night & day [tara]

Tara sandwiched her beer bottle in the crook of her arm as she clapped and let out a loud whistle between her teeth as Harlan wrapped up his speech and had grinned at him as he weaved through the crowd to find her again after coming off the stage. "Nice speech, didn't know you had such eloquent words to say, captain," she joked, pushing against his shoulder playfully. "I promised no tomatoes, I threw no tomatoes," she said smartly with a smile. "Next time you forget to mention me personally though? I"m not holding back."

They were a part of the crowd, Tara seeing more and more people coming up to congratulate their captain, and Tara was genuinely happy for him. It was definitely a weird experience for her. It wasn't something she had expected at all, but considering the feat they had achieved tonight, she was willing to go with it. Whatever the hell it was. She looked heavenward and shook her head as she sipped on her beer, further emphasizing that she had a drink and he didn't. "I'm sure we can somehow find you another drink somewhere here," she quipped with sarcasm.

"Oh you saw that one, did you?" Tara asked glancing up at him with a smirk on her face before he was pushed into her and she found herself up against his hard chest. "Oof! Careful," she warned cradling her beer as she caught it from falling and shattering. She glanced at his empty hands though. "Seems like it's time to get you another drink though. Follow me."

The alcohol and the victory fueled her boldness as she took his hand in hers and pulled him through the crowd. She weaved in and out of people until they had arrived before the shining Quidditch Cup, all lit up in its glory. She stole a bottle of champagne from one of the wait staff in all black, blowing him a kiss and then telling him to get lost as she pushed the bottle toward Harlan. Then she nodded to the cup. "It's tradition. Captains gotta drink from the Cup first. Get up there."

"Dramatic," Harlan made a point to roll his eyes before turning to whoever had pushed him forward. Thankfully, the kid looked just as surprised as he was, and immediately apologized.

He wasn't given much an option to not follow Tara as she pulled him after her, but he would have anyway. At least with Tara, he knew he could avoid awkward small talk that usually plagued things like this. Give it another hour or so, he figured, and everyone would be too drunk to care. "Bar's over there—" Harlan stopped short of teasing her as soon as he realized what she was up to. The Cup. He grinned.

With the chilled champagne bottle now thrust into his arms, Harlan studied the trophy up close. This was the closest he'd been to it, and it looked different from what he imagined. It was ornate and impossibly polished— it looked like something that belonged in a museum, not at the Griffins stadium.

"Suppose I need to open it as well?" He joked, nodding to the waitstaff that she'd just so kindly told to fuck off. Harlan tested the pressure on the cork before it popped open with one swift move of his thumb. The sound caught the attention of the people around them and it seemed now he would have to do this with an audience. Just what he wanted.

He made a point to roll his eyes at her before pouring the contents in and taking a mouthful to the sound of cheers around them. Wiping the champagne from his chin with the back of his hand, he shook his head at Tara. "I'd offer you some— but, y'know, not on the team," Harlan spoke over the crowd and quirked an eyebrow at her. Payback.

Dramatic. She grinned and gave him a wink before lifting her drink to her lips.

"Yeah, yeah," Tara said over her shoulder as he pointed out the bar that she obviously knew about it. He might be quick on the pitch, but he was a bit slow to pick up what she was after. But luckily, she saw him connect the dots when she gave him the champagne and nodded towards the trophy. She wasn't quite sure how he had waited this long to do it, but hell if he needed the encouragement, she was here for it. Mostly because she wanted to drink from the cup too. But she was gracious enough to let him go first. That Thibault guy though? He was definitely back of the line.

With the pop of the cork, Tara let out a loud, long whooping noise, loving the way heads turned in their direction. She knew Harlan would probably hate it, but if she were honest: he needed to live a little. And this was in his best interest besides. They were making memories tonight. "To the Griffins!" she shouted loudly, which the crowd started to repeat and she looked up at the captain with a wide smile at having incited the crowd.

"Best drink you've ever had right?" she asked as he wiped his chin, just before he called her out in front of everyone. She laughed and flipped him off, but waved the team on ahead of her, being all gracious and everything. She could be patient and wait her turn, let the players get the glory they so deserved.

Actually, fuck that, she thought as she hopped up next to Harlan, sliding in next to him and grabbing the cup. "It's my team too," she said smirking at him before talking the cup and drinking greedily, feeling the bubbly fizz slide down her throat. She hugged the cup with both arms and then spied an event photographer around the other side with his lens directed at them and playing it up for the camera, Tara pointed at the photographer with one hand, the other arm around the cup, and nudged Harlan with her hip. "Smile, idiot. I'm going to frame this one!'

God damn if Tara Kingsley wasn't the match that lit the fucking flame. Harlan shook his head from the elevated half-stage where the trophy had lived from the night, his own dull grey eyes illuminated by the frenzied lights of the party, casting shadows over his bruised features. For a moment, he forgot about any of the injuries. Though he hated to give her any credit, she certainly had a knack for getting people in on the celebration. It was infectious.

Unsurpinsgly whatever fraction of modesty she'd displayed by ushering the rest of the team forward was gone in an instant and there she was right up against him. "Merlin's sake—" Harlan started, but paused right on time for the flash of the camera, his face pulling up into something a smile, for him. By this time, he'd perfected the art of being photographed when it was the very last thing that he wanted to do.

"Alright, alright," After holding the cup for a few of the other players Harlan passed along the duty. He was all too happy to be out of the limelight to leave that for some of the newer players— the ones who relished in this sort of thing. Not so long ago he would have been right there in the middle of it, soaking up all of the attention he could glean.

"I can sign that, yeah?" Harlan turned to Tara in the crowd with a knowing smirk. "If you're getting it framed and all," He pretended to be unaware of the reaction he knew he would get out of her and instead focused on the bubbles from the champagne that seemed to have made it into his blood, up to his thoughts. He could have sworn he was walking on air.

"We fucking did it," He said, as though it had only just hit him at that moment, as they reached the outside of the crowd that had amassed the trophy. It was quieter there already. Harlan grinned, earnestly, touching a hand to her arm without thought, the need to touch something was not something he could even conceptualize. Champagne was not good for him. His hand drifted down to her forearm before there was another shot thrust at him.

"All yours," He palmed it off to Tara as the gift-giver slapped a hand to his back and went on their way. "Well—" On second thought. He took half before handing it over. Fucking tequila something.

She nudged his hip with hers and muttered a "stop complaining" before smiling widely as they were photographed, the cup shiny and bright in their arms. She wouldn't give this moment up for anything in the world. Even if the photo was going to have Harlan's ugly mug in it.

Tara grumbled a little as he passed the Cup on to some of the other players, not wanting to let go of this moment so soon, but seeing the excitement on some of the other's faces made her give in and she followed Harlan as they waded back into the crowd. "You'll be lucky if your ugly mug gets in the frame at all. Might ask them to crop you out," Tara retorted with a wide grin, the champagne and the victory singing through her, adding to the high of the win.

"We did!!" she said excitedly as she looked up at him, grabbing his arms and shaking him a little as her excitement couldn't be contained. "Well, you did. I'm buzzed enough to say I'm proud of you, but this is a one time only occurrence!" she said, surprising herself with her little admission. And then because it was almost too honest and too genuine, she narrowed her gaze at him and shook her head. "Don't let that go to your head, Bellamy," before she half-turned as someone put their hand on her shoulder, Cindy from Sales, half hugging her in their excitement before she melted back into the crowd.

She turned back to find Harlan sliding a shot in her hand and she perked her brows, interested but ready to throw it back. "This isn't from Thibault, right?" she asked on a laugh before she let out a noise of complaint as he stole it back, drinking half. She wasn't really angry though. It may or may not be her goal to get him as drunk as possible. He deserved it after this win. She took the rest of the shot, smiling widely before she pulled him to the bar for more drinks.

It was a couple hours later of drinking, reminiscing about her favorite plays of the game, congratulating other team members as they stopped by and Tara ordered drinks for them too, and celebrating the victory as one does when you with the biggest fucking prize in pro sports. The party was still in full swing, but it seemed cozier, whether because of how many drinks she had had this far or because everyone had settled into the feeling of victory. Tara was sitting in one of the bar stools, leaning her head in her hand as she sipped at a beer and gazed at the captain, a glimmer of mischief dancing in her eyes. "So you gonna tell me about your big break up that was in the news? Promise I won't tell the presssss," she said, slightly slurring her words, slightly singing them, hoping this was the time of the night where he was going to spill his secrets.

Time seemed to be moving more quickly now.

One moment he was in the middle of the crowd, at every turn moving between embraces and congratulatory claps on his back, and the next it was quiet again— in comparison. The party was still kicking on though numbers had diminished. From what he could see from the bar that was set aside from the action, everyone was more fluid in their movements, stuck to each other more closely and high on the win, even just by proxy.

They had done that.

The thought struck Harlan again like a bolt of lightning in his chest but Tara's voice caught his attention before he could get too sentimental, even if it was just in his own head. It took him a millisecond longer to process her question, but he turned to her with a quirked eyebrow, half-smirk on his mouth. Harlan pushed the place just under his lower lip with his tongue in thought, crossing his arms over his chest. Now well on his way to being proper drunk, stupidly he thought he might be able to avoid that conversation.

Had it been in the press? Meridith had done well to have kept that little secret from him. He imagined she pulled out all the favors to keep that off his doorstep during the finals. Letting out a sigh, Harlan ran a hand through his jostled hair, "Fuck," before wiping the residual lipstick from his cheek, the corner of his mouth. Mrs. Applebly, the stakeholder with a penchant for wandering hands (and mouth) struck again.

Even drunk, he shifted in his seat at the turn of the conversation. "Well if it was in the press, surely you've gotten all you need to know?" Harlan quipped cooly. Apparently that too he was still good at when he was drunk. But then his face softened for a moment. Quickly he took a drink of beer to expel all the places that his mind had threatened to get lost in. It was a dangerous time to be doing too much thinking.

"I fucked up—" He said, a bit more quietly now. "—big surprise, I know," Harlan furtively glanced over at Tara before steadying his gaze forward to the bar again. He wasn't sure why he couldn't look her in the eye when he finally said it out loud. Was that the first time?

"Missed a spot, hotshot," Tara giggled at her inadverdent rhyming as she reached out to wipe the smear of lipstick leftover on his cheek. She wasn't too gentle about it either, a smirk playing about her lips before she sank back onto her stool, wavering before she leaned against the bar for stability.

"Nooo, Blair didn't tell me all the nitty gritty details, Bellamy," Tara told him as she waggled her brows. It was a few seconds later that she realized she shouldn't have said that. She pointed a finger at him. "Don't tell Blair I told you that. Wasn't 'pposed to tell you that," she grinned, feeling light and airy from all the alcohol like she was floating. Blair was her source of secret team gossip even though normally she pretended not to care.

Tara had to lean in to hear him in his more quiet tone and her brows perked at his little confession. "Oh really?" she asked, feigning surprise with a laugh. "Well, c'mon now. That is not a surprise at all. What'd you do? Call her the wrong name in bed? My name perhaps?" she teased with a laugh as she nudged him with her elbow.

Harlan sat back in the barstool and watched as Tara leaned forward to wipe what was left of Mrs. Applebly's lipstick from the side of his mouth. His eyes were honeyed over from the drinks, the rest of him also uncharacteristically comfortable with her thumb rubbing roughly against his skin. On any other occasion, he would have swatted her hand away or made a remark, but he was one too many drinks in to keep up that whole act.

"Ohh, now I've got to keep your secret, hm?" Clearly, the idea of having something to hold over her appealed to him, though he had no real intention of selling her out to her sister. It was on him, anyway, his unrealistic expectation that if he just didn't talk about it, no one would know and the whole thing would simply go away, like it never happened.

"Don't flatter yourself," Harlan pushed his leg against hers with a rare genuinely bright smile that faltered only slightly when he thought of the real reasons why things had gone to shit. "That only happened a few times anyway..." He quipped, turning at the feeling of a hand clapped to his back. It was Rob and was whispering something about some top-secret team tradition the players were gathering for.

"Save the story for another time, then?" Harlan turned back to Tara with a not-so-apologetic shrug. Saved by the ex-Keeper with the neck tattoo and unlit cigar propped in his mouth. As he stood up he gave the top of her leg a squeeze then moved to rest where her shoulder met her neck. He wanted to say something like he was proud of her, or that he was happy she was here, that this was the team he'd finally done it with, but he settled with a look that he imagined might convey his feelings before turning to follow his once teammate.

[fin]
 

"What good are you for if not for keeping a few secrets?" she retorted lightly, playful with all the alcohol they had consumed tonight. She wasn't too concerned about this secret anyway. There were other secrets she might be more afraid of laying at his feet, but a secret from Blair? It would be met with her sister's typical glare and huff, idle threats, and a bit of a cold shoulder, but her sister would give in eventually. She always did. But speaking of other secrets, she knew Harlan had those as well. Her speed broom racing, for one. She gazed at him, her eyes a little unfocused, returning his smile if only because his was so bright.

A surprised bit of laughter bubbled up, helped along by the alcohol, as she grinned over at him and shaking her head. Naughty but flattering. "I knew you missed me," she replied sarcastically with a flounce of her hair. She saw a big hulk of a guy sidle up and she recognized Gilchrist in all of his Keeper glory whispering to their Captain. "Robbieeeee," Tara called to him, smiling but motioning him over as she wrapped him in a one arm hug and a kiss on the cheek before shooting a pout to Harlan. "Not inviting me? How rude," she told him before rolling her eyes. Probably time she found Ryder anyway... if he was even still here.

She saw the look on Harlan's face and she gave him a crooked smile. Something passed in the air between, some unspoken thing that she couldn't quite decipher but it felt nice and good and she brought her hand up to lay on top of his where it rested on her shoulder, patting it a couple of times. Tara was surprised by the feeling that she might actually get misty-eyed and pushed that thought away immediately. Here they were, celebrating the achievement of a lifetime, all thanks to him. Words she couldn't possibly give voice to. So instead she pushed his hand away and flapped her hands at him, shooing him off to wherever Rob was taking him, and stood up before melding back into the crowd herself.

/fin