For the writing-prompts I'm doing on tumblr. walkingmadness asked for "Please, come with me." for BusterXAsh.

Help

Ash has never been one to call for help. She's a rebel, she's a rocker, and, even more importantly, she's tough.

She doesn't need help.

And when she sends a text to Mr. Moon this evening it's not because she's a little drunk and can't find her keys, it's because she invites him to have a drink with her.

Because that's the good thing about the fact that she's turned twenty-one a few weeks ago - she can finally drink alcohol.

Okay, officially drink alcohol.

She's never really cared about drinking before because, well, she's a rebel. And she decided a long time ago that if she's old enough to drive a car, she's old enough to drink, too.

Not at the same time, of course, not even on the same day, but still.

But now she can drink beer at this bar, and it's nice.

Or it has been nice two beers ago. Now Ash feels dizzy and a bit sick, but she keeps telling herself that she doesn't care.

When Mr. Moon finally shows up, Ash raises her bottle of beer to greet him.

"Moon!" she calls out. "Come! Have a drink with me!"

The koala's eyes widen when he sees her, but he climbs the bar stool next to her nonetheless.

"Drinks are on me," Ash goes on, and Buster nods.

He orders some fancy cocktail, and the name alone makes Ash want to gag, but she fights it down.

She'll never get how an adult like Buster Moon can drink something that has a name that sounds like someone on drugs or trying to be poetic, or, no, someone on drugs trying to be poetic has made up.

She just shakes her head a little, but clinks her bottle to Mr. Moon's glass of colorful something anyway.

Moments pass and none of them says anything.

Only when Ash has finished her beer and wants to order a new one does Mr. Moon speak up.

"Don't you think you had enough?" he asks.

"Nope," Ash replies. "There's no such thing as enough beer."

The barkeeper brings her another bottle and she cheers to Buster which he returns reluctantly.

The first gulp makes her want to throw up, but she ignores it.

No such thing as enough beer, huh, Ash?

So she takes another gulp and another one. It still doesn't taste any better, but again, she tells herself that she couldn't care less.

"Are you okay?"

Mr. Moon's words make her put down the bottle.

"Is there any doubt?" she asks.

"Actually, there is, Ash," the koala replies. "You send me a text in the middle of the night asking me to have a drink with you and then I found you here at some bar obviously drunk. I'd say that's the definition of 'not okay'."

"I'm just having fun," she says, raising the bottle to her lips again.

"Are you?"

She shrugs. "Sure."

"You know what I think?"

"No, and I don't want to know, but you are going to tell me anyway, right?"

Mr. Moon sighs. "Yeah, because I think you should get out of here, grab a cab and get home. A good night's sleep is going to do wonders."

"Can't," Ash simply says.

"Can't what?"

"Can't go home. Can't find my keys."

"Okay, that's a problem," he replies. "Can't you stay at a friend's?"

"No," Ash says. "Johnny and Meena are out of town because of some concert, I don't want Rosita to see me like this, I'm afraid Gunter's furniture might be so colorful that it's melt my eyes, and I'd rather die than stay at Mike's."

"Then how about my place?" Mr. Moon suggests.

"Dunno," she replies.

"You can have the bed, I'll sleep on the couch and tomorrow, we'll see what we can do about your keys, okay?"

"Still dunno."

"Ash," Mr. Moon says and his voice sounds truly worried. "Please, come with me."

"Okay," Ash says as she climbs down from her bar stool which takes her longer than it usually would, and she bets it doesn't look as elegant as it usually would, but she's a rocker and a rebel and tough and she couldn't care less.

Mr. Moon calls a cab for them, and when she's finally climbed inside and the cab drives on, she's staring out of the window. She doesn't look at him or anything in particular, she just knows Mr. Moon is looking at her, and she knows he has this worried look on his face that wrinkles his forehead.

"He's going to marry her," Ash says.

She doesn't sound sad or anything, rather matter-of-factly, but saying out loud what has been bothering her all night makes her heart ache.

"Two years, Moon," Ash goes on, her voice getting louder as the ache in her heart increases. "They've been together for two years! Lance and I have been together for three years! Three fucking years, and he never asked me to marry him! But he asked her. After two years! He's..."

Suddenly her throat feels so tight that it's hard to breathe.

"He's going to marry her," she adds, her voice dampened by the tears that somehow made it to her eyes and which she failed to blink away.

She feels an arm around her shoulders and leans closer to Mr. Moon, letting her head come to rest on his shoulder. And then she finally lets the tears flow.

No, Ash doesn't need help. Never has. Never will.

She can accept it, though.