concierge: (Default)
[personal profile] concierge
Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.

Oct. 4th, 2013 04:21 pm
makingnerdslookgood: (not happy)
[personal profile] makingnerdslookgood
When she was working on both of her dissertations, Sloan had been a chain smoker. One cig right after the other, the glowing cherry of the soon-to-be-forgotten first lighting the tip of the next. A sharp inhale, smoky goodness filling her lungs, and then long exhale – the better to savor it all.

The day Sloan received her second doctorate, she quit smoking. Cold turkey, even. Most people think it can’t be done, but Sloan never followed the crowd when it came to, well, everything.

It really wasn’t that difficult for her to quit. As with almost everything else in her life, once Sloan put her mind to it, she simply accomplished it. End of story.

She hadn’t thought about nicotine, cigarettes, Camels, smoking, Zippos, or anything remotely related to smoking in years…

Until today.

Today wasn’t bad as far as days went. Stuck in a luxurious hotel with people way more interesting than her, she couldn’t complain about much. (Well, there was that painted guy who leered at her every morning when she got her coffee, but Sloan was fairly confident that a swift kick in the shins followed by a fast run would do the trick if he stepped over the line from leering to actually scaring her.) The food was good, a lot of the people were nice to look at (She was dying to feel that Thor guy’s arms. They looked massive!), Will and Mackenzie were here, she could visit the spa whenever she needed a pick-me-up…

In spite of all that, though, today made her want a cigarette so damned bad that she could practically taste it.

This morning, day 34 of being a (stuck) guest at the hotel, Sloan woke up with an ache deep in her chest. She missed ACN. She missed the news. She missed her financial reports. Hell, she even missed Zane.

Sloan missed everything about her job so much that it nearly physically hurt. There wasn’t much she could do about taking that twinge away, but she could smoke a cigarette. It would keep her mind off of the fact she was stuck here, and that she can’t do what she does best.

So, Sloan hauled herself to the shop to purchase a pack of smokes and a shiny new Zippo.

Taking her new purchases up to the smoking room, Sloan found a prime seat near the stage. After sipping the bourbon she ordered in honor of Charlie, Sloan packed the box of Camels and removed one. A flick of the lighter, a deep inhalation, and suddenly Sloan was transported back to Duke as if it was yesterday and she had one day to revise a 100-page dissertation chapter for her advisor.

Sep. 11th, 2013 06:12 pm
makingnerdslookgood: (assessing)
[personal profile] makingnerdslookgood
"I made it to the rage phase," Sloan says coolly, leaning in nice and close to get a good photo of Scott with her phone. He looks terrible, writhing in pain on the floor with blood streaming out of his nose.

Good. Asshole deserves it.

Spinning on her heels, Sloan exits the board room and crosses the waiting room, where Don (good pal that he is) is waiting. Scott's $400 wing tips stomp across the floor as he follows her, but Sloan doesn't slow down or even look back. Don has her covered.

As she looks down at the photo on her phone (which she is strongly considering making the wallpaper on her work computer), a triumphant smile appears on her face.

The rage phase feels good.

Exhaling slowly, Sloan pushes open the door to the stairwell and steps through, knowing Don will catch up in a minute.

Eyes flicker up from the phone's screen and widen.

"Okay, maybe not," she mutters to herself. The stairwell that she knows is supposed to be there just isn't. There's a bar, but it doesn't look like any bar she's ever been to. Whirling around, incredibly confused, she turns the knob on the door she just came through. When it opens, she sees nothing familiar, not the hall she just came down, no Don waiting for her, nothing.

Stifling back one of those laughs that tend to bubble up when you panic, Sloan swallows heavily and looks around.

It had been a hell of a day and she was in a bar. Maybe a drink wouldn't hurt.

Besides, after the day she's had, Sloan figures she deserves one.


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