The Grant~An IT Crowd Fanfiction

Standard Victory Laps

Imogene woke up on her air mattress. That wasn't unusual.

What was unusual was that someone else woke up there, too.

When her eyes blinked open, she saw a blurry blob of white—what she took to be Ginger's unmade bed. On that unmade bed was another blob of something red, which must have been one of Ginger's revealing cocktail dresses, thrown casually aside. Imogene's head was killing her as though an axe had split her corpus callosum—the worst headache of her whole life.

She felt around for her glasses, which weren't in their usual spot on the floor. That was especially strange, as Imogene was a creature of habit. She reached under her pillow, felt around the covers, and found her glasses hooked between her legs. That was odd.

She looked down at herself and saw she was wearing a white t-shirt she'd never seen before...and no underwear. Her heart rate quickened. That was very odd.

Without thinking, she threw her arm across the other side of the mattress, and slapped someone in the face.

"OW!"

Imogene shrieked and turned around to see a bare-chested Maurice Moss lying next to her, holding his right cheek.

"MUM!" he cried. "THAT HURT! FOR THE LAST TIME, I DIDN'T TAKE YOUR RUDDY BRA!"

Imogene stared at him as he wiped his eyes beneath his glasses. He gathered himself and did a double take when he saw her, staring up with wide, guilty eyes.

His tone was grave. "Oh..."

She shot up in bed and tore her pillow out from underneath him, whacking him with it ferociously and repeatedly as he curled into the fetal position.

"Are you out of your mind? You perverted pig; I should call the police! Did you even use a condom? How dare you take advantage of a poor young girl under the influence!"

"Aagh! What did I do? Please don't hurt me!"

She gasped with a sudden realization and covered her mouth with her hand. "Under the influence! My God! I was DRUNK! My dad is gonna kill me! I am so dead!" She hit him a second time. "I can't believe you got me drunk! You're just another one of those drunks and junkies!"

"Aagh! Help!"

She hit him so hard he screamed a little, and then she stood up, using the pillow to hide her bare legs. Looking around the room, she saw that the blob on the bed was one of his button-down shirts, and most of their clothes were strewn carelessly around the room. Her breath was heaving with panic.

"What time is it?" she said shakily.

"I don't know!" Moss groaned in pain. "I'm just as hungover as you are!"

"Where's my alarm?" She felt around the floor and finally found it. "Oh my God! Oh no! I'm late for work, dammit!"

"Oh no! Me, too! And I don't have time to go home and eat Mum's breakfast!"

She popped up from the floor and stared at him. "What is it with you and your mum?"

"We live together. Are you wearing my shirt?"

"Oh my God. My God. You're thirty-six and you live with your mom? I mean, I know I'm one to talk, but Jesus. I'll never hear the end of that. God, I'm so stupid!" She picked up the pillow and whacked him again. "I can't believe you. This is ALL YOUR FAULT!"