Title: Only When We Stop To Think About It

Pairing: Velma/Roxie

Rated R for liquor & sex.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Thanks: This is for Vikki Kelly, because she was stressed out, and then I sent her this, and then she was cheered up. Yay! :D

Notes: Um, I can honestly say the idea came to me when I was drunk. I don't think any further explanation is necessary. At least it's not a "sugar high". :P Not to mention I love researching the 20's. It also makes me appreciate that prohibition is long gone, though I shouldn't be drinking legally anyway :P Four more years. Um. Don't drink and drive kids. Don't drink. K?

Originally, this was NC-17, but I took out what needed to be rated R. So...sorry kids…you get the edited version. Sorry. Haha.

Oh, one more note. It's really random.

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Thursday night, just one day stray of the weekend and an odd day to be out for the night. Yet the trumpets blared, glasses clanked, and the smell of cigarette smoke was the only thing shading the aroma of alcohol. The bootlegger women pranced about, stopping at various tables and planting their foot on a man's leg, pulling up their dress to reveal the canteen of gin hidden in their stocking. The men would smile, running their tobacco stained finger tips along the women's thighs until they came to the canteen, then would lace their fingers around it, and pull it out, as if it were illegal. Which it was. Even in the false security of the speakeasies, where alcohol was filled to the rim at the bar, they still played these games with the women, though there were brothels within walking distance.

The flapper girls did what they did best, two of which already had quite a name for themselves in and out of the speakeasies. They had finished a show at the Onyx, and growing bored with the long night still ahead, they followed the masses to the underground saloon, get a drink or two and make some extra cash. Once they hit the street, the crowds separated, going towards the bar in which they knew the password for. Velma insisted that they should be able to get in anywhere, with names such as theirs, and she was right. They usually went to a different one every night under these circumstances.

One would never understand why something so illegal was flaunted in such a way, the crowds and drunks didn't bother to lower their voices. The music continued as if the display was an attempt to draw the crowds, not avoid the police. Once the two had finished their routine, which most of the patrons had already seen earlier that night, they pulled up two seats at a table in the center of the room. Men flocked around them, offering them glasses of gin and beer, both of them accepting it without thanks. Roxie would pull cigarettes from her garter, the swarms of men returned to offer them a light. This is what she wanted all along, after all.

They'd pass around drinks and stories of how the drinks were acquired, if any. As the hours passed, the stories seemed to blend together with the lights and drinks. As the drinks were poured, they'd indulge for no other reason than that it was there. Roxie laughed like a hyena at everything, and would spill the drinks when she slammed her hands on the table to emphasize her amusement. Velma somehow retained her composure, still flicking the cigarette in the proper place rather than having to get a new one each time lost it while waving her hands about in an attempt to exaggerate her tale. Yet just a few minutes later, she found the humor in anything as simple as the way Roxie reached for her drink, having to transfer her cigarette to the other hand. Velma admitted to herself that she was tipsy, and if she wanted, the liquor in her apartment would finish the job. She'd be passed out in another hour. At least she knew her limit.

Though the bar was still patronized and the customers showed no intention of returning home anytime soon, Roxie stood up, standing at an odd angle on her ankle and plummeting to the floor, still laughing and holding her drink. She made another attempt to get on her feet, this time misplacing her hands on the floor. She fell back, still laughing wildly, shattering the glass and spilling the drink everywhere, causing her to laugh even more. Velma leaned down to grab her hand, but was nearly pulled to the floor instead. She caught herself, and Roxie just lay back on the wooden floor again. Velma gave her a hard kick in the thigh, hoping such a gesture would knock some sense into her. However, she rolled over onto her side, giggling. Velma kicked her again, this time in the lower back. She wanted to smash the liquor bottle over her head, but then it occurred to her, why did she care what happened to Roxie tonight? As long as she showed up the next evening for their show, to hell with her. She sat back down to have another drink before making her exit, grateful for her ability to hold her liquor better than Roxie. This was only the third or fourth time she had taken Roxie along with her, and usually they separated after dancing. She tore her stare away from the booze on the table to Roxie's seat, where she was sitting again, holding another drink. She was embarrassed to be with her anymore. Velma lit another cigarette and stood up, though slightly unbalanced, she didn't fall. Roxie stood up as well, ready to follow. Velma rolled her eyes, not that Roxie had noticed, and made her way to the exit, closely pursued by a stumbling Roxie. She was debating whether or not to make an attempt to lose her. She didn't want blamed for Roxie Hart dying of alcohol poison. Yes, it would be the combination of liquor and jazz that would lead to her downfall. She noticed Roxie still held a bottle, mostly full, in her hand, though she didn't care right now. She didn't want anyone to see them like this. Everything was going blissfully smooth, all they needed was a journalist at a speakeasy taking photographs and interviewing them while they were drunk. Velma broke through the crowd and hooked arms with Roxie, would continued to wave her arm about, the bottle still clasped between her fingers. They'd worry about hiding it later.

They somehow managed to make it to Velma's apartment building, Velma still keeping hold of her, practically dragging her up the stairs. Roxie took swigs of the liquor every few steps, as if to motivate her to continue. She had thought about taking Roxie back to her own apartment, but the attempt to ask Roxie where she kept her keys proved to be pointless. Velma fumbled with the keys for a moment, perhaps she had had more drinks than she thought. After finally finding the correct key, she pushed the door open and flung Roxie at the bed. Roxie held tight to Velma's arm and dragged her with her. She landed on top of her, Roxie still clutching the liquor bottle and still gulping it down. Velma was growing tired of watching her do such, and snatched the bottle off of her, finding that it was still surprisingly still at least three fourths still full. She took a few long gulps before setting it on her nightstand, switching on the lamp, and lying down. She didn't care what Roxie did, if she wanted to stay, if she wanted to go, either was fine. She did her part. She sat up, twisted the cap back on the bottle. Roxie crawled on top of her, looking at her longingly in the eyes. She leaned forward to kiss her, but was quickly backhanded off the bed. She got back up, and returned to her position on top of Velma.

"But d-don't you love me, Vel?"

"You're drunk, Roxie."

"No…no…I'm not...drunk! I…I think…I just have some kinda speech…impediment…I dunno…maybe…maybe I'm just...tired…" She was still facing Velma, and learned forward, resting her head on her shoulder.

"Go to sleep, Roxie." She pushed her back again, though she kept her balance on the bed at least. But Roxie persisted.

"I…think me and you…. should…go out tonight! W-wouldn't…wouldn't…that'd…wouldn't that'd...be…kinda…fun? Do you think...do you think that'd be fun, Velma? I…I want to get drunk…I've never been drunk…I...don't think…have you? H-have you ever been really…really…you ever been drunk before, Velma? I…don't think I have…God…I'm so tired…" She leaned forward and kissed Velma, who backhanded her off the bed again.

"You…I don't like you…when…. I d-don't like you when…when you're…when you're…drunk, Velma…you…need to stop drinking," she said as she made a feeble attempt to get up back onto the bed again. Velma watched her, chuckling to herself. Roxie amused her, if anything. She knew Roxie was a horny little bitch when she was drunk, no matter who she was with, but it just added to the amusement. Perhaps the alcohol was going to her head, but for a split second, if that, Velma didn't care. She wanted to get drunk with Roxie and have some fun. They were in her own apartment; no one would hear anything of it in the morning. Her sense of rationalizing was still there, she wasn't drunk enough yet. She reached for the bottle on the nightstand and took a swig, gulping it until there was none left, until she ended the contemplation of whether or not to have another by stumbling slightly to the fridge and pulling out a few more bottles. She smiled, mostly to herself. Doing things illegally was fun.

Roxie ran her hand from Velma's ankles and tightly around her thigh, over her stomach and chest until she came to her face, gripping her jaw and shoving her tongue down her throat. Velma made no attempt to stop her this time. She, instead, pulled down her bra strap and undid the back of her dress, all while still remaining lip locked. Roxie did the same, as well as removing her stockings and garter. Roxie pulled away for a second before kissing her on her neck, trailing down to her collarbone. Velma pulled her shoulder back so that more of her collarbone was exposed and could be fluttered over with more kisses. She placed a firm hand back on the inside of her leg and glided it up her thigh. It came as a shock to Velma as to what came next, having never been touched by another girl in such a way. She was sure Roxie was used to this sort of thing, as she knew what to do and how to do it. At this point, she didn't care, and reached for a bottle of liquor to drown in. In the morning, Roxie would probably be gone, and neither of them would remember a thing. It had been a while since she had such promiscuous sex, if that's what this was called.

The light of the lamp at her bedside through her eyelids forced Velma awake. From the look of the sky, the day had carried on for quite a while without her. Her head was pounding, not to mention how alarmed she was when she realized she was naked. She had grown used to waking up naked beside Charlie years ago, but those days were gone and now she was just slightly confused. Had she had a fling last night? With who? The only thing she could fully concentrate was her pounding headache, which was explained by the four empty liquor bottles littered across the floor and on the nightstand. Blonde hair strewn about on the pillow caught her eye, and she lifted the covers to find a sleeping Roxie. A lump formed in her throat.

"Roxie, god damnit, get UP!" She violently shook her awake, not caring if she woke the neighbors or not.

Roxie rolled over, as if all that had been done to her was a polite shaking of her shoulder. "What the…fuck?!" She jumped out of the bed, holding the covers around her, eyeing Velma up and down.

"What…the…hell…happened last night?" Velma said as best she could, adding emphasis of her angry confusion on every syllable.

"You're asking ME what the hell happened? Like I know any better than you do!" Roxie threw her hands up, her elbows still holding the blanket tight against her body.

"God damnit, Rox, what the fuck did we do? I remember doing a show, and having a few drinks…but…what the hell…" she scrounged about for her clothes, throwing them on haphazardly.

Roxie remained wrapped in the blanket, not sure where to begin. "It smells like liquor and sex in here," she said, sniffing the air slightly.

"No shit it smells like alcohol—what?"

Roxie shrugged. "We fucked up again. Literally. The hell?"

"Just…god damnit…what the…what the fuck did we do? The fuck?!" Velma paced around, making a grab for the half full bottle sitting on the floor in her way and taking a swig.

"Way to go, Vel, why don't we just get drunk again?"

"I just…god…unless we had a few guys in here and they left…"

"…which I would have remembered!" Roxie was growing just as frustrated as Velma now.

"Funny, you would remember if a guy was in here, but you don't remember if we did anything as such last night?"

"Why would we do anything?"

"You get drunk, shit happens. I know that much."

Roxie shrugged and went about picking up the articles of clothing that were scattered about on the apartment floor.

"Just…don't…tell anyone about this…" Velma started, now sitting on the bed, holding a bottle between her knees.

"I won't, if you won't."

"Why would I?"

"Just…one more thing…"

"What?"

"Can…can we do it again sometime?"