Mrs Casablancas
Dick has never really been one to borrow things.
He bought things instead.
He hadn't really thought about it but it was probably because he was rich. Just imagining having to borrow stuff, old stuff that other people had had their gross hands all over just turned his stomach.
God he can't even imagine the horrible embarrassment of this thing he'd heard of...hand-me-downs.
He physically shook a little bit.
"I'm going to need it back Dick." Mac tells him firmly pressing the book into his hands. He's a little surprised that Mac has any books at all since she's so electronical.
"Yeah yeah." He waves her off flipping through the book, the pages are worn like she's touched them a million times and something about that seems a lot less appalling then he's always thought. Maybe it's because it's Mac and not some stranger, she's always had clean hands.
"Don't get jam or beer or spunk all over it." She tells him like that's all he is to her, a jammy fingered drunk that fucks a lot, although to be fair he takes a strange joy out of hearing her say spunk.
"I won't." He tells her firmly and she moves back from him a little and it's only then that he realises how close she was standing before, there's this odd loss to the space she used to occupy.
She goes to her door and opens it for him signalling that this particular interaction is over. He hates how it's always her that decides when there done now. He misses the days when it was him that left her, when he was in control of this friendship? Acquaintance? Whatever. But as he leaves she talks again and her voice is light and the look on her face is pleasant, "a week Dick that's it." She smiles at him and disappears back into her dorm and he knows that whatever they have happening is better now.
When he leaves her smiling instead of looking like he hit her.
"What the fuck is this!" He yells and Logan goes cross-eyed trying to push the book away from his face.
Dick is freaking the fuck out. His skin it too hot, his stomach is too tight, he is sure that his lungs aren't working properly.
"I can't see."
"What the fuck is this!" He shakes the book and let's Logan pry it out of his hand. He takes the opportunity to back away from Logan and start pacing the length of their living room.
Logan raises an eyebrow at him like he's had too many and trying to make out with the television, which in his defence only happened once and it was after they got back from TJ, everyone knows that doesn't count.
"You forgot how to spell Mr?" He offers and puts the book down on the couch beside him.
Dick swoops in and picks up the book again. His eyes glued to the slanted writing.
"It says: MRS Casablancas!" He taps on the writing and Logan leans back into the couch to get away from Dick's frantic hand and book combo.
"And..."
"Do you know whose book this is?!" He looks at Logan like he's in the slow class.
"Some girl in your poli sci?" Logan offers and then notes the width of Dick's eyes and the frantic breathing and adds, "a fat chick?" He pauses Dick is unnerved, like his world is coming apart. He hasn't seen this kind of emotion in years, "a POOR fat chick?"
Dick just looks at Logan like he's appalled that he thinks he's like that. He puts a hand to his chest even, he can feel it pounding erratically.
"Mac." He tells Logan managing to somehow sound both put upon and worried.
"Mac?" Logan leans forward on the couch and Dick seems to settle slightly now that he seems to have his friends attention, "Cindy?"
"Cindy?" Dick's eyes narrow, "no. Mac." He tells him again and just to make sure their on the same page adds, "Ghost World."
"Yeah Dick her name is Cindy."
"What? Then why do people call her Mac?"
"Do you even know her name Dick?"
Dick just kind of shrugs like it's never come up before and it hasn't. Why would he ever need to know Ghost Worlds full name?"
Logan runs a hand through his hair and stands from the couch. He smiles at him kinda lopsided and sad and puts a hand on his shoulder, "I'm pretty sure your not the Casablancas in mind here dude." And then he just walks away. Closes his bedroom door in that way that tells him very firmly that Logan Echolls is done with you.
Dick looks down at the slanted writing, in the plain blue pen and see's how curly she's made the c's and s's, how there's an absent-minded calm to it and wonders if she was talking to him on the phone when she wrote it.
He sinks to the couch and let's it just suck him all the way in, let's the over stuffed cushions pull his torso down and he just stays there flopped over looking at MRS CASABLANCAS and tries to focus on breathing, and pumping blood through his veins.
Beaver, she wanted to marry Beaver.
She wanted to be Cindy Casablancas...and fuck that actually sounds good and everything.
It's been so long that he's actually pulled Beaver and Mac apart in his mind because now she wasn't Beaver's little girlfriend or Beaver's beard or the person who...no he wasn't going to go there again(She wasn't the only one to blame. In fact she probably wasn't to blame at all). Now she was just Mac. Ghost World...Mac the vegetable lover who was good at computer stuff, had a good sense of humour and wasn't awful to look at.
Mrs. Cindy Casablancas had never meant marrying him and somehow it made him feel worse rather than better.
He knocks on the door and its probably too sharp and hard but he doesn't want to keep this book, not with her love for his dead brother scribbled all over it. He can't stop looking at Mrs. Casablancas and thinking it'd be a pretty great deal. He'd never have to worry or do anything computer related again and the sex they could have...oh god, it was always the quiet ones.
He has the book opened up to the page and facing the door when she opens it.
"Dick what are you..." She trails off seeing the offending, thought provoking name. Her skin colors, a blush of heat crossing across her face and wrapping down her neck, "It's not what you-"
He doesn't let her finish, he drops the book and slams his mouth against hers.
He knows it doesn't mean him but he really doesn't want to hear her say it and the only way he's ever successfully shut up any girl is with his mouth.
She tastes like toothpaste and cornflakes and her mouth is hot and he feels out the curves of her body with his hands.
She has a frustrating layer of cotton keeping his hands from her skin, the last bastion of her modesty. (See he can be smart sometimes). He has a hand at her hip thumb rubbing against the bone, long strokes that make her push into his hand letting him know that even if her mouth is firmly shut, an angry little line, she's not completely against this.
She runs a hand across his chest, her hand slipping passed his collar and the feel of her skin on his is like burning silk until her nails bite into his skin.
He pulls away and her hand slides easily back out of his shirt.
"What the fu-"
"What the FUCK!" Mac yells and he sees the reason why he couldn't get under her clothes, she's wearing a dress, his hand hadn't been low enough.
"Should I leave?" Another voice comes from the side, Veronica is sitting on the bed with a book on her lap looking confused and slightly scandalised.
"Oh hey Ronnie." Dick smiles and stands up straight, his shoulder burns from where Mac dug into him and his heart beat feels wrong and his breathing is all uneven.
"Dick what the hell!" Mac is running her arm across her mouth like she's trying to remove all traces of him, "It's not y-"
"Don't." He tells her violently, surging towards her again, stopping the words with his mouth. He doesn't want to hear it, doesn't think he can stand to hear it. To have all possibility that she might maybe like him completely dashed.
She stamps on his foot and he pulls back again.
"Stop that!"
"It's not-"
"I know!" He yells over her and when her mouth closes she looking at him confused and he continues softly, "I know it's not me, just, just don't say it."
"why?"
"You can't really be that clueless Ghostworld." He turns to Veronica whose still on the bed, book in her lap with that know all look on her face, "Fill her in Nancy Drew." He tells her and leaves the room, closing the door probably too hard.
This is why he just buys things.
A/N:Just a little somethin I found in my old phone when i was pulling things onto my new one. Thought you might like a look.
