It wasn't a dark and stormy night. Nor was it a gloriously sunny day. It was, however, dull, depressingly overcast, and the clouds themselves looked as if they would burst into tears any moment. Unfortunately for one, it was also the Harris family's idea of "perfect camping weather".

If you asked Catherine Harris what she thought of camping, she could give you one of two answers. The first being an entirely appropriate, PG answer on how fantastic it is that she can spend time with her family. Alternatively, she could give a response usually reserved for mature audiences, complete with (in her opinion) a rather accurate description of the resemblance between her sister's face and rear end.

Catherine sighed audibly in the hopes that the younger Harris sister, Fiona, would take the hint and stop talking. But no one ever said Fiona was smart. And no one ever said Catherine was listening.

"You get what I'm saying, right?" Fiona asked, turning fully to face Catherine. Her eyes were unblinking and completely focused on what Catherine's answer would be.

Meanwhile, Catherine's brain went into a state of sheer, bloody panic. Yes, no, maybe, of cour- "Umm, what?"

Might as well just slap 'Failure at Life' on my forehead now, thought Catherine. Hmmm, I could use Fiona's new lipstick, it is bright enough. She tilted her head to inspect the colour and noticed that the lips were actually moving again. Not surprising, really.

Fiona sighed deeply and dramatically before continuing, "What I'm saying is, Cathy dearest, is that I have no signal." She made sure to drag out every word she said as if she were explaining it to a child. If anything, it should be me dumbing it down for her, Cathy grumbled in her head.

"What's the problem with having no signal? We're camping," or attempting to, Cathy added mentally, "I thought that meant 'spending time together and bonding as a family'." Cathy did what she thought was a rather accurate imitation of their mother at this point, complete with and upturned nose and a posh, nasally voice.

Fiona huffed in an indignant manner but couldn't suppress a slight smirk at her sister's impression. "If I have no signal, then I cant text or call my boyfriend." Her face looked quite distraught at the mere notion.

Cathy snorted but quickly covered it up as a cough and looked down sheepishly. Well, might as well play along… What was her boyfriend's name again? "How is Paul, by the way?" She asked, attempting to fake an interest.

"Peter"

"What?"

"His name is Peter," Fiona flipped a few golden brown curls over her shoulder before continuing, snootily, "Paul was last week."

"Paul was yesterday." Cathy deadpanned.

"Oh, well, sticks and stones." Fiona retorted and once again turned to Cathy, "But let's talk about the real issue here," she paused for what she thought to be dramatic effect, "when was the last time that you got laid?"

Cathy didn't reply and seemed to be content with doing her impression of a flabbergasted goldfish.

Fiona simply took this as an invitation to continue, "I mean, really got laid! You're 26 and when was the last time you had a boyfriend? Or even a one night stand!" She used her arms to exaggerate what she was saying and stared at her sister as if she were diseased and highly contagious.

Cathy decided to drop the goldfish act, but could only sputter wildly as she tried to form a coherent sentence. She eventually shut her mouth completely and turned a rather violent shade of red. Just don't say anything, she thought. If you don't respond, she'll just go away.

No such luck

"I'm just taking this vow of silence as you admitting that I'm right." Fiona sang, triumphantly. She grinned at Cathy like the cat that got the cream for a few moments, before going back to her frantic phone waving.

Right. Bugger this, Cathy decided. She stood awkwardly, trying not to smack her head off the tent and did a strange standing crawl towards the exit/entrance. Pushing her head outside, she squinted at the sky slightly, deciding that not even the promise of rain was going to keep her in that tent any longer than need be.

"You're not going to find a man out there," Fiona laughed, "unless you're into Bigfoot!" She seemed quite proud of her joke and went back to her phone, presumably to try tweeting it.

It took every ounce of Cathy's strength to resist the childish urge of turning around an sticking her tongue out. She instead felt it was more appropriate to shove her middle finger into the giggling 18 year old's face before fighting her way out of the ten's exit/entrance.

Author Note

Hey! Thanks for reading! This is my first fic so please R&R, it would be much appreciated!

- Callie