Disclaimer: Nope.

A/N: De-anon from the kink meme~ original link on my profile. c:


it's French, but at least it's a hot water bottle

Victoria was absent. Well, technically, she wasn't absent - how could you be absent to a party? Wasn't like anyone kept track of who was and wasn't there. Technically, mused Marie-France as she hailed a taxi, Victoria had just bailed. Flat-out and bailed. If it had been anyone else, Marie wouldn't have cared; after all, you couldn't be absent to a party.

So the reason that the French girl was sitting in a taxicab, legs crossed daintily and hands in her lap as the driver took her to Victoria's house?

Marie's reasoning went as follows:

One. Victoire isn't here.

Two. Victoire never breaks her arrangements.

Three. Victoire is obviously masturbating, and finding it more important than partying. I think I'll go give her a hand. Literally.

So, ten minutes later, Marie-France stood in front of the intercom, a pout on her exquisite face as she pressed the call button for the fifth time. "Victoire? Open up!"

It took a few more tries, but finally a tired-sounding voice replied with a grumpy, "Dammit, you frog! What the hell do you want?" A pause. "It's two in the bloody morning!"

"And you jus' zoun' chipper," growled the blonde outside, rubbing her arms to warm up. "Let me een, eet'z freezing out 'ere, and being 'alf-drunk duz not 'elp at all!"

Victoria grumbled and unlocked the door, and Marie stepped in, grateful to be out of the cold. "What do you want?"

Marie took her time taking off her shoes and coat, setting them carefully before looking up. And clicking her tongue, because even through alcohol-bleary eyes, she could tell what a mess the Briton was in. Victoria's long blond hair fell in messy tangles over her shoulders, like she'd been tossing and turning for hours, and her eyes were exhausted, ringed with dark circles, like she'd tried to fall asleep but been distracted by something. Her lips were chapped, like she'd been breathing shallowly through her lips and not her nose for the whole day, and she was leaning against the wall for support. And she didn't have pants on, so her shaky legs were visible.

The Parisian grinned. "Ohoho, Victoire! What 'ave you been doing all zees time, not coming to my party?"

"Dying," groaned the other. Victoria jerked her head to brush the bangs out of her eyes, and wrapped her arms around her stomach, hunching as she padded over to the kitchen.

"You certainly look like eet~" sang Marie. "Dying of des orgasmes, oui?"

Victoria looked both aghast and bemused from where she stood by the counter, one arm still over her tummy and the other pouring hot water into a cup for tea. "I-idiot! I'm on my -" She cut off abruptly, a funny expression on her face, before dashing out of the room. Marie perked up, the curiosity on her face quickly changing to a look of distaste as she heard the telltale sound of retching coming from down the hall. She got up and raided the fridge, pulling out the carton of milk and pouring some into a mug before popping it in the microwave; as it warmed, she set about finding the cloves and honey in the pantry. When the milk was hot, Marie scraped off the cream from the top and dropped in five cloves, letting them soak for a minute or so before stirring in two spoons of honey and taking the mug to the bathroom.

The Briton lay curled up on the floor, a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead as she bit her lip in pain. "G-gah, you still here, frog?"

"But of course," smirked the blonde, easing Victoria up and propping her against the wall. "Here. Mind, eet's 'ot."

Victoria sniffled a thanks and sipped at the milk, sighing happily at the warmth. "God, I fucking hate my period."

Marie blinked. Oh. So Victoria hadn't been masturbating.

Well, she thought as Victoria drank a bit more, grimacing at the taste, at least she has a legitimate reason for bailing.

Victoria couldn't stand on her own after that one particularly bad bout of sick, so Marie helped her up and half-carried her to the sofa. "Do you 'ave any 'ot-water bottles?"

"No. Erin took them when she was pregnant and never gave them back." Victoria frowned and clutched at her stomach again. "I need to get those damn things back..."

"Oui...but till then," grinned Marie, dropping onto the sofa next to Victoria and wrapping her arms around the Briton's midsection, "I'll be one for you, mon ange~!"

Victoria scowled, but leaned into Marie's touch, groaning in relief as the French girl rubbed her aching stomach muscles gently. "Shut up and pass me the telly remote."

Marie kissed her forehead and grinned at the squawk she recieved in response.


A/N: Yeah. c: