She felt her cheeks going pink, and rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling. Mr. Awkward was really starting to live up to his title. At the sound of his pants hitting the floor, the blush was really on.

“Ugh, Button. I’m so comfy...Comfycomfycomfy.” This caused her to look back toward him, now sprawled on the bed in his socks and skivvies. Tall, skinny, awkward Grant Gardner, literally lay bare. “Also, where are you in such a hurry to get to? You seem awfully eager to distance yourself from my company.”

He squinted at her, and it was the most ridiculous expression she'd ever seen a man wear. At least, one that didn't have a bullet in him. She wondered what face he thought he was making, but it didn't take long to find out.

“Is it because of this strange animal attraction between us? I think it is. What can I say? I’m like a sexy giraffe. Tall, lanky, and vegetarian. Well, except for that last part...I do like hitting people with my neck, though.”

Oh my gorram Buddha, he's actually hitting on me...

Button removed her hat and rubbed her forehead gently, before walking over toward the bed. She took a seat beside him and shook her head.

"Oh Grant... oh silly, drunk, awkward Grant..." She tried to look at him as matter-of-factly as possible. "The thing is, you are WAY too out of it to be entering into any kind of social contract... why don't you get some sleep and see how you feel about it in the morning? That's probably the best idea...

[Grant Gardener]

Grant lay on the bed doing his level best to be a sexpot, but he suspected it wasn’t working, with how Button was rubbing her head exasperatedly. He got a sneaky feeling that she was regarding him as some uncultured philistine might, as an annoyance, but clearly that couldn’t be the case. She’d saved him. She was a hero. Clearly she was enlightened to the ways of the world. Perhaps even more than Grant himself.

Psh. As if that was likely...

Either way, he squirmed around on the bed to face her as she plopped herself down.

"Oh Grant... oh silly, drunk, awkward Grant..."

Grant smiled as he propped himself up on his elbows, chin resting adorably in his hands, fingers on his cheeks. He bent his knees and let his feet kick back and forth, probably looking very much like a teenage girl.

“That’s actually my full legal name.” he said softly, not really wanting to interrupt.

"The thing is, you are WAY too out of it to be entering into any kind of social contract... why don't you get some sleep and see how you feel about it in the morning? That's probably the best idea...”.

Grant gave that more than a half moment’s thought. He was fairly doorknobs at the moment. Even he could tell that. He wasn’t completely doorknobs. Mostly doorknobs, sure, but not completely. Button of the saving people awesomeness was probably right. He should indeed sleep on it. He wouldn’t want to have to have that awkward morning after conversation with her. He wasn’t at his best in the morning.

She might shoot him...

He shrugged.

“Okay. You win. You’re the boss.” he said, stepping unsteadily out of bed to reach down surprisingly deftly and pick her up, transferring her to the other bed in the room, despite her obvious protests. “You can sleep here. I’ll be just over there where I just was before you invited yourself to stay in my room, which was very forward, I might add.”

He sighed and turned to collapse back into his own bed, snuggling down under the covers and punching his pillows several times before he lay his head down.

“Goodnight, Buttony Button. Thank you for saving my life. Wake me up for breakfast, will you?” he asked, his head swimming pleasantly.