Title: Tear in My Beer
Author: S J Smith
Rating: teen
Summary: Katchoo still misses Francine.
Disclaimer: Just playing paper dolls, here.
Warnings: I haven't read SiP in literally years. Mentally, I set this after Francine married Brad. Please forgive me if I have my time periods mixed up, but I'm not planning on rereading to correct this at any time in the forseeable future. Additionally, this was written for the prompt of: iany, any, a bath tub filled with beer/i, which just struck me as a Katchoo thing to do.
The fumes were almost enough to intoxicate him. David paused, trying to breathe shallowly, and called, "Katchoo?" There was a sort of mumbled response, and he followed it, wincing as he reached the bathroom door. Propped half-open, he could see inside to the bathtub, and Katchoo, sprawled in it. He averted his eyes. "Is that beer?"
"It's a shitload of beer," Katchoo said. "I couldn't afford to do this in whiskey."
"Katchoo." David exhaled slowly. "Why did you buy enough beer to take a bath in it?"
She laughed, a low, smoky sound. She had that whiskey voice, rough and velvety, and David tried not to consider that she was naked under all that booze. "They say that beer makes a pretty good hair conditioner. I figured I have hair…everywhere."
He rubbed his mouth. "Katchoo, does this have anything to do with Francine?"
"No," she said, snorting, then splashed in the beer. "Maybe."
"Katchoo," David said. "Why don't you drain the tub, and shower off, and we'll," he hesitated, thinking of all the things he wanted to do, and settled on, "talk."
"Talking doesn't do any good, David. You know that." More splashing.
"It's all I can offer." He rolled his head, as if she might see his profile and pay attention. "And some coffee."
"Coffee," Katchoo muttered, and there was more splashing. "Okay. Coffee." He heard a gurgling as the beer began draining out of the tub.
"I'll make it, you take a shower," David reminded her. "If you need any help, you let me know."
"Uh, huh." The water started, and David hoped she'd remembered to pull the shower curtain. If not well, it'd just be another mess to clean up later. Maybe that was all he was good for, cleaning up after Katchoo; taking care of her when she got like this, now that Tambi was AWOL and Francine was engaged to Brad.
"God," he said softly, closing his eyes, "help us both."
- end -