Title: A Toll Booth Tale
Author: Lilith Knight
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. I'm poor. Don't sue.
Summary: What DID the guy at the poll booth think? This is a short, one-shot from the POV of the "toll booth guy."
Rating: PG-13 for a little swearing. Just a little though. :)
Spoilers: "Walk on the Wild Side"... inspired by Tabby's comment
Feedback: Yes, please. *hopeful smile*
Comments: Girls rule!!! Yeah! Hehe.
Dedication: To Disturbed Courtney, my partner in crime who demanded so politely that I write this NOW when I mentioned the idea over AIM.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now, in my line of work you see some strange things. Everyone has to pay tolls, and so I get to see some of the weirdest people society has ever spawned. I've seen people dressed in leather and carrying swords, looking like they've stepped straight out of one of those fantasy novels my wife likes to read, and I've seen people with so many piercings that they would have short circuited a metal detector just walking by it. Then there are your bankers, your lawyers, and your star athletes in their overly priced sports cars. They all come by here.
There are times when it's so painfully boring I feel like driving an ice pike through my head just to stop the misery. Unfortunately there are bills to pay and money doesn't grow on trees. If I want stay in college (and God knows I don't want to be doing THIS for the rest of my life) then I have to keep showing up here. Hey, it's better than flipping burgers.
So there I was, on the night shift, reading a comic book I'd picked up on the way here to try and keep my sanity, when this jeep pulled up. Now jeeps aren't, by any means, uncommon. Neither are teenage girls, which is what this particular green jeep was filled with.
However, I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen a bunch of girls half naked, let alone in a vehicle stopping at the toll booth. I'm pretty sure my mouth dropped open and my eyes bulged like any number of Saturday morning cartoon characters. I may be happily married but I've been known to look on occasion, much to my wife's displeasure. She knows I'd never ever follow through but she has a jealous streak that's left me sleeping on the couch more often than I'd like to think about.
So, anyway, these gorgeous teenage girls are stripping in the jeep right in front of me and I'm standing there, gaping like the idiot I knew I looked like. What? It's practically every guy's fantasy. You'd be staring too if you were me, which you aren't, so it doesn't matter. And I had this nagging feeling those girls seemed familiar somehow.
Back to my story. There was a blond driving. She was pretty, dressed like she loved attention, teal arm guards with long, purple fingerless gloves underneath and a sleeveless top made out of some kind of black shiny material. There was a knockout redhead sitting in the passenger side seat, shimmying into a pair of pants made out of something similar. I could see her panties, green, some satiny material. Oh, yeah, she was hot.
In the back there were three more girls. One looked sort of Latin, with bronze skin, and brown hair and eyes. The one in the middle was what I think they call "goth" with that white skin only people who never see the sun ever have, green eyes, and short, wine-red hair, with a white streak down the middle. I never did understand that. Why on earth do these kids think that dyeing their hair in unnatural colors looks good? I have to admit though, she managed to pull it off. The last one was just your typical girl-next-door type, light brown hair, blue eyes, and light skin.
The Latin chick was pulling off a long-sleeved white shirt, showing a bra the same color underneath. Damn. Too bad she was wearing one. Still showed a nice amount of skin though. The girl-next-door was pulling off her jeans. Blue undies. Nice legs, not as nice as the redhead's but then I have a weakness for redheads. I even married one. She has that legendary temper too- Oh, sorry. Where was I? Right.
The goth chick starts pulling off her green mesh shirt and both the Latin chick and the girl-next-door start trying to put as much distance as possible between them.
"Roooogue!" the girl-next-door whined. "Like, hello? Deadly skin?" Rogue? What kind of a name is Rogue? Man, and I thought my wife wanting to name our first son Talon was odd. Maybe it was a nickname. What? Deadly skin? How the hell should I know what she meant?
"Oh, chill out, Kitty!" Rogue responded, rolling her eyes, and pulling on a green tank top on, in the process bumping the Latin chick with her elbow. They both jerked apart like they'd been burned. "Oops. Sorry Amara."
Amara shuddered. "That. Was. Freaky."
"It totally is," Kitty agreed. The goth girl glared at them both.
Then the blond noticed me watching. My first thought was "Uh-oh" or something along those lines.
"Hey, girls... Looks like we have an audience." Four heads snapped up in unison.
"Enjoying the show?" the redhead asked with an arched eyebrow and the completely neutral tone I knew from experience practically screamed "DANGER!!!" to any guy with a brain cell.
"Uh..." was my well-thought out response, still wondering why I couldn't shake the feeling I'd seen them before.
"Hey, Jean, let's leave him a little reminder that gentlemen do not stare," the blond laughed. Then she blew this little glowing ball that appeared out of thin air in the palm of her hand at me.
"Go, Tabitha!" the other girls in the back cheered. Then they drove straight through the gate guard. A second later that little glowing ball exploded. Yeah, you heard me. It exploded. I heard them yell, "You don't mess with the Sirens!" as they accelerated. That's why they looked so familiar. It was from those sketchy news pictures where you can't quite make out what they look like. What do you MEAN you don't believe me?! The Sirens were right THERE, not five feet away from me. They were! What? You think I made this up? How do you think the booth got that way? Aw, kiss my ass. See if I ever tell you anything again.
FIN
Author: Lilith Knight
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. I'm poor. Don't sue.
Summary: What DID the guy at the poll booth think? This is a short, one-shot from the POV of the "toll booth guy."
Rating: PG-13 for a little swearing. Just a little though. :)
Spoilers: "Walk on the Wild Side"... inspired by Tabby's comment
Feedback: Yes, please. *hopeful smile*
Comments: Girls rule!!! Yeah! Hehe.
Dedication: To Disturbed Courtney, my partner in crime who demanded so politely that I write this NOW when I mentioned the idea over AIM.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now, in my line of work you see some strange things. Everyone has to pay tolls, and so I get to see some of the weirdest people society has ever spawned. I've seen people dressed in leather and carrying swords, looking like they've stepped straight out of one of those fantasy novels my wife likes to read, and I've seen people with so many piercings that they would have short circuited a metal detector just walking by it. Then there are your bankers, your lawyers, and your star athletes in their overly priced sports cars. They all come by here.
There are times when it's so painfully boring I feel like driving an ice pike through my head just to stop the misery. Unfortunately there are bills to pay and money doesn't grow on trees. If I want stay in college (and God knows I don't want to be doing THIS for the rest of my life) then I have to keep showing up here. Hey, it's better than flipping burgers.
So there I was, on the night shift, reading a comic book I'd picked up on the way here to try and keep my sanity, when this jeep pulled up. Now jeeps aren't, by any means, uncommon. Neither are teenage girls, which is what this particular green jeep was filled with.
However, I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen a bunch of girls half naked, let alone in a vehicle stopping at the toll booth. I'm pretty sure my mouth dropped open and my eyes bulged like any number of Saturday morning cartoon characters. I may be happily married but I've been known to look on occasion, much to my wife's displeasure. She knows I'd never ever follow through but she has a jealous streak that's left me sleeping on the couch more often than I'd like to think about.
So, anyway, these gorgeous teenage girls are stripping in the jeep right in front of me and I'm standing there, gaping like the idiot I knew I looked like. What? It's practically every guy's fantasy. You'd be staring too if you were me, which you aren't, so it doesn't matter. And I had this nagging feeling those girls seemed familiar somehow.
Back to my story. There was a blond driving. She was pretty, dressed like she loved attention, teal arm guards with long, purple fingerless gloves underneath and a sleeveless top made out of some kind of black shiny material. There was a knockout redhead sitting in the passenger side seat, shimmying into a pair of pants made out of something similar. I could see her panties, green, some satiny material. Oh, yeah, she was hot.
In the back there were three more girls. One looked sort of Latin, with bronze skin, and brown hair and eyes. The one in the middle was what I think they call "goth" with that white skin only people who never see the sun ever have, green eyes, and short, wine-red hair, with a white streak down the middle. I never did understand that. Why on earth do these kids think that dyeing their hair in unnatural colors looks good? I have to admit though, she managed to pull it off. The last one was just your typical girl-next-door type, light brown hair, blue eyes, and light skin.
The Latin chick was pulling off a long-sleeved white shirt, showing a bra the same color underneath. Damn. Too bad she was wearing one. Still showed a nice amount of skin though. The girl-next-door was pulling off her jeans. Blue undies. Nice legs, not as nice as the redhead's but then I have a weakness for redheads. I even married one. She has that legendary temper too- Oh, sorry. Where was I? Right.
The goth chick starts pulling off her green mesh shirt and both the Latin chick and the girl-next-door start trying to put as much distance as possible between them.
"Roooogue!" the girl-next-door whined. "Like, hello? Deadly skin?" Rogue? What kind of a name is Rogue? Man, and I thought my wife wanting to name our first son Talon was odd. Maybe it was a nickname. What? Deadly skin? How the hell should I know what she meant?
"Oh, chill out, Kitty!" Rogue responded, rolling her eyes, and pulling on a green tank top on, in the process bumping the Latin chick with her elbow. They both jerked apart like they'd been burned. "Oops. Sorry Amara."
Amara shuddered. "That. Was. Freaky."
"It totally is," Kitty agreed. The goth girl glared at them both.
Then the blond noticed me watching. My first thought was "Uh-oh" or something along those lines.
"Hey, girls... Looks like we have an audience." Four heads snapped up in unison.
"Enjoying the show?" the redhead asked with an arched eyebrow and the completely neutral tone I knew from experience practically screamed "DANGER!!!" to any guy with a brain cell.
"Uh..." was my well-thought out response, still wondering why I couldn't shake the feeling I'd seen them before.
"Hey, Jean, let's leave him a little reminder that gentlemen do not stare," the blond laughed. Then she blew this little glowing ball that appeared out of thin air in the palm of her hand at me.
"Go, Tabitha!" the other girls in the back cheered. Then they drove straight through the gate guard. A second later that little glowing ball exploded. Yeah, you heard me. It exploded. I heard them yell, "You don't mess with the Sirens!" as they accelerated. That's why they looked so familiar. It was from those sketchy news pictures where you can't quite make out what they look like. What do you MEAN you don't believe me?! The Sirens were right THERE, not five feet away from me. They were! What? You think I made this up? How do you think the booth got that way? Aw, kiss my ass. See if I ever tell you anything again.
FIN