Requested by thewriteday from that prompt post currently making the rounds in the tumblrsphere.
Invite Me:
"Baby? You want me to what?" Brenda hadn't been paying attention to whatever Sharon just asked, far too absorbed in a Russian spy novel.
"Meet my parents, Brenda Leigh. Come with me for Easter?" Sharon propped her hip against the bathroom door, incredibly nervous but optimistic.
The blonde perked up, no longer interested in the book. "Are you sure? I'm not really good at meetin' parents, especially the Yankee kind."
"I don't think Northern Californians count as Yankees…" Sharon threw a leg over Brenda, gingerly perching across her hips.
"Well it's your funeral," shrugged the younger woman, pulling Sharon down for a kiss. She'd impress that Raydor clan, even if it killed her.
Fight Me:
"Honestly, if I have to listen to anymore of Pope's whinin', I'm gonna shoot'em," Brenda vowed with a huff, flopping ungracefully into her desk chair.
"Please don't - I'd rather not have to investigate you for at least a few more months." Sharon rolled her eyes; sometimes her girlfriend was just ridiculous.
"I told you, last time was an accident," the blonde whined. "How was I supposed to know those new fangled stun-guns were so powerful?"
"You dropped a 300 pound man in 2 seconds. I figured that might have been your first clue…" Sharon attempted her best Captain Raydor tone, but couldn't hide the smirk.
"You're impossible," the younger woman groaned.
"Pot calling the kettle black, Brenda Leigh."