FORBIDDEN FRUIT
by Crescent Dreamweaver
email: catz4dog1@aol.com
Disclaimer: I don't own Tremors: The Series. It belongs to Stampede Entertainment. I just own Anya.
Synopsis: Takes place during "Eye of the Beholder". Anya can't resist admiring Burt.
Note: One of my reviewers for EotB suggested that Burt and Anya should get together. I thought the idea was rather disturbing at first, seeing as Anya's 17 and Burt's 40-something (did you miss that part when you were reading EotB, crackhunter?), but it planted the seedling of an idea in my mind. Here is the result of that seedling.
Note #2: I originally posted this a month or so ago, and received a rather rude review from a person called Pussin Boots. Since they were a logged-in member of ff.net, I couldn't remove their review, so I removed the story, and then posted it again.
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Let the story begin!
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Anya's POV
As Burt and I drove towards his home, I couldn't help peeking at him out of the corner of my eye. Despite the fairly fast (with cautious overtones) speed that the Power Wagon was traveling, the Atlanta Hawks baseball cap he wore stayed firmly on his head, as did the dark-tinted aviator sunglasses covering his eyes.
I would have paid good money to see his eyes right then, to see their color. I guessed that they were brown; a rich, deep brown, like the brandy my dad used to drink. They were undoubtedly the kind of eyes that darkened with anger.
Or passion.
Sure, his height was intimidating, but what can you expect? He's 6'4, and I'm a measly 5'0, practically a hobbit compared to him! But he's definitely good-looking, in that way that older men sometimes are. He's no Sean Connery, but then again, Mr. Connery has a rich accent and was the original James Bond.
Burt, on the other hand, has probably never touched formal wear once in his entire life. Not even with a ten-foot pole. But that's not the point, is it? The point is that he's tall and skinny, and I've always had a thing for tall, skinny guys.
Blinking, I shook my head. Now was not the time to be developing romantic (or lustful) feelings for one of my future neighbors. Even if he *was* really tall and skinny and handsome and...
Whoa. Down, girl. You're seventeen, and Burt's 40-something. It wouldn't work between the two of you.
I swallowed hard. I might as well have been Eve in the Garden, wanting the forbidden fruit.
But this wasn't the Garden, and I wasn't Eve. I was Anya Carter, and I was strong. I wouldn't give into temptation. I wouldn't go after the forbidden fruit that was Burt Gummer. I wouldn't.
But even as I made that decision, I couldn't help but wonder: What happens when the temptation gets too great?
The End
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A/N: No flames, please.
CRACKHUNTER, I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY!!!