The Secret Life of Kat-Katrick, T for salty language and sexual situations.
Summary: Kat is convinced that stupidity is running rampant when her favorite show is cancelled without warning.
Note: Yes, this is a reaction to the recent news that 5 episodes is all we have left of our beloved Ten Things. I am still in shock and feeling bitter about this decision.
****[Kat]
My Monday morning misery started with a tweet from my online bff. "OMFG. They axed God and Country."
Power TV ran a show about a whip smart ex-military woman turned minister with a hankering for the hunky sexton at her church. It was so much like the character I adored in Julia Spencer-Fleming's mystery series that I was glued to the set every Monday at 8. The show's fans were as rabidly obsessed as me, and tweeted about every nuance and subtext between Jayne and Sully. Our hearts beat almost as wildly as the Twilight crowd, though we hid our mania behind the smug self-assurance that we were above such crazed behavior.
Fan fiction for the show boiled over at ffnet and swamped the boards at public and private forums. I was good for a few drabbles, but my favorite tweeter had an adoring audience who followed her every utterance with a collective sigh. But now that our bubble was burst, rage and hatred toward the clueless suits at PTV was overtaking the coos and giggles on the network's web site.
My online handles were nowhere close to my real name, and not even Mandella knew I shipped so hard that I couldn't see straight. I downloaded the show from a blogging group and watched it with feverish intensity after the lights went out each night. My Dad and Bianca knew nothing about this side of me, and I preferred to keep it that way.
The car ride was sheer torture, and Bianca jabbered so effortlessly that she barely noticed my silence. As we got out of the car, she said, "Hmm, either Patrick pissed you off, or you've been tuning into Dr. Laura."
"None of the above," I said flatly, slamming the car door so hard that the Volvo vibrated.
"OK." Bianca help up her hands in surrender and moved off to join her friends.
And wouldn't you know, the very first person I encountered was the smirking countenance of Patrick Verona, the person most likely to find out the truth and mock me for all eternity.
Yeah, this was turning crappier by the second.
[Patrick]
I could practically see storm clouds brewing when Kat approached me, her black coat flying behind her as if caught up in a full gale. "Crap, crap." She muttered under her breath and kicked the locker next to mine, leaving an impressive dent in Tabitha Cook's locker.
"Wow, what did I do now?" I asked with a smirk.
Kat rolled her eyes. "It's not always about you."
I leaned in close. "Isn't it?"
Her lips tightened. "Spare me the charm. I've had a crappy morning."
"Really? So what bug crawled up your ass this time?"
Kat made a haha gesture with her luscious mouth. "Nothing you care about."
"Try me." I caught sight of Tabitha bearing down on us and linked my arm through hers. "But not here."
We barely got around the corner before an enraged shriek reached us. "Did she see me?"
I peeked back around the corner where Tabitha was definitely not doing a happy dance. "Don't think so. So, wanna tell me what's got you all hot and bothered?"
We were standing toe to toe and her nostrils flared slightly when her agile mind calculated the very short distance between our lips. "Can't." Kat looked down and dug her hands in her pockets, and the becoming flush on her cheeks was worth the price I'd pay for prying the answer out of her.
"Sure you can." It was almost impossible not to touch her, so I brushed aside an errant curl and waited expectantly. "Tell me."
"Promise you won't laugh?" Kat's dark eyes pleaded with me, and she looked so adorable that I wanted to lap her up.
"Sure." I caught her clean scent and inhaled deeply as she regarded me with a stony expression.
"They cancelled my ____." I didn't hear the last bit because she mumbled it through clenched teeth.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" My fingers went to my ear dramatically.
Kat swatted my fingers away and snarled, "Those assholes at Power TV cancelled my show after five episodes."
My only TV was a crappy, black and white model that dated back to the Reagan years. Blank chose that exact second to pass by, and I couldn't resist my old chap vocal inflection. "That's why your panties are in a twist?" My laugh gurgled out despite my best intentions.
She punched my bicep. "Jerk. I knew you wouldn't understand."