(no subject)
Who: Debra Morgan and Derek Morgan
Where: Main Street
When: Day 41, Midnight
What: Welp, they've just been zapped back.
The Morgans (no relation) had been in the room at where ever they'd been taken too for the last... thirty or so hours. Then as quickly as they'd been vanished in a poof of light, they were returned to the middle of the fucking square. Temporary blinded by the sudden light then lack of it, Deb quickly put her hand to her face and groaned loudly. "Fuck me with a running fucking chain saw."
The dots of brightness faded slowly from her vision, and she rapidly blinked in order to get them to adjust faster. It probably didn't work but it made Deb feel better just to be a little fucking active in something right now. She started to take a step forward and realized that her hand was currently wrapped around someone else's and that someone else? Well, it just happened to be one Derek Morgan. "Holy fucking shit, you have got to be fucking with me."
Looking down from their conjoined hands to what they were wearing, Deb's eyes widened. Even while she'd been here, she'd managed to at least pretend to have some of her old look. It wasn't perfect but at least she'd manage not to have to wear a fucking skirt all the time. This was about a hundred times worse than a skirt. This was a dress in white and trimmed with blue at the neck and at the arms, and given that Deb was practically a pole... it didn't really do all that much to flatter her. Around her neck was a fucking lei as if they'd come back from Hawaii, and when she looked to Derek? Well he had one too.
"Oh you have got to be fucking shitting me." Deb muttered again. They were in the square, and they were wearing absurdest 1950s bullshit and... was that a fucking hint of gold on her wedding finger? "Oh fuck you!"
Where: Main Street
When: Day 41, Midnight
What: Welp, they've just been zapped back.
The Morgans (no relation) had been in the room at where ever they'd been taken too for the last... thirty or so hours. Then as quickly as they'd been vanished in a poof of light, they were returned to the middle of the fucking square. Temporary blinded by the sudden light then lack of it, Deb quickly put her hand to her face and groaned loudly. "Fuck me with a running fucking chain saw."
The dots of brightness faded slowly from her vision, and she rapidly blinked in order to get them to adjust faster. It probably didn't work but it made Deb feel better just to be a little fucking active in something right now. She started to take a step forward and realized that her hand was currently wrapped around someone else's and that someone else? Well, it just happened to be one Derek Morgan. "Holy fucking shit, you have got to be fucking with me."
Looking down from their conjoined hands to what they were wearing, Deb's eyes widened. Even while she'd been here, she'd managed to at least pretend to have some of her old look. It wasn't perfect but at least she'd manage not to have to wear a fucking skirt all the time. This was about a hundred times worse than a skirt. This was a dress in white and trimmed with blue at the neck and at the arms, and given that Deb was practically a pole... it didn't really do all that much to flatter her. Around her neck was a fucking lei as if they'd come back from Hawaii, and when she looked to Derek? Well he had one too.
"Oh you have got to be fucking shitting me." Deb muttered again. They were in the square, and they were wearing absurdest 1950s bullshit and... was that a fucking hint of gold on her wedding finger? "Oh fuck you!"