Disclaimer: I have no ownership of anything recognizable...
Blame: Captain. She is the other parent to this thing. She also encouraged me to write this when I was complaining about how I keep on beginning fics and leaving them with a page or so written.
Warning: The following contains some pretty hardcore crack humor. ;) It's not meant to necessarily make sense. I am not responsible for any broken brains that occur from readers overthinking the characters and their actions...
Once upon a time, there lived a girl named *ahem* caylender. She had a job that paid her to be there, so she went to her job, but it didn't fully hold her attention. One of the consolations allotted to her was that she was able to communicate with her good friend, Captainbartholomew, when she was not weighed down with tasks, and she readily took advantage of this fact. One day during one of these times of idle frivolity, the Cap and Cay wrote the skeletal outline of a story about eating utensils and one man's love for one in particular. This is that story.
Roman was feeling the last ebbs of his patience begin to abandon him as a woman became gutsy enough to begin to rub his upper arms in fascination. He loved Seth and Dean. He really did. Everyone knew that. They were brothers. He had their backs. They had his. He would take a beating for them. They would do the same for him. However…
He was going to spear them both into next week's RAW, and he wouldn't feel the least bit guilty over it.
"Nope!" Dean repeated. His face was almost deadpan, no nonsense. He wouldn't even consider what Seth was saying.
The woman moved her hands to Roman's back with a dreamy sigh.
"Dean, just hand it over already!" Seth said, exasperatedly. One of his hands was tangled in the blond chunk of his hair, and he was tugging on it out of frustration.
"Nope!"
"Ahh!" Seth kicked his backpack out of extreme exasperation. "Jeez, man! It's just a fork!"
Dean glared at Seth. "She's not just a fork to me!"
Two more women suddenly appeared next to the first woman and gazed at him, longingly.
Roman sighed. Yes, this was his life. His two best friends were arguing over eating utensils right in front of the airport security while a growing number of women were eying him up like he was a nice T-bone steak and they were as greedily hungry as Ryback. Seth stood in front of their carry-ons, demanding Dean's precious fork, and Dean stood across from him with his arms crossed, petulantly.
Roman had to admit that it was pretty lucky that they were currently in a blimp of a town in the smallest, most local airport that he had ever been in; otherwise, he was sure that they would have been arrested by airport security. As it was, the security force that was watching actually looked amused.
Four more women materialized seemingly from nowhere.
"Do you think they'll sign something if I ask them?" A man asked from where he leaned against the body scanner. "I wish I would've known they'd be here; I would've brought all my stuff for them to sign."
The guy next to him was occupied with twirling his nightstick. "Yeah, Al? What kind of stuff?"
"Oh, you know," Al said. "The usual. Some posters, some pictures, some life-sized cardboard cutouts…"
Roman shot an intimidating look over at the two airport staff members; that was an alarming statement. Al had the decency to look sheepish, and quickly said, "It's not for anything weird, I swear!"
Three more teenage girls joined Roman's following.
"I swear, Dean, I'll buy you an entire set of silverware if you just leave that thing with the security, so we can board this flight!"
"But this isn't just any fork! This is my fork!" Dean actually cradled the fork in his hands. "She's been with me for a long time! Since the indie days! I have a whole lotta special memories with her!"
Seth threw his arms into the air. "It's a fork!"
"It's my beloved and wonderful friend; I'll never let her go! She's helped me out so many times; she always has my back! She's stabbed a'many a bad man for me!"
Seth stared at Dean with wide eyes.
Now Roman had somewhere around twenty women surrounding him. When had they all gotten there? Roman's eyes darted back and forth among his horde. One of the women almost swooned when she made eye contact with him.
"Dean, I…I really don't think it's very sanitary for you to still have that thing."
"His eyes!" One brunette sighed.
"She's clean, Rollins! I washed all the blood off her!"
"His arms!" A busty lady swooned.
"Dean!"
"His hair!" A woman with vivid red hair breathed.
"Seth! It was just some guy's blood. It happens when I stab someone in the forehead with my beautiful fork!"
"His smoldering gaze!" One of the teens whimpered.
"You're joking; please, tell me you're joking!"
"His abs!" One of the other teen girls speculated.
"You do what you have to do in a Death Match. You wouldn't understand, pretty boy."
"His ass!" Someone behind him cried.
Roman tore his eyes away from his two brothers to send another round of warning glares to the women. Then an animalistic snarl filled the too chilly, air-conditioned air.
Seth had tackled Dean and was currently trying to pry the fork out of his hands.
"Ouch! You jerk, that was my ribs!"
"That's what you get for calling me a pretty boy!"
"What did I touch a nerve, princess?"
Seth elbowed Dean in the nose, causing Dean to yelp. "Sounds like I touched a nerve!"
Dean snarled in response and… Both wrestlers broke apart from one another and stood casually: Dean still cradling his fork and Seth whistling while Roman was busy glowering at his harem of women that surrounded him from all sides.
Triple H and Stephanie slowing strolled by them, arm in arm.
"How's it going, boys?" Triple H asked as Stephanie adjusted her hold on his arm, so she was holding his hand instead.
"Oh, you know not bad at all!" Seth responded, easily.
Dean looked up from his precious and nodded eagerly. "We're just waiting for a friend."
Stephanie cocked an eyebrow. "Really, who?"
Seth and Dean exchanged quick glances before Seth said, "It's a- uh- lady friend of the Big Dog."
Triple H and Stephanie stared at the crowd of more than fifty women that surrounded Roman. "He doesn't have enough already?"
Dean shrugged and said, "He has needs" just as Seth was saying, "He's just really popular with the ladies."
The two Shield members shared another look.
Triple H looked fairly impressed while Stephanie look very scandalized. Triple H nodded in approval and said, "Well, just look out for him."
Dean shrugged. "We'll keep him in line, sir." Seth quickly voiced his agreement.
Then Stephanie practically dragged Triple H through security, and soon they were safely out of sight and around the corner.
Roman felt something brush against his arm, and Roman glared at a blonde who blushed at the contact she had made with the wrestler.
Seth then charged Dean, putting him into a headlock. However, he positively shrieked in surprise when Dean stabbed him in the arm with his precious fork.
"Oh you little-"
"Oh, his beautiful face!" One lady screamed.
Roman jumped. The koala woman was now groping his butt. He turned and glared at her, and she held up her hands in surrender. "That's it!" He roared.
He began to charge through the harem of woman to go break up his brothers, but he stopped in his tracks.
"Seth!" Roman bellowed. "Did you just perform a Skywalker on your brother?"
Guiltily, Seth glanced up from where he had flipped over Dean. "Um, no?"
Dean sprung up and stabbed Seth again in the upper arm with the fork again and again.
"DEAN!"
The two started fighting like wildcats again.
Roman growled at the women, who then began to disperse from the scene. He then surged towards his brothers and yanked them apart, gripping their collars. The fork clattered to the ground.
"Damn it, Dean! I'm going to have to wear long sleeves for a week to cover up all these fork stabs!" Seth groaned.
"It's not my fault that you asked-"
Roman roared, interrupting Dean, "That's enough!"
The two had the decency to look sheepish.
"Apologize," Roman spat out.
They eyed each other from opposite sides of Roman.
"Sorry for attacking you, Dean."
"It's okay. I guess, I'm sorry for stabbing you…um...that many times with my baby, bro."
Seth sighed. "We're cool."
"Good" Roman grunted, and he began to drag them towards the doors.
"Rome, what are you doing?" Seth grounded out.
"Forget flying. We're renting a car."
For some reason, Seth was surprised that he didn't add a "Believe that" to his statement.
"Noo!" Dean yowled like an alley cat. He twisted around as much as he could to gaze longingly back at his fork.
"What?" The question came out more like a growl from the Samoan.
"My fork!" Dean whimpered.
Roman sighed, sounding like the parent of a very trying child, and he released his hold on Dean, who barreled over to his fork to fetch it.
"I can't believe you! You totally gave in." Seth was actually pouting at him.
Roman sighed again and put Seth into a headlock as he continued to drag the two toned man over to the kiosk that specialized in car rentals. "For some reason, I'm not going to be guilt tripped by the man who was just in a fist fight over a fork."
Seth crossed his arms and allowed Roman to drag him along.
Dean cradled the fork in his hands and cuddled it to his face. "It's okay now, my precious. That mean skunk won't hurt you! It's all good, beautiful; papa's got you now and forever."
AN: Basically, one day when I was texting Captain at work…I mean, I would never text at work…But anyways, I was mentioning the fact that I had just finished reading Willow Edmond's The Girl Who Lives, and to my my amusement, my phone's autocorrect (which really despises me for some reason, just ask Captain if you don't believe me) autocorrected that title into The Fork Who Loves. When I told Cap about this, she thought it was super amusing and mused that she's love to read that fic. Then we essentially wrote the fic alternating via text messages. So thanks to autocorrect?
Another AN: I'm also kinda a alarmed that I wrote something so scathing about women; literally the only sensible one in here was Stephanie. *raises eyebrows in amazement* I swear, I'm someone that normally writes analytical essays on the portrayal of female characters in Virginia Woolf's novels... But I think that Roman tends to bring out the crazy in many female fans.
But anyways, the myth goes that unless you leave a review, a Lunatic Fringe will show up in your bedroom with a bloody fork... See where this is going? (;