A/N: Because I should be working on numerous term papers and studying for finals, I decided to drink beer and write fanfiction. Because poor decisions are really the cornerstones of life. The title comes from my creative writing professor, who is constantly reminding us to never use "expository dialogue."
Warnings: Femslash, alcohol, language, OOC Kitty, OOC Marley, expository dialogue, metatextuality and a general snarky attitude.
Your Dialogue is Expository
"You're fat," Kitty states bluntly.
Marley looks at her, a tad concerned. Apparently her newly appointed arch-nemesis is not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree. Internally laughing at her seasonal joke, Marley counters, "I'm clearly not." Oh yeah, Marley, you are rocking this conversation, the brunette tells herself.
"Well, your mom's fat." The cheerleader takes another shot at delivering a blow of razor-sharp wit.
"This is true," Marley concedes, "And props, Kitty, for making a 'your mom' joke while simultaneously referencing one of my few known character traits. I didn't think you had it in you." She pauses, a smile forming on her lips, "Though I guess I shouldn't be surprised; you've had practically everything else in you, after all." Winking at the blonde, she continues, "Ouch, apply cold water…to the burn!"
"You also happen to be named after a dog," Kitty points out, her eyes going a bit crossed from all the mental effort that she has to put into coming up with this insult.
"Jesus Christ, Kitty," Marley giggles, "Your name is quite literally a synonym for the word 'cat.' Hmm, do you think there's some sort of implication going on here?"
"What?" Kitty asks dully.
"Don't think too hard about it, sweetie," Marley advises, "You might rupture something." She blows the other girl (wouldn't it be funny if the sentence stopped here?) a kiss and strides away, giving Kitty a two-fingered salute as she does so.
Kitty is left alone. She doesn't know what it is, but there's something about the other girl that gives her the feels. The feely feels that feel…feely. Could they be…sexy feels? No! Impossible! Kitty is straight! And Christian! Kitty is a straight Christian! Yes, she must just be hating Marley extra hard today. That's what these feels are; they're hatred feels! (Not sexy feels at all.)
Kitty doesn't approach Marley again until after Glee practice. The group has just finished rehearsing a song by the band "fun." (off the album Aim and Ignite this timebecause Some Nights is just sooo mainstream), when the blonde prances up to the brunette and yet another war of wits begins.
"Hello, you fat son of a bitch," Kitty addresses the other girl, "Get it?"
"Yes, Kitty, I believe I do. You seem to have managed to reiterate the 'fat,' 'dog,' and 'your mom,' insults from earlier, while bringing my gender into question, just for a hint of new comedic flavor. Very good! I think you deserve a treat for that one!" She leans down and kisses the other girl on the cheek.
Those gosh-damn feels are back, thinks Kitty (being a Christian, she never takes the Lord's name in vain). Those anti-sexy, hatred feels! She continues, "My parents are in Europe tonight. Being rich, they can do that whenever they choose. Isn't that convenient? Because I am uncultured and currently failing geography, I cannot quite say where in Europe, but if I had to guess, I would probably assume Paris or London. They are shopping and/or on business. Perhaps they are attending a social function. Who can say? The point I am trying to make here is that I have the house to myself tonight. Normally I would ask you if you would like to come over and drink with me, but, because I am a bitch and have no manners due to my poor, neglected upbringing, I am demanding it of you: you will come over tonight and we will be drinking. Let me clarify, we will be drinking alcohol. Despite the fact that I am a Christian, it is ironically you who is the repressed one, and thus you may not have known what I meant by 'drinking.'" Impressively, she rattles off the plot device in a single breath.
"Drinking? On a Monday night? Wow, Kitty, that is pretty badass and probably not at all a contributing factor to your 'F' in geography." Marley gives herself a mental high-five. She is on fire today! Just like that Alicia Keys song. Being a singer, she has to know music.
"Yes, you fat person, drinking on a Monday night. Wow, you really are as stupid as that dog that you're named after," Kitty recites the insult as if it was scripted by a writer who has long since given up on all her hopes and dreams.
"Again, honey, you are aware of the fact that name possesses the same denotation as the word 'cat,' aren't you? Anyway, can I invite Wade?"
"No. Because I am narrow-minded and cruel, I refuse to recognize his gender identity as female and this is a 'girls only' event, bitch!" She slams her locker.
"Really?" asks Marley, "You're going to insult her gender identity? This is the 21st century, after all. Why don't you come up with something new and edgy?" She snaps her fingers, "I've got it! Why don't you insult her race? Because that's never been done before." Before she leaves, she pats Kitty sympathetically on the head.
Kitty watches as Marley's retreating figure gives her a two-fingered salute. It gives Kitty the feels.
At eight o'clock that evening, Marley's mom pulls up to the Wilde's driveway in their family's (no doubt) dilapidated vehicle. She looks a little confused and Marley can't really blame her. Kitty's house appears to be a life-size replica of the Taj Mahal. Several peacocks stride about in the front yard, and out back a giraffe appears to be munching on a bush shaped as Mitt Romney (Marley mentally applauds Kitty's family for the topical reference).
"Maybe the property value is cheaper because it's located in Lima, Ohio…" Marley muses to herself. She's not envious, per se, but she is impressed. Perhaps fucking Kitty will have more benefits than just good, well…kitty.
"Marley," Mrs. Rose begins, still staring at the mansion (palace?) "I know that I'll never be able to provide for you like this…"
"Maybe you could if you used your expert kitchen skills to cook meth instead of lunchmeat. This is the Midwest, after all…"
"Hush, child, let me finish." Marley's mom blandly stampedes over her words and Marley begins to wonder if there's something in the water in this town, "As I was saying, I may never be able to give you a nice house, or a nice bedroom, or nice clothes, or a nice car, or a nice college education, or…"
[15 minutes later]
"Or a nice bush shaped like a Republican politician – or any politician for that matter – but you've got something more valuable than that. You know that, right darling? You've got heart."
"Breaking news, mom: we all have hearts. Learned that little tidbit today in AP Anatomy." Marley points out, wondering if she should have taken AP Chem instead. Someone's gotta run the meth business in this town, after all…
"What I mean to say, Marley, is that you're a good kid. Nah, you're a great kid. And while this Kitty girl might be rich, she's got nothing on you."
"No, but she might be on me later."
"Now, there's going to be no drinking tonight, right?"
"I told you, mom, we're working on a Science or Geography or Glee project tonight. Purely academic," Marley lies. She hates lying to her mom, the sweetheart, but she really wants Kitty to like her. Oh, who is she kidding? She wants to get wasted on cheap liquor and have a night not worth remembering.
"That's what a mom wants to here!"
"It's 'hear,' mom, you know, with an 'a.'"
"Now, have a good time and call me when you need a ride home." She kisses her daughter on the cheek.
"Will do, mom." Marley jumps out of the car, giving her mother a two-fingered salute as she makes her way up the walkway.
The doorbell chimes to the tune of Chopin's Nocturne in G minor (Op. 37 No. 1).
Kitty answers the door after an unreasonable amount of time, "Come in, bitch!" [Optional Obligatory Character Description (Has No Bearing on the Plot): She is wearing a tight white shirt with the legend 'The Cat Has Claws!' written across the across the chest in hot pink, a short pink skirt, fishnets, and pink heels. I guess we all know who the "femme" is here.]
"Gladly," Marley smiles at her own sexual innuendo. She has to entertain herself somehow. She follows Kitty through the labyrinth that is her house (which includes the ascension of several flights of stairs and ducking through what many might consider a hidden passageway) and into the other girl's bedroom. Unsurprisingly, the walls are painted pink and a pink carpet adorns the floor. The comforter on the bed, however, is blue. Kitty points to it, "Blue's my favorite color," she explains.
Marley cocks an eyebrow at her, "Really, are you sure?"
"What's yours?"
"Beige," Marley lies. It's kinda fun. She considers being a pathological liar for a bit. Might be a decent character trait to acquire if she's going to follow the "meth lab" career path. Sometimes her own awesomeness hurts her.
"I feel like we're starting to really get to know each other!" A flash of hope crosses the other girl's face, but she suppresses it, "I mean, you're fat!"
Marley ignores the comment, "Where are the rest of your compadres?" She wanders over to Kitty's bed and sits down on the edge of it.
"My what?"
"Your friends," Marley clarifies and when Kitty still looks confused she explains, "The Cheerios?"
"Oh, them," Kitty looks worried. She begins to chew on the corner of her thumbnail and Marley finds it oddly compelling. She's always had a thing for fidgety chicks. "Well, this may surprise you, you fat dog person, but I really don't have many of those. You see, because I am a bitch, and thus rather unfriendly, most people don't seek out my company despite the fact that I am mean and frightening. In fact, you are one of the few people that I speak to on a daily basis for longer than a nanosecond. That is why I invited you hear tonight."
"Oh, honey, it's 'here,' like with an 'e.' Anyhow, where's the booze?"
"The what?"
"The alky, the canned heat, the firewater, the hard stuff, the hootch, the liquor, the moonshine, the rot gut, the sauce, the toddy…Kitty, where's the alcohol?"
"Oh that, hold on I'll go get it. I have to steal it from my father's study, but he won't notice as he's an inattentive parent." She exits the room with a blink and a four-fingered salute.
"Oh, almost, sugar-plumb," Marley calls after her. Once Kitty leaves, Marley strides over to her mirror and examines herself, her moist, rainwater-blue-with-just-a hint-of-hardened-steel eyes staring back. [Optional Obligatory Character Description (Has No Bearing on the Plot): She is wearing a tight gray shirt, a leather jacket, dark blue skinny jeans skirt, and black combat boots. I guess we all know who the butch is here.] Hearing Kitty's heels clack up the wooden stairs, she hastily returns to her sitting position on the edge of bed.
Kitty enters holding a couple of shot glasses and a bottle of Jack. Now we're talking. Crossing the room, the blonde sits down next to the brunette. Yeah, we're totally gonna do it, Marley thinks.
"Being repressed, I'm not sure if you know what this is," Kitty states dully, waving the bottle of brown liquid in Marley's face, "This is alcohol and we will proceed to consume it out of these shot glasses." She hands one of the glasses to Marley. It has the word "Meow!" written on it in hot pink.
"Classy," remarks Marley.
Kitty measures out two shots of the fluid and Marley raises hers, ready to toss it back, but Kitty stops her, placing a soft hand on Marley's long fingers. Feels (of hate!) shoot through Kitty at the contact and for a moment she forgets how to breathe. The two events could be unrelated. "Wait," says Kitty, "We have to toast to something."
"To what?"
Kitty thinks for a moment, and then says in, what she hopes, is a devious tone, "To friendship!"
Marley rolls her eyes, "Kitty, I swear to God, you're such a pussy." She mentally laughs at her own pun, clinks her glass against the other girl's (oh baby), and downs the shot. The alcohol burns her tongue and the back of her throat as it trickles down to her stomach, settling in a warm pool. It hurts so good.
"Oh. My. God. I am so drunk!" Kitty half-coughs, half-squeaks.
"Are you really?" Marley asks, dubious. She had expected Kitty to be a lightweight, but this is ridiculous.
"Yes!" Kitty practically screams, "And now you have to tell me a secret!" Her face moves closer to the other girl's and she pokes her in the nose with her finger as she speaks. Smooth, thinks Marley.
"Um, I spend most of my time kicking ass and taking names," responds the brunette, removing the Jack from Kitty's grasp as she does so. She brings the smooth rim of the bottle to her lips and tilts the fluid into her mouth. The hot liquid contrasts nicely with the cool glass and Marley thinks that it's been far too long since she's done this.
"Oh. My. God. You are so funny!" Kitty screeches, "Now I have to tell you one."
"Drink some of this first," Marley advises, passing her the bottle. Kitty complies.
"Okay, I've got one," Kitty slurs after taking a sizable gulp and passing the bottle back to the other girl. Her tone grows serious and she's states softly, "My parents don't love me."
"Oh no, Kitty, say it ain't so," Marley replies, taking another swig from the bottle.
"Yeah," the blonde goes on in that same quiet tone, "They ignore me and they fight all the time. You may think life is easy for someone like me, being rich and all, but it's not true. If these walls could talk, oh what secrets they would tell." She nods sagely.
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that. You've never even hinted at that before." The brunette leans in closer, looking attentive. The alcohol has finally started to buzz in her brain and she takes another sip to egg it on.
"Well, I try to keep it in, but it doesn't always work. That's probably what makes me so bitchy. It's a defense mechanism," her voice has dropped another octave and she reaches for the whiskey bottle. Her fingers land on Marley's hand instead of the glass and she leaves them there, blood and alcohol pounding furiously through her veins and into the flesh of her palm. Those hatred feels are going at it particularly strong tonight.
Marley glances up and her rainwater-blue-with-just-a hint-of-hardened-steel eyes meet Kitty's boring-hazel ones. About time, she thinks as she leans in. Closing the distance between them, she firmly kisses the other girl. Her lips are always the first to go numb when she's been drinking. She's not sure if she'd be able to feel the kiss anyway.
For a moment, Kitty kisses her back as if this is the only thing that she's ever wanted in her life (and that's just a bucketful of daddy issues waiting to happen), but then she pulls away, "Gross! I'm not gay! I'm straight! And a Christian! I'm a straight Christian and you're a gross lesbian!"
Marley laughs, leaning back and extracting a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the left pocket of her jacket. Lighting one, she takes a drag before responding, "Oh, honey, don't kid yourself."
"What do you mean?" Kitty asks, wide-eyed and confused. She's a sweet girl, Marley thinks, but a simple soul.
"Seriously, Kitty? You spent an entire episode waving your fingers at me. You know what lesbians do with their fingers, right? I mean, you must – you have a Tumblr after all."
Marley thinks the look of realization dawning in someone's eyes must be one of the prettiest sights in the world. "I guess, then, I guess I'm not straight," Kitty declares.
"No, sweetie-pie, I guess you're not," Marley gives the other girl a sad sort of smile before continuing, "And for the record, I'm not gay either; I just do what I want, bitch." She crushes the cigarette out in the shot glass on Kitty's nightstand before kissing the blonde again.
To make matters brief, they fuck. They fuck long and they fuck hard. Clothes are removed, touches are given, and uncomfortably sexual noises are made. Climaxes come and go. Sweat is involved and so, I would imagine, are other bodily fluids. I would give you a longer description of the event, but I know that you clicked onto this story for the riveting plot and engaging dialogue, so I don't want to bore you with the base, animalistic goings-on of man (or, in this case, woman).
"That was fantastic," Kitty exclaims breathlessly once it is all over, her slightly glazed-over eyes following the smooth curvature of Marley's collarbone.
"If you say so," the other girl responds. It's not only the alcohol that makes her numb these days.
Kitty looks at her intently, placing her palm on the other girl's shoulder, "I think, I think I might be in love with you," she says softly.
"Uh-huh," Marley stands up, and begins to extract her clothes from various corners of the room (her shirt has somehow ended up on top of the ceiling fan).
"I mean it; I've never felt this way before. Not about Jake or anyone!"
"I'm so happy for you, baby doll. Turns out, you're queer as fuck. Who knew?" Fully dressed now, she reapplies her lipstick in the mirror before grabbing Kitty's copy of Aim and Ignite off her bookshelf, "I'm borrowing this, k?"
"Yeah, anything. Marley, and I mean this, thank you so much for tonight."
"No problemo," Marley responds. She tosses her leather jacket over her shoulder and grabs the bottle of Jack. "See ya around, sweetie-pie," she states offhandedly without looking at the blonde. She gives the other girl a two-fingered salute as she walks away.
At this point, Brittana proceeds to mount a sparkling pega-corn with a rainbow-mane and fly off into the sunset. Everyone cheers.
Fin(n).
(I just needed one last Glee reference.)