![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bitofheavenwithawildsideWho? Maggie Gresham and OPEN
What? Arrival
When? A few days after Blaine's arrival, Sunday afternoon
Where? The beach
This could not be happening. It just couldn't. There was no way on earth that Maggie could've screwed things up this badly. In the wake of Kurt and Blaine's wedding, which had rapidly disintegrated into a murder scene from some godawful movie, everyone had been in a state of depression, shock, and grief that was far beyond their ability to just deal with. You didn't just "deal" with watching a dear friend, a precious person that you loved dearly, being shot down in front of you in cold blood. There was no dealing with that, and while everyone was horrified, and trying to be there for Blaine at the same time, while somehow trying to keep living, it was far, far too much.
It was what had driven Maggie, grief-stricken and alone, to a bar in Manhattan, where she had every intention of drinking until she was numb. What she hadn't expected was to find a familiar face there, someone who'd been at the same wedding, witnessed the same horrifying scene, sitting a few barstools down from where she was planning to sit. Neither of them really wanted or needed to be alone in the wake of that, and after far too many drinks, they ended up back at Maggie's apartment, where they'd shared a drunken one-night stand. It wasn't exactly the run of the mill pull, given that they'd known each other for years, and were good friends, but it had been something that both of them needed -- the contact, the intimate connection, the reminder that they weren't alone, that they could still feel something.
( The next morning, he'd left, though both of them promised to keep in touch... )
What? Arrival
When? A few days after Blaine's arrival, Sunday afternoon
Where? The beach
This could not be happening. It just couldn't. There was no way on earth that Maggie could've screwed things up this badly. In the wake of Kurt and Blaine's wedding, which had rapidly disintegrated into a murder scene from some godawful movie, everyone had been in a state of depression, shock, and grief that was far beyond their ability to just deal with. You didn't just "deal" with watching a dear friend, a precious person that you loved dearly, being shot down in front of you in cold blood. There was no dealing with that, and while everyone was horrified, and trying to be there for Blaine at the same time, while somehow trying to keep living, it was far, far too much.
It was what had driven Maggie, grief-stricken and alone, to a bar in Manhattan, where she had every intention of drinking until she was numb. What she hadn't expected was to find a familiar face there, someone who'd been at the same wedding, witnessed the same horrifying scene, sitting a few barstools down from where she was planning to sit. Neither of them really wanted or needed to be alone in the wake of that, and after far too many drinks, they ended up back at Maggie's apartment, where they'd shared a drunken one-night stand. It wasn't exactly the run of the mill pull, given that they'd known each other for years, and were good friends, but it had been something that both of them needed -- the contact, the intimate connection, the reminder that they weren't alone, that they could still feel something.
( The next morning, he'd left, though both of them promised to keep in touch... )