I Dream of Draco
Disclaimer: I don't own Draco Malfoy, Yuki Eiri, or any other names you might recognize, they are the genius of J.K. Rowling and Maki Murakami. Plot comes from my best friend and Beta1, Tiny Chelle. I own nothing except names and places.
Summary: Draco is stuck in a Smirnoff bottle for 30yrs. There's only one way out of 'What do you wish of me?' To bad he doesn't know what it is.
Pairings: Draco/Ginny (past) Draco/OC (present) Yuki Eiri (Gravitation)/OC
"Chelle, honestly there's no one else," Bobby Spazzaletti was desperately trying to get his new ex-girlfriend to leave. "I just think we should see other people."
"Bullshit!" Michelle O'Brien answered back, tears on her thick black lashes. "You don't say shit like that if you don't already have some one else in mind! So c'mon, be a man and tell me who she is."
"Chellby-"
"Don't you dare call me that! Kitty was right. You've turned into a pathetic excuse for a boyfriend and I'm not going to feel guilty-"
"Bobby, honey, I'm home." Called a female voice, followed by the sound of the door slamming and keys hitting the marble countertop.
"There's no one else?" Chelle asked, her eyebrow raised. She turned around to face none other than… "Lindsay? You're leaving me for your ex?" Bobby didn't have time to answer. Before he could even open his mouth, the temper Chelle claimed she didn't have exploded. She put all the force she could muster and slammed her fist into his lying, rat-finked face, knocking him out and onto the floor. Chelle walked past Lindsay, pausing to spit in the smaller girl's face. On her way past, she shoved the porcelain lamp off the stand and listened to it shatter, right along with her heart.
"That no good lying son-of-a-bitching whore!" Kitrina Greer exclaimed, displaying the temper that she didn't bother to hide. Kitty, to her friends only, was fiercely protective and extremely violent. She only had two vices, aside from violence, and she indulged in them as often as she could: anime and alcohol. At 5'5" and barely 150lbs, more people where afraid of Kitrina, than the rest of the jocks combined. "We should kill them both!"
"Kitty, no! I don't want anything more to do with that asshole! I should've listened to you. We should do something fun tonight, just the two of us. Your choice." Kitty raised her eyebrows.
"Anything?"
"We're not going to the strip club, but other than that, anything." Kitty let out a whoop. "Why do I think I just got my self into a lot of trouble?"
"Because you did. C'mon get dressed, something black, sexy, revealing, and decadent!"
"I don't think I have anything to fit that description in my closet."
"Than borrow something from mine. And don't you dare say, 'It'll be too short,' because if it's not short, its not decadent!"
"Yes, Mother…OW! That hurt!" Chelle said, rubbing her ass where Kitty had just cracked it.
"That's what ya get for being a smart ass! Let's go."
At 9 o'clock Michelle and Kitty were seated at a bar, in between to of the hotties from the University's baseball team. All conversation was light and flirty, pretty much revolving around sex, and other such wonderful topics. By midnight the girls, in their matching short skirts, black leather of course, and leopard print halter tops were trying desperately to maintain their perches on the bar stools. It's amazing that after only 3 hours of drinking and flirting, plus two hot jocks dance attending on her, that Chelle had just about forgotten about Bobby…or whatever that asshole's name was.
Until the scumbag walked in the door, with Lindsay on his arm. Then, she just felt like puking.
"Wow," Derek said, dropping his arm from Chelle's shoulders. "Who's the hottie?"
"Lindsay," Kitty said, crushing a handful of peanuts. "Fucking whore!"
"Not her. HIM!" he said, pointing to Bobby.
"That's my ex," Chelle said downing a double shots of SoCo and gesturing for another, which she got right away. "Bobby." Before she could consume her next shot, Kitty took it and drank it down.
"Okay, honey, it's time for us to go. Jeremy!" She called to the bartender. "Give us to 6-packs of Ice to go." Kitty gave him enough for the drinks and a decent tip and started to walk out. On her way past, Kitty slapped Derek up along side the head. "What the hell's the matter with you? Ya couldn't just keep your big, fat, faggot mouth shut, could you?"
"C'mon Kitty. How was I supposed to know that he was her ex? I'm no mind reader."
"Neither am I, you asshole, but I can still tell when someone needs to feel wanted! And you still owe me! C'mon Chelbs, let's go!"
"Is he gay?" she asked, on the way out.
"Derek? Yeah, he's a flamer."
"Oh, God. Why me? I've been a good Catholic, haven't I?"
"Yes, Chelle, the best."
"I always go to confession, Mass twice a week. Is this punishment for sins I've yet to commit?" Kitty knew better to interrupt, so she let her best friend's tirade run its course and just walked quietly contemplating the double homicide of bobby and Lindsay, wondering who she could get to do it.
In no time at all, they were at Chelle's apartment. She fumbled with her keys for what seemed like an hour, before giving them over to Kitty, who had the door unlocked and open in seconds. She ushered her severely inebriated best friend through her front door. After closing the door and relocking it, Kitty gently pushed Chelle into her bedroom.
"Ok, babe, let's get you outta my clothes." By the time she was stripped down to her panties and a hastily applied bra, Chelle was in the bathroom, paying homage to the Goddess of Porcelain. Isn't it amazing how good alcohol feels and tastes going down and how incredibly nauseating it is just watching someone else bring it back up? Both of the girls lost track of time, but soon after the vomiting started, it stopped. Which gave them ample amounts of time for Chelle to brush her teeth and hair and drink a lot of water.
"Ok, Toots." Kitty said, after tucking Chelle in. "I'm heading home. Call me if you need anything." She smiled and walked away, knowing that in the morning…well, late afternoon or whenever she woke up, Chelle was going to have one hell of a headache.