A/N: This is my first She's the Man. It may be my only as well. Hmm. I don't know where this came from. It's just a drabble-y ficlet introspective of Monique and all her uppity-I'm-better-than-you-cause-I-have-a-nice-ass behavior. Ha Ha. Enjoy. R&R. Thanks! –Mac
Disclaimer: I don't own She's The Man.
Nonnegotiable Standards
Monique was all about attention. She thrived on it. But there was only a certain brand of attention she actually tolerated. She liked to believe she was a strong woman. She didn't appreciate being treated as an object (at least not by someone she didn't deem worthy of her attention, if he was a man who could somehow fulfill her needs and whims then he could treat her like a toy as he pleased).
Sure, she was a touch narcissistic. She knew she was hot. She knew she had a great ass. There wasn't a guy in the world who shouldn't admire her body (even the gay guys should want to look at her when she passed, at the very least they could appreciated her flawless clothing selection). Maybe she was a bitch for thinking she was better than pretty much everyone she had met or associated with, but she couldn't help how she felt.
She adored compliments. She expected to be showered with them. But she only accepted them from guys who reached a certain standard on the hot-or-not scale. And if they were too crude then she felt entitled to lash out with violent threats.
So when a sub-par guy whistled at her as she passed him on the street, she felt she had a right to put him in his place.
She whipped around and stalked back toward him. He smirked as she approached, "Hey baby."
"Don't 'hey baby' me. You whistle at me like that again and I'll rip that tongue out of your mouth and strangle you with it. Got it? Kay thanks."
She turned on her heel, leaving him speechless. Did she fell the slightest bit guilty?
Hell no. She had standards after all.
