Blind Date
Hey readers! I'm sorry for the long wait for all my stories, but I'm experiencing the horrible illness known only as "real life". I will try to update soon, and sorry for the long wait! Anyway, here is a KF/Jinx AU story I wrote with fellow co-author, fanficprincess101! Check out her TT stories, they're really good!
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, blah blah blah…
"What?" the red-headed man leaped out of his seat, shocked. They elderly gray-haired man nodded gravely.
"Yes, Wally. I'm afraid it was your father's wish that you were married before you took on the ownership of the company." Wally West ran his fingers through his red locks, distracted.
"Isn't there some sort of exception? Some—some, loophole or something?" twenty three year old Wally West was talking with his lawyer. His parents, Rudolph and Mary West, had been co-owners of a wealthy and prestigious business. When they died in a freak accident, the company was taken over by Wally's uncle, but now his uncle was too old to run the business. In his will, it was Rudolph West's wish that his son was married before he took over the company. When he wrote the will, Wally was seventeen and wild. Bart hoped that a wife, and possibly kids, would help center the boy. My lawyer pulls out a list.
"These are the girls you have to meet. We've arranged lots of girls, so don't hurry to make your decision." Translation: "These are all the sluts that we've managed to find. Please make one of them pregnant so that you have to marry them." I hate lawyers.
So here I am, sitting in the coffee shop, with a cold coffee, my third day of blind dates. The weather is gloomy and gray, and the smirking waitress who takes every opportunity to tease me isn't helping either.
I'm supposed to meet this new girl today on a blind date, named Stacy. Apparently she's very entrancing for all the guys she meets. I can only hope she'll have a bigger vocabulary then that dumb blonde that came in yesterday. I never knew someone could say "OMG!" so many times in one sentence. Oh, my. Stacy just walked in…. Uh, she sure is entrancing, I guess. She's wearing a leather mini skirt (A REALLY mini skirt), and a see-through white tube top that's cropped to show her belly. This day just keeps getting better and better. (That was sarcasm, by the way)
She looks me up and down, purses her lips, and says, "Are you supposed to be Wally? Wally West?"
"That's me." It pains me to say that sentence. Why couldn't I be a Dick Grayson or something? He doesn't have to go on stupid blind dates and meet tons of idiots. Argh.
"Well, you're not as hot as the guys I did last night, but since you're rich, I'll do you. Now, you have to understand, in this relationship, I require certain…things. I mean, my Gucci shoes aren't paid for with my money!" She then laughed hysterically, as if she thought it was the funniest joke she had ever made. Sadly, it probably was. What have I gotten into? I glared at her skeptically. Could that girl even hear herself at all?
She dragged her chair over to mine, making a show of sitting down, practically on my lap. She then puts her face about two inches from mine, sliding her hand onto my thigh.
"So," she whispered seductively. "Tell me about yourself."
A cough sounds just to our left, and I jerk away in embarrassment, my cheeks flaming red to match my hair. Looking over, I see the pretty waitress with pink hair, standing with a hand on her hips and a smirk on her lips. She speaks up, "Hey, I hope I didn't interrupt anything."
My 'date' glares at her angrily, hissing, "If you wouldn't mind, we have some unfinished business."
"Well, actually, I do mind. It's my job. So shut up and order." Stacy gets up and leaves.
"I'm going to the washroom." Whoa, attitude. I can't help but think of how pretty the waitress is while I wait for Stacy to return. Her hair is so soft and shiny, and her eyes sparkle with an evil intent. Wait, evil intent? But they're so pink, and shiny…Ooooh, shiny…. My uncle always said I was easily amused. And I had some sort of weird obsession with shiny things…. Remember? The chipmunk, the action figure and the tree… I'll never forget…. Stacy comes back and sits down huffily. I do notice out of the corner of my eye that she's raised her shirt another inch, and pulled it down half an inch, revealing copious amounts of cleavage. I continue to stare at the waitress's eyes. She raises her arm and lightly hits me over the head.
"Can you stop staring at me and order? Your wife is getting a bit angry." I'm taken aback by this comment.
"She's not my wife!" I hiss at her. "And she probably will never be!" I glare at her, only to see Stacy stand up and hit me over the head with her Prada purse.
"You moron! Like, god! All they asked me to do was make sure I was pregnant by the end of this so you would have to marry me!" with that she bursts out sobbing and leaves. I watch her storm outside, and grab the nearest man and shove his head into her chest. He is easily seduced and she leads him into the nearest alleyway. The waitress watches this spectacle with a smirk on her face. I now understand the evil intent in her eyes. I rounded on her.
"Why'd you do that?"
"Do what?" her face is perfectly innocent, save her pink eyes.
"You've been serving me for the past few days, and you know I'm on a blind date extravaganza. Do you even know who you're messing with?" I decide to use my famous influence in Star City on the girl. Apparently she doesn't have a thing for rich guys. She's not even fazed.
"Yep. You're Wally West. Rich kid and flirt extraordinaire." She rolls her eyes and inspects her nails.
"Hey! I resent that!"
"No, you represent that. So, what do you want to order?"
I try a new tactic, waggling my eyebrows. "How about a dish of spaghetti with a pink haired beauty on the side?"
"Don't even try that with me. I'm not interested."
Dang…shut down. Maybe it's time for the classic cute puppy-dog eyes routine. I pout adorably, shaking my head slightly to let my bangs fall into my face. No girl can resist the famous Wally West when he turns on his charm—or so I thought.
"You won't even sit down?"
"Ahem—what part of the word "working", do you not understand? Oh, wait, you've never had to work in your whole luxurious, spoilt life."
Ouch. "Don't talk about things you don't understand. My parents died, that's why I'm stuck with this whole thing." For a second I can almost swear I see a flash of pity in her eyes, but the next second it's gone, replaced by anger.
"You can't talk about things you don't understand! You think your life is hard? You have no idea what I've been through!" Her eyes are wild, filled with the pain of the past.
An uneasy tension fills the air, both of us merely glaring at each other. Finally I sigh in defeat, whispering, "Can you please just sit down? This is the bimbo I'm with next!" I pull out the photo of a girl with her lips puckered up, and with a sheer top on. "I'm desperate!"
"Oh, so now I'm just for desperate guys?" she puts her hands on her hips and right away I know I said the wrong thing.
"No, seriously. I think you're beautiful. Please sit down." I'm shocked by the amount of sincerity I can hear in my own voice. Obviously she is too. She calls to her friend.
"Tony! I'm taking five!" and sits down. Yes! One victory for the West! I don't even know why I'm celebrating. We sit there staring at each other.
Inspiration strikes me, and I reach into my bag, pulling out a beautiful red rose. It was meant for the girl I intended to date further, but I think Jen is the right person to give it to. Smiling charmingly, I hand her the rose, saying, "Beauty for beauty."
She takes it, twirling it in her fingers with confusion. She smiles at me, before whispering, "Why are you so interested in me, anyway?"
"I don't know. There's something about you that's different." I surprise myself with my answer.