A Love Triangle Most Unusual (Season 1)

Ketchup Water and Other Unorthodox Hangover Cures

I woke up on the living room couch, much to my embarrassment.  Someone, presumably Leo, had thrown a microfiber blanket over me.  I stretched and got up to go brush my teeth as soon as possible.  On my way to the bathroom, I heard the sounds of Leo shuffling to the kitchen and turning on the stove fan.  Once I was done brushing my teeth, I went over to join him in the kitchen and look for something to eat.

"Oh hey," Leo turned around, and I could see that he was wearing Valentina's fluffy pink house slippers.   "Morning Dave.  Hey, can you watch my pot while I brush my teeth?"

"Yeah, sure," I replied, lifting my mug of hot water and lemon to my lips.  Growing up, I had always groaned when my mom offered it to me, but now I had come to appreciate it.  I yawned and walked over to the stove, checking to see if the water was boiling yet.  It still simmered quietly, so I raised the heat slightly. 

As I sat there, and the morning sunlight gradually brightened the room I was in, I found myself thinking about the moment on the couch yesterday night. 

The way that Dean had smiled at me and rubbed my shoulder before standing up to go get some punch, leaving me confused and blinking dumbly. 

The way that the music and everyone's faces has blended together, leaving me feeling as if I was on the world's most bizarre, drug-free high. 

Leo and Valentina both drunkenly came up to me and tried to drag me into the dance circle, but once I got there, I just stood awkwardly without moving for several minutes. 

I vaguely registered that Valentina was twerking next to me, and that at some point she started dancing on Leo, and then at some point they switched so that Leo was the one dancing on her.

Dean moved constantly around, always at the edge of my peripheral vision; laughing while taking a drink with witch, offering to help clean the bathroom after someone threw up on the floor, and dancing with Valentina's entire girl squad. 

Strangely, I didn't feel pissed off or the desire to kill him. All I registered was a faint presence, which felt oddly comforting. 

It was only when I came to myself, sitting on the couch with Valentina and Leo snoring loudly on either of my shoulders, that I realized everyone had left.

And now here I was, trying very hard not to zone out again yet still failing.  

"Hey Big D," Leo called out, and I winced. "Thanks for taking care of us last night!"

"Yeah, sorry for blacking out on you," Valentina said, nursing her cup of honey lemon hot tea. Leo swooped over and checked on the pot he had set up on the stove to boil.

"It's no problem," I grumbled. "Also, do not call me that ever again," I glared at Leo.

"What? Big D?" He asked innocently.

"Yes."

"Why not?" He asked innocently. "You don't like my nickname for you, Dave? I'm hurt."

"Because it has a very immature sexual connotation," I gritted my teeth.

"Whaaat? I'm just acknowledging you as the man of the house," Leo pouted.

Why, I ought to knock over that damn pot. 

Valentina walked to the fridge and pulled out the lingonberry scones that Leo had baked experimentally.  Personally, I found them to be a bit dry, but if you ate them with some jam, you wouldn't notice anyway.  

Leo walked over to the fridge as well, grabbed the jar of clotted cream that he had bought at the World Market, and handed it to Valentina.  Valentina smiled at him appreciatively and began spreading both the clotted cream and some gourmet strawberry jam (that Leo INSISTED was much higher quality than the Smuckers I had suggested buying) on her scone.  

Satisfied, Leo returned to his post at the stove and raised the heat slightly.  

"What are you making?" I pointed at the stove.

"Oh, this is my mom's hangover cure," he said, opening it and releasing an enormous cloud of steam that smelled vaguely of ketchup. 

I coughed and peered into the pot, seeing nothing but boiling hot garnet red liquid.  Cranberries, elderberries, and lingonberries swirled inside a jammy mixture of ginger, lemon, and various other pungent herbs.  Just inhaling it practically stripped the hairs off my nose. 

"Are you making...ketchup water?" I asked, coughing again.

"No! This is a lingonberry ginger tisane. You can have some if you want!"

"No, sorry. I don't drink ketchup water," I coughed.

"Alright, your loss," Leo whistled, scooping out a cupful and taking a swig. I gagged.

Straight men would definitely drink gasoline if it were physically possible, I thought to myself disdainfully. And he is a prime example thereof.

"Well, enjoy your ketchup drink. I'm going to head out," I announced. Leo and Valentina nodded to show they understood, and went back to sipping their respective concoctions. I shuddered and walked out as quickly as possible before they could offer some to me.