are you bulletproof?

Italy for a couple weeks, it was nice. 

Glad you enjoyed yourself. Did ya happen t'bring back any souvenirs? 

Dane smiled for the first time all night and closed his eyes, nuzzling his nose against Ramona’s. It felt so good to have here, close to him, unharmed. In this moment, when it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away around them, it really did seem like everything was going to be alright. He nearly believed the sentiment himself and he had certainly never been praised for his optimism. “Damn right.” he murmured, signature smirk resting on his lips that still ached for hers. “Everything’s gonna be fine, ya hear me? Just fine.” he knew — and he was fairly certain she knew it too — that every reassurance coming from his lips were meant for both of them. He prided himself on his cool attitude, that perpetual level headedness, but even he could be shaken by things like this. Not that he would ever let anyone by her know that.

He didn’t want to draw himself back from her. He wanted to stay close and block out both of their worries, but he knew he had to look out for his family and right now that meant getting himself and Ramona back to the house. Oliver and Georgina were bound to be there, or at least he would continue to tell himself that. “Come on, baby. Let’s get out of here.” he rarely resorted to pet names — in fact, he found the whole practice laughable — but it just slipped out and he didn’t have the energy or inclination to correct himself. Dropping a protective arm around Ramona’s shoulders, he pulled her close to him as he began making his way through the crowd. “Stay close t’me, ya hear? I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. Any one a’you.”

Ramona allowed her own eyes to fall shut, arms tightening around him once more as he nuzzled his nose against hers. This sort of public display of affection wasn't something either of them usually allowed, but even so, she could not bring herself to pull away. If anything, she only wanted to press herself closer to him, soak in his warmth and let her worries dissipate. She wanted to bask in the fact that yes, Dane was here, and yes, he was fine -- just like she'd hoped. By the time she blinked her eyes open once more, he'd already rearranged his features into that smirk of his, the one that she often found both mildly frustrating and infuriatingly attractive. Today, it only made her want to kiss him again. So she did, tilting her head up to press one last kiss on his lips.

It was with great reluctance that she released her hold on him, letting her arms fall to her sides even though she was still overwhelmed with the urge to essentially cling to him. The shivers that had wracked her body had only started to subside and she was loath to separate herself from him completely. "Go on 'head an' lead the way, Dodge," she said, surprised (though not necessarily displeased) by his use of a pet name. Perhaps it had been unintentional, merely an accidental slip of the tongue. Ramona pushed the thought aside, knowing that there was no point in overthinking his word choice at this particular moment. When he wrapped an arm around her, she almost sighed in relief, instinctively moving closer to him and tucking herself against his side as they began to walk. "I know y'won't," she responded. He'd meant what he said, and she believed his words completely. "Now pick up the pace, will ya? We got the kids t'get back to."

Oliver smiled at his dear friend and let her link her arm with his, cuddling into her side as he did so. Mona always let him cuddle with her, even when he was still new to the gang, and he always like that about her. “I’ll be fine. We don’t have to go back if you don’t want to.” As he said those words, he sneezed into his damp sweater.

Ramona made a tsk of disapproval, shaking her head as he sneezed into the sleeve of his sweater. "Look at you, sneezin' all over yourself. Let's get you home first, alright? I don't mind an' I'm not in a hurry." She had planned on finishing her errands earlier, but they could wait. It was more important that for Oliver to get into some clean, dry clothes anyway.

"I guess that does make me feel a little bit better. Thank you." She could go on about her confusions about Dodger, but elected to change the subject instead. "How have you guys been doing? You know, after everything that happened."

"No problem -- and hey, Jennifer? Try not t'worry 'bout it, alright?" Ramona's expression grew serious at her inquiry, though she tried to stop herself from looking anxious. "S'fine, I think. Luckily everyone was okay, so we're dealin'. And you? How've you been?"

"Ophelia. She’s my niece."

"Gorgeous name for a gorgeous baby.  Y'look like a proud aunt."

"Have you ever woken up in the morning and just knew that everything would go right that day?" 

"Wish I could say I could say I did. Seems like most o'the time I feel the opposite."

"Beer’s fine. That’s more than enough."

"Alrighty, then." Ramona cracked the lid off and handed her the chilled bottle of beer. "Y'wanna talk about it or...?"

Rosalie needed a distraction. It seemed that since moving to Regium, she had developed a habit of starting a disproportionate amount of thoughts with the sentence ‘I need a distraction,’ but—them’s the ropes when you live in a city that eats crime for breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert. And she had chosen to stay here. Sure, she had tried to leave for a while before eventually coming back, but she had come back willingly. As much as she hated to admit it, there were things (or rather people) in this town that the blonde con artist wasn’t quite ready to let go of just yet. Maybe she never would be. That thought terrified her, and it was a fear that always became more potent in the aftermath of a shooting.

Unwilling to cope with it, or with anything at all, she was more than happy to doll up and go grab a drink or two (or ten) with Ramona. Sauntering into their bar of choice, Rosalie scanned the semi-crowded locale before sliding into an empty seat by the bar and ordering her usual, a double gin and tonic. Upon seeing her friend enter the room from the corner of her eye, she swirled in her seat to face the brunette, a wicked smirk on her face. “I was thinking,” she started, bringing the glass to her lips and having a sip. “That unless you need to, you know, run home and babysit the kids later, we should go dancing. It’s been ages since I went to a nightclub.”

Ramona was no stranger to stress; it was something she'd dealt with often as a young adult, even more consistently as she grew older, something that continued to eat at her even when she seemed her most relaxed. She supposed it went hand in hand with being the resident worrywart in Dodger's gang. Between worrying about the kids, worrying about Dane, and worrying about herself, she found it surprising that she'd managed to keep herself from completely unraveling, especially considering how hectic things had been as of late. And even though most of the people she knew had escaped the shooting (relatively) unscathed, Ramona could honestly admit that she was shaken to the core.

So of course, when she had managed to get in touch with Rosie, just after things had begun to die down, she was more than ready to join her in a night free of stress. Or so she hoped. Rosie was already at the bar when she arrived, sipping on what looked to be her drink of choice. Ramona greeted her friend warmly, taking a seat next to her and ordering a Jameson on the rocks. Immediately, she noticed the look on Rosie's face -- it was one Ramona was quite familiar with. "A nightclub? Been a while since I've gone t'one. Been a while since I went dancin', too," she mused, swirling her whiskey thoughtfully. Ramona tipped her glass back, downing the entirety of her drink and setting the glass back on the counter. "'m up for it if you are. Don't think I need t'head home just yet." She knew she could always count on a good time when Rosie was involved, and that was exactly what she was looking for.

"I guess it’s not that I think he dislikes me, per say.” It felt silly to explain her feelings on the subject. She just didn’t understand Dodger, but it seemed to come so easily to Ramona. However did she do it? “I’m just not sure how he feels about me at all. Does that make any sense?”

Ramona tilted her head, watching the brunette curiously as she spoke. It was true that reading Dane came easier to her, but they had known each other for years. She could understand why Jennifer would have a harder time with it. "Don't think he hates ya, if that makes y'feel better 'bout it. He's pretty goddamn clear when he doesn't like someone." 

Oliver blushed. “It was all she had and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. At least now I can get a gumball from one of those machines.” He grinned at her and linked an arm with her only to quickly let go once he realized how soaked his clothes were. He muttered a quick apology. “Yeah okay. Let’s do it. I like grocery shopping.”

"I'm jus' kiddin'," Ramona said with a laugh, reaching up with her free hand to ruffle Oliver's hair again. "S'okay, it's just water. Nothin' I can't handle," she assured him, before linking her arms with his and sending him a smile. "Though now that I think about it..." She paused, only just noticing the state of his clothes, "...we should prolly get back home t'get you a warm shower an' some dry clothes first." 

Catlyn shrugged. “I don’t know. Alcohol if you have it.”

"Got some beer here, I think. Dunno if that's strong enough for ya, but you're free t'help yourself."

"No particular occasion, it’s just been a really good Thursday."

"Good Thursday, huh? Well, good for you. Now I gotta ask why your Thursday's been so good."