Work Text:
"I think we did it."
Jamie is sitting beside the coffee table, his legs crossed beneath him on the blue rug, when his best friend's shaky voice cuts through the lull that had settled around them as they idly tidied. Lucy is her name, and she stands inside the squeaky-clean kitchenette of their quaint studio apartment, scanning the carefully stocked cupboards and reopening and closing the fridge which is filled to the brim with prepared salads and freshly sliced fruits. "What, Luce?"
"Jamie, we did it!"
"Did what?" Jamie asks, hoisting himself from the floor and delicately replacing the deck of cards he'd subconsciously reordered after dusting the table. He walks the few metres across the mopped, white tiles to where Lucy now fidgets, stepping between appliances and looking pointlessly into the crevices of the non-existent corners between the walls and the counter. She's pacing and it takes an unusual amount of effort for Jamie to still her.
Gently, of course, he takes light hold of her hands, letting her a moment to meet his gaze. "You're okay, Lucy." It's not a question, what with a broad smile plastered on her lips. She nods. "What's up? Are you worried about Chloe and Amber coming over?"
"No, no, I'm just-" She pauses, turning around, pulling open the cutlery drawer, selecting and scrutinising a fork, placing it back in its compartment and closing the drawer.
"Some pent-up energy, maybe?" Jamie suggests and prepares a small glass of water and ice for his friend. "Have you taken your meds today?"
Lucy downs the glass with a single swig and a thankful nod of her head. "No." She turns again. She takes a short step toward the sink and must decide better of it - or, perhaps, another thought has crossed her mind - because she quickly places the glass with its single ice cube on the crackled marble counter. "No, I was feeling very productive this morning."
"Should you take a dosage now?"
"Yeah, probably," Lucy agrees as she reaches on her tippy-toes into the medicine cabinet, which sits only slightly out of her relaxed reach. She knocks the Adderall into her chest and catches it against her breast with her other hand. Sliding a blister packet from the box, she pops two five-milligram pills onto the counter whilst terribly emulating the sound with the click of her tongue against the inside of her cheek. It earns a snort out of Jamie as he watches her spin gracelessly in search of- "Water! That's what I need."
"Yes, your glass," he nods shortly as he refills it for her.
"What would I do without you, Mr Jamesy?" She takes the glass from his hands, gratefully once again, and drinks it easily with two sips.
It takes Jamie a moment to realise that, as Lucy turns on the sink tap once again and tips the ice into the basin, it's not to replenish her water supply but to wash the glass instead. "Lucy?"
"Hmmm?" She tugs on the towel hanging from the oven handle to dry the glass.
Jamie smiles, walking over to her forgotten medicine and tidying the packet into its place in the cupboard. "Your pills."
"Oh, shit!" She says in a hurried frenzy as she splashes more water on the floor than in her glass in her spectacular attempt to fill it. "Gimme those."
She's pointing at the pills now sitting in Jamie's palm before he hands them over. She rewashes the glass - and dries it again - after swallowing her Adderall, and she's on the floor beside Jamie quickly wiping the small puddle that formed from her haste.
As they stand, Jamie offering his hand to take the rag from his bouncing friend's hands, Lucy exclaims again, "we did it!"
"What? Took your pills?" He laughs and neatly folds and hangs the rags over the oven handle.
She nods aggressively--excitedly. "Well, yes, but no, we cleaned the house. And we finished getting ready a whole-" She glances at her bare wrist. "Where's my watch?"
Lucy's enthusiasm is instantly replaced by widened eyes, restless pacing and frantic hand movements.
"It's charging beside your bed, remember?"
"Oh, yeah, no, yeah- Thank you. Yes."
Jamie stands beside her, a hand rested on her shoulder, as she takes deep breaths and shakes her hands. There's a moment of silence as a calm settles around them and as quickly as Lucy's excitement had disappeared, it reappears. "Well, look," she begins, searching for then pointing at the digital, red oven clock. "We're forty-one minutes ahead of schedule!"
"That clock's four minutes behind."
His remark falls flat as his best friend groans with an exaggerated, "fine. We're thirty-seven minutes ahead of schedule then."
Her dramaticism at least draws a light laugh from Jamie as he agrees, "yes, we are. Pretty spectacular ain't it?"
"No, I don't think you understand the gravity of th-"
"Hah," he interjects. "No, I definitely do. What with your executive dysfunction and my crippling indecision, we never get anything done. I know, Luce. I know."
"Well, yeah. This is really amazing!" she declares, gesturing around the apartment. "This is the only the fourth time ever that I've been early for something." She stops and looks Jamie dead in the eye. "We did it."
"Yes, Lucy. Congratulations." He pulls his friend into a precarious side hug that collapses as laughter ripples between them.
"We did it."