Inspired by Gretchen Wilson's "Redneck Woman". AU.
Prompt was: AmericaxFem!America, cutesy fluff
Rated K+ for mild and random swearing
Coming Home
"Hey, good lookin'." Blue eyes gazed straight at her. Small fine lines were around them, indicating a man who had been out in the sun a lot, and had tendencies to smile.
"Hey, yourself," she shot back, sassy. She wasn't takin' anything or sellin' nothing to men anymore that couldn't hold themselves up.
Blinding white teeth filled the smile that flashed at her. "Where can a guy get a drink 'round here?"
"Walll," she drawled out, playing this game, "Whatcha want?"
"Hmm…" He winked. "Whisky, straight."
"Sure." She poured the shot and set it on the bar, sliding it to him.
Strong fingers grabbed the glass. Downed it in one shot. She watched the strong throat swallow the brown fluid, and clutching the whiskey bottle still, she said automatically, "Want anoth—"
"Hey Amie… Go on break, 'kay." The Hispanic man from the kitchen called towards the bar, cutting her off.
She grinned at him, full of sauce. "Sorry," she shrugged, "Gotta go. What José says, José gets…it's his bar."
Those cerulean blue eyes, like the ocean she dreamt of seeing one day, just watched as she left, the smile lessening as her busty topped, short daisy dukes, flyaway blonde hair walks away from him. She left a soft air conditioned breeze in her wake contrasting with the heat seeping in from outside.
He found her later outside the bar, around 2 am, tired, kicking some old guy's ass. "Horatio, I said git! That means git! No, you don't really love me…"
"But I love you, Amy girl…"
"You only love the booze I serve. Git, you…. Or I'll call your wife!" She waggled a broken nail at him with her last threat.
"Ah…Amy girl. You a mean girl."
She grabbed a fistful of her blond locks and pushed them backwards away from her face. The heat made her wavy hair frizzy and unbearable. "Yes, I'm a mean old coot. Now git."
The man shuffled off. "See you tomorrow…"
"Yes, yes," she said, annoyed. She slung her old army jacket over her shoulder. Loosened her buttoned shirt's high tied top, and retied it more towards her navel, buttoned up a few buttons, when he finally made his presence known.
"Aie!" She gave a little screech. "Don't sneak up on me."
He raised his hands in acquiescence. "Sorry. Thought I would let you take that one on yourself."
"It's an every night occurrence around here."
The neon light across the street gave a faint buzz, and flickered, suddenly turning on.
"You going to get away from here anytime soon?" He questioned. His hair seemed to relish the heat, the cowlick fluttered in the warm night air.
"Not all of us get that chance," she smarted at him. Her head hurt, and all her bones were so weary all she wanted was to go to bed. "What you want?" Her curiosity perked. Not all men that lingered to ask her out were bad.
"Wanna go somewhere tomorrow?"
Okay. Maybe not. "Where?" She narrowed her own blue eyes at him.
"It's a secret."
"Wall, that's goin' to be a big fat, 'no.'" She made the quotation marks in the air.
"Well, Amelia, I could say I love you."
That phrase shut her up, and made red blooms appeared on the apples of her cheeks. "You're lying." She accused. "I'm leaving."
"Not to your Dad's?" There was genuine worry in that question.
"No." She paused, "I left that old bastard years ago."
A sigh of relief, those very kissable lips smirking again, glasses hiding the eyes in shadows. "Come on out tomorrow. You can follow me in your truck."
"Fine. Gotta be before noon."
"Ok."
"Ok."
They stared at each other in standoff.
"Tomorrow then."
Amelia shifted into fourth, her beautiful Betty of a truck following his own down the paved road. Days like these with blue skies and a good drive made her heart beat faster. She loved her pick-up truck. Not every girl could say she had a beautiful turquoise blue pick-up truck, reminiscent of the color popular in the '50s. The man selling it had treated it like D'Artagnan's yellow horse, and with one glance she fell in love. Such a good price for a better than good pick-up truck.
He pulled into a farm, and she followed suit. Dust bellowed around her, and she rolled up the windows. Gretchen was singing, "Red-neck Woman," and she started singing along again after the dust was replaced with heat from the closed up cab.
Brakes went on as he turned onto the farmhouse's drive, and she parked parallel to him. He got out of his shiny red truck, so polished and car washed, like the citified boy he'd become. They were at the Peterson's and he was now talking to them so she reckoned that everything was fine and safe. She popped open her door, and got down from her high perch.
He smiled that white toothed grin at her, and she just shrugged, pulling her coat tighter around her despite of the heat. He was wearing his own today.
"Ok," he said, they were on top of a little hill that led down toward a barn. "Close your eyes."
She just stared at him in disbelief. "Hell no!"
"Amy, just close your eyes. It's a surprise."
She gritted her teeth. This was as bad as that foreign exchange student who was all British and charming until she had closed her eyes at his request. That only ended with her being felt up and French kissed.
"Fine," she snapped. She felt his large hand take her own, calluses meeting calluses, and she reckoned he wasn't as citified as she thought. He led her carefully down the hill. She felt something brush her boot.
"Hey…" she said trying to not kick out.
"You can open your eyes now…"
The thing that she had brushed against was nuzzled up against her finest red cowboy boots was a small black bunny. Surrounding them, there were rabbits. Rabbits everywhere. Fluffy, black, white, long eared, short eared.
"Bunnies!" she yelled joyfully, which caused a bunny stampede away from her.
He was just laughing, a bunny in his muscular arm, a bunny held by the other hand on top of his head. He belt down as more came up to him. She knelt down to hold out her hand. Many of the rabbits came up to sniff.
She cradled one, a fuzzy white one, who was perfectly content to be cuddled.
They stayed like that for a while. Surrounded by rabbits, and holding their favorites. The barn was framed by the blue of deep summer, and the fields went on for miles away. She could just lay out here forever. Her and the bunnies. No cares. But, there was a problem to address. She couldn't label him a stranger forever…
"Why'd you leave Alfred F. Jones?" she asked finally, "And why'd you come back?"
She turned to see his tan face looking pensive as he scratched the ears of a grey rabbit on the ground. The nose of the rabbit twitched and its eyes closed slightly at the ministrations, "Well, I thought it would be better out there…"
"Fancy Alfred F. Jones? The star of the football team? The main bully of the high school halls? Are you kidding? Everyone ate out of your hand." She mocked.
He grimaced.
She went for the sucker-punch. "You even let your brother get bullied."
He looked at her in shock. "What? Mattie was bullied?"
"Like fuck he would let you know. He had his pride." Amelia thought of the other brother who had booked it out of this town as fast as he could. Hoping he was happy on the east coast of Canada…far away from the people who made his life hell.
"I figured out that I wasn't the best person I thought I was." Alfred look repentant, sorta hurt, as if he had realized it late at night when he was all alone and life was falling around him. She knew how that was.
Amelia just felt like crying now. "Please don't try to explain it…"
He didn't stop. "I dunno. I got out there, and realized that everything I was afraid of doing was a mistake. Like you. I really like you, Amy. I was always too afraid to talk to you in front of everyone cuz of my friends, and all I could think of when I was away from here was you. I always wanted to beat the shit out of your Dad but I didn't cuz that would mean I would have to go to your neighborhood."
"You mean the trailer park," she snapped. Her bunny shivered and ears tucked back. She didn't want to hear this. God, she didn't. But her bruised heart said, "you dreamt of this moment happening for years".
"So I was a bastard," Alfred just murmured as he looked at her. She didn't want to look into those repentant eyes. "I got my college degree."
"Whoopy-dee-doo for you." She still didn't look and hated the fact she had warm tears running down her face.
"But I can't find a job. So I work construction. Saved up enough money, and thought I would come back to apologize to you."
"Poor Amelia…left behind in this po-dunk little town. That high school sweetheart…oh no, I mean…slut, with her mean ol' Dad that smacked her around." She couldn't help the sarcasm and meanness that left her lips.
"Best night of my life." Alfred grinned at her.
Amelia eyes blazed inferno.
She let go of her bunnies, and pulled his out of his arms. He looked confused until she smacked him right then and there. She just kept on punching. She couldn't help it; it was like some sort of beast was released. He didn't stop her; he just let her keep on.
"hateyouhateyouhateyou…" She realized she was saying over and over again. After a while with tears flowing down her eyes, she had no more strength or interest to continue her abuse, as it made her think of her dad, she just hung her head and held it down like that. Her hands holding her head down to her still folded knees. Tried to take deep breaths as she realized that now Alfred F. Jones could think her just as bad as the place she came from.
He just stood up and pulled her into a hug. "Unforgivable, huh?" he murmured, the glasses that had come with older age, bumped against her hair, snarling in it. He felt her sobbing into his chest. "I am sorry, you know. I don't know what else to do."
She pulled back, and instantly regretted it. "Ow!" They both exclaimed. Alfred's glasses were tangled in her hair.
"By the way," he said, "I never called you a slut." His eyes held a sweetness that Amelia did not want to see.
"I know, but your posse of girls did. They hated me." Presently they were all knocked up and in their own mommy clique, so nothing had changed, except all their husbands, previous high school football players came into the bar and found it acceptable to flirt with her now.
"Let me do this." He smacked her hands away. Leaning real close to her, he started picking the hair out of the wire frames.
"I liked you a lot, too."
She could feel his grin. Didn't even need to see it, but just felt it.
"Just mebbe…if you stay around," she stubbornly said.
"Yeah." His smile grew larger. "Maybe we'll get somewhere."
She half sobbed into his leather jacket.
"How'd you know I love bunnies?" Glasses untangled and now back on his face, they both crouched down to pet the rabbits that had scattered at her outburst and now were slowly coming back.
Alfred laughed, that brilliant sweet laugh, that always belied his popularity's meanness. "Cuz I know you," he said, "still want to know you."
Amelia smiled, "I do like you, Alfred." She brushed her bangs away from her head. "I look a right mess."
He blushed. "You look beautiful as always," he said in response.
She grinned, "And you know you look handsome already, you goof!" She pushed him and almost knocked him over.
They sat there again; this time, Alfred took one of her hands and they petted the same bunny. She let her fingers roam over and under his own, and he did likewise. Suddenly shy and cheeks red, making him look just like his twin, Alfred turned to her.
"You wanna go see the ocean?"
Amelia smiled, "You serious?"
"Yeah, I've always wanted to see the ocean. Bet it looks just like your eyes." Alfred smiled at her.
She blushed. "Sure." Her heart just smiled with her.
"You got a gorgeous truck."
"Yeah, you bet!" She grinned at him all the way.
"Wanna get a drink?"
"Nah." She said, and snuggled a small grey bunny to her chin. "I've already got a tall drink right here. He's petting the bunnies with me."
Alfred just laughed. And then swallowed nervously as she leaned towards him. He took every moment for serious this time round. No more just goofin' around. He leaned in, and let their lips touch. I love you. He thought as she deepened the kiss.
"Now." She brushed off her knees and stood up. "You earn that kiss, Alfred Jones." She wandered in the bunnies, her silhouette set off by the sun. Alfred F. Jones just smiled.
"Hell, woman. You bet your boots."
Blinding white smiles flashed at each other. "You comin'?" A slim pretty hand that could never keep a manicure long was held out to him.
He took her hand and they walked together.