Quick Note: This isn't meant to be offensive to anyone mentioned. Also, don't drink and drive.
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"Iain, I swear to god I will vomit all over you," Liz threatened, but he just kept laughing. The entire cast and crew had gone out to a bar to celebrate the wrap up of the season, and there had been some heavy drinking late into the gathering. Chloe and Adrianne had left an hour earlier, before all this had started, so that they would be sober for her interview the next morning, and everyone else was too busy dancing with the rest of the group to notice, so Iain became the one holding Liz's hair back in the grimy, dim bathroom at the back of a bar too small to accommodate so many people.
Iain didn't mind so much. Liz usually knew her drinking limits and was very responsible about this sort of thing, so it was amusing to see her wickedly drunk, probably from the shots the crew kept taking. It was their last night of shooting, she figured, and she wouldn't have work for a few weeks, so might as well celebrate. Now that extra celebration was... regrettable.
"How are you not sick?" Elizabeth barely finished before another gag struck her.
Iain grabbed a handful of hair strands that had started falling into her face, tucking them gently behind her ear. "I'm Scottish," he joked with emphasis on his accent, coaxing a tiny cough-laugh out of Liz. Really, Iain had just drunk less than Liz had.
Poor Liz. Iain thought, taking in the shaking outline of her body as she dry-heaved. Her neck was beading with feverish sweat already, and her back, revealed by the party dress she wore, was pale, save for the freckles on her shoulders. Even so, she was beautiful.
Maybe these feelings were just the alcohol hazing his mind. Or maybe these feelings had always been present, just pushed to the back of his mind, only released through the liquor. Either way, Iain was falling hard.
Liz had stopped jolting, clearly having emptied her stomach, but Iain's hand stayed reassuringly in her curls.
"Thanks, Iain," Elizabeth croaked, reaching her hand up and preparing a hair tie. Iain moved his hand before things got awkward, and Liz put her hair up in a ponytail, hands shaking a bit.
They were still kneeling on the floor, so Iain helped Liz up. Her legs were weak and quaking, so he put an arm around her waist and supported her to the door. As soon as they exited, Ming appeared, asking all about what happened.
"Can you get Liz some water?" Iain asked, still helping her to a seat. Liz smiled sweetly at Ming, who hurriedly approached the bartender.
Clark pulled out a chair for Liz, she assured him of her okayness, and Clark retreated to the bar. Iain took a seat across from Liz, and Ming delivered the water, plus a packet of saltines she had fortunately obtained.
Liz took a long sip of water and nibbled a saltine politely before speaking in a fairly normal voice. "This is great and all, but I'd really just like to get home now."
Iain nodded understandingly. "Yeah, do you need a ride?"
Liz checked her phone quickly before replying. "Well, Zach is probably sleeping, so, yes. If it's not too much trouble."
"Okay, I'll grab my keys," Iain said, then sped over to where his jacket was hanging, grabbing Liz's, too.
When Iain returned to the table, Liz was rubbing her feet, her high heels discarded on the floor next to the chair legs. "You ready?" he asked, and she took another gulp of water before answering. He steadied her once she stood, then draped her jacket over her shoulders and scooped up the shoes.
They said fast goodbyes to the party, then embraced the cold night air. Iain's familiar old car sat parked right outside, and he helped her into the passenger's seat. As the car took off, Liz leaned her head against the cool glass, hoping it would soothe some of the heat going to her head. She sucked on a breath mint, trying to get the acidic taste out of her mouth.
"There's Advil in the compartment there," Iain suggested, opening it. Liz found the bottle quickly and swallowed two capsules dryly.
"I'm never drinking again," she groaned, rubbing at her temples. Iain laughed again, and Liz gladly joined him this time.
The LA streets were nearly deserted around this time of night, though the sidewalks were crowded with various partygoers. Iain reached Liz's apartment soon enough, having memorized the route long ago. He stepped around to Liz's side and opened the door for her, acting as chauffeur. Liz played along gracefully, grasping his outstretched hand and curtsying formally. Iain closed the door behind him.
"This has been a great night," Liz said with a genuine smile. "I mean, before I got sick. I'm sorry for making you drive me home."
"It's my pleasure," Iain replied, escorting her slowly to her door. He wanted to draw out this farewell. Liz seemed to walk slower than ever.
"You're so good to me," Liz said, casting a glance towards Iain's humbly blushing face. "I'll miss you over break."
Iain's voice dropped to a sad whisper. "I'll miss you, too."
Just as they reached the front door, Liz turned to face him. "I still feel terrible about ruining your night," she began, then took his hand in hers. Iain's chest tightened.
"You didn't ruin my night, Liz. You were my night. And it was pretty great."
Liz smiled shyly before returning nervously to her offer. "Do you maybe want to have lunch with me? I mean, over break?"
"Sure," Iain replied firmly, and probably too fast to be inauspicious.
"Okay, I'll text you," Liz confirmed, voice nearly lost to the darkness and tiredness.
"I'll wait for your texts," Iain breathed back, and in that moment he just wanted to kiss her again, like they had on set several times. But he didn't have a good excuse like he did on set. If he leaned in, he wouldn't be able to talk it off as just a stage kiss. This was real life, and in real life, kisses change things between people.
"Okay. Bye," Liz barely managed before she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.
"Bye," Iain exhaled by her ear, eyes closed. He wished they were Fitzsimmons in this moment. He wished he could be going into her apartment with her, kissing her cheek as he passed. He wanted to tell her he loved her. Then again, it might just be the alcohol.
