AN: Sorry for the delay in posting this, I caught a cold which morphed into an ear infection that was a complete bitch; I don't remember ear infections being that painful as a kid. Also, this is the last of my written drabbles. I have a few more in the works, but all my writing came to a halt when I was ill, so it might be a bit before the next one is posted. Sorry, but not much I can do at this point. Tag to Message Received. The text this was based on will be at the end of the drabble so I don't ruin the story before it comes up.
Paying Your Dues
Liz swept her hair up with practiced hands, slowly molding and pinning the thick, sable curls into an artful cluster at the crown of her head, allowing it to then drip and cascade over her neck and back. Sighing when a stubborn tendril or two kept coming loose, she finally gave up and left them to dangle softly against her cheeks as she wrestled the rest into a beautiful up do. Snapping it all into place with one last jeweled barrette, she then turned to the small bag at her elbow and begun to apply her make-up with a light, deft touch – eyeliner, soft, barely there shadow, a wisp of mascara, just a hint of blush, and finally the pale pink shimmer of gloss. It was all she needed in her opinion.
Not that her friends would have agreed.
Smirking as she recalled their oh-so-innocent invitation to get ready at Isabel's house, Liz put away her make-up bag and then turned to her clothing with an exasperated huff. Did they honestly think they had fooled her? Their tones had been a little too innocent for her comfort, which is why she had flatly declined, a little knowing smile quirking her lips as Tess giggled and the other two pouted. Isabel and Maria had longed to get their hands on her, to give her a 'much needed update,' as they put it, but she routinely shot them down. She was quite happy with her simple style, and as long as Michael liked it, then it was no one else's business.
Her look was understated sexy and fit her personality. She saw no need for, nor did she have any intentions of, updating her look.
Besides, she had seen what Maria considered fashionable over the years – anyone recall that god awful pixie cut from sophomore year – and there was no way in hell that she'd let her near her clothing or hair, best friend or not. She had far too much self-preservation for that.
Slipping into a simple, silky burgundy tank top, she topped it with a black, v-neck sweater and paired them with snug, black jeans that hugged every curve, but were still loose enough to be comfortable. She then sat down on the closed toilet seat to put on black boots that hit her at mid-calf and added the diamond earring and necklace set that Michael had gotten her for Christmas. Something she suspected happened at Isabel's interference, since she had also received a microscope as well, (which she absolutely loved), and jewelry wasn't really something she or Michael wore all that much.
Standing up, she looked at herself in the full-length mirror, smiling and nodding her approval, she plucked at her sweater – it clung in all the right places without being too low-cut and wasn't so tight that it would be considered indecent. Plus, if she got too warm, she could just remove it. That was the beauty of her fashion sense – multiple layers, so that she'd never be caught off guard unlike her friends who followed fashion dictates to the point of almost freezing to death. I mean really, what was the point to wearing something that was only going to leave you miserable and uncomfortable the entire time?
It made no sense.
Giving her appearance one last look, Liz nodded to herself and exited the bathroom, off to find Michael, who she was certain was waiting for her in the living room, impatiently pacing and scratching at his brow. Michael had never been one to care much for his appearance, and typically, party clothes to him consisted of his least ripped pair of jeans, a plain white t-shirt, with his least wrinkled, long-sleeved shirt thrown over the top. One that was only in one of three colors – black, navy, or a green so dark, it might as well have been black.
This of course was topped off with his least scuffed Docs, and his ever present rings, the only jewelry Liz had seen him wear; and those only because he had been found with them when social services rescued him from the desert. At that point, all he would then do is run a brush through his shoulder-length waves and call it good.
It was actually rather irritating that someone could look so sinfully sexy in ten minutes. At most.
Which is why she was utterly confused that she found the living room empty when she emerged from their room and her boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. Glancing down the hallway curiously, she turned towards the kitchen, think he might have gotten a drink; but when she got there, she found it too was empty. Frowning, she made her way back into the living room, and that's when she noticed that the guest room door was closed; something she typically left open unless it was occupied. Standing before the door, she twisted the knob, her frown deepening as she noted that it was locked from the inside.
"Michael?" she called out, hesitantly knocking on the door, and arched a brow when she heard a suspicious rustling from within.
"Just a minute," Michael called through the door, the solid wood doing nothing to hide the obvious irritation lacing his tone. "I'll be done in just a minute or two."
Liz just raised her brows slowly at this comment, wondering what could possibly be keeping her no-fuss boyfriend; especially when she swore she heard him muttering, 'I just need to figure out how to put these stupid things on,' under his breath. Casting a wary glance at the door, Liz decided that, after the Mayo Incident, she really didn't want to know. Instead, she walked away, shaking her head and calling over her shoulder –
"I'll just wait for you in the living room then."
Liz sat down in her favorite, overstuffed chair, thankfully easily liberated of Maria funk due to her nifty powers, and proceeded to wait for several more minutes. But the door to the guest bedroom remained firmly closed and the only thing she could hear was Michael's garbled muttering followed by the occasional thump and curse. Pursing her lips, she was just about to go back over to the door when Michael came storming out in a fine temper, wearing…well, she honestly wasn't sure exactly what he was wearing, but it definitely had the power to completely rob her of her speech.
Mouth agape, Liz stared at her sulking beloved unblinkingly for a full minute before the burning in the back of her eyes forced her to do so; and then she blinked again, because, really, what else could she do? There really were no words to adequately describe the sight before her eyes, no matter how hard she tried to find the words.
Meanwhile, the tetchy alien merely stared back, almost daring her to say something.
Finally, after another minute had passed in complete and utter dumbfounded silence, as well as neither of them relinquishing that unflinching gaze, Liz cleared her throat and commented in as calm and dry a voice as possible –
"I was unaware that a tutu and pasties were appropriate attire for this…"
But she barely managed it, choking on her laughter as she was, and she was quite proud of herself when she managed to swallow it down before she could irritate Michael further.
Michael just glowered, as he likely knew she was laughing at him on the inside, and then huffed, because, again, what could be said? He was standing there, clothed in a knee-length, black tutu, bare-chested, with two scarlet pasties dangling from his nipples. And if that weren't bad enough, there were two golden bells, one attached to each tassel, chiming whenever he moved. This all paired with shiny, just buffed black Docs with red laces; she supposed if he were to be wearing the most ridiculous thing she had seen in a long time, at least it didn't clash.
Licking her lips, Liz lifted shining eyes to her morose boyfriend, and opened and closed her mouth several times before she finally managed to say, "How…why…?"
"Don't," Michael commanded tetchily, nearly spitting the word through clenched teeth as he defensively crossed his arms over his chest. "Just…don't."
Liz swallowed her laughter with visible effort, again; which just set the irate man to scowling fiercely as he began to mutter under his breath about unfair bets and midgets that needed their asses kicked. Ah. So that was the way of it. Yeah, she was better off not knowing just what had led to this event.
"All right," she conceded, getting out of her chair to gather her wallet and the car keys, her lips twitching as she helplessly attempted to quell the giggle rising in her throat. "We should probably get moving then." And then paused when Michael's face split into a smile of unholy glee as he strode out the door with as much dignity as possible, mumbling, "Yes, let's. I can't wait to see Kyle."
Raising a brow to that comment, Liz just smirked and thought; 'it's going to be an entertaining night.'
… … …
Isabel stared at the clock above the mantle for the dozenth time and huffed, tapping her fingers impatiently against her arm as she wondered just what on Earth was taking Kyle so long to get ready. They should have left for Maria's fifteen minutes ago, and now, they were going to be late. He knew she despised being late. Huffing again when she heard a loud clatter from their room, she blatantly ignored the whispers and the curious glances that Tess and Alex kept shooting her.
Usually, it was the opposite. Kyle was sitting out in the rec room, chatting with Tess and Alex, idly tapping his fingers to some beat he heard in his head and waiting for Isabel to finally be done with her beauty rituals. But for some reason, Kyle had waited for the last possible minute to get ready, shooting Isabel and their roommates a shifty look as he scurried into their room to change. She hadn't said anything at the time, as it normally took him no time at all to get ready; but now, twenty minutes in, she was beginning to wonder what the hold up was.
And she was just about to pound on the door and demand to know exactly that when the door opened and Kyle came strutting out.
Isabel's jaw dropped; sagging to nearly her chest as she froze and stood, gaping at her boyfriend in a completely uncharacteristic way. But could anyone really blame her? For standing there, hand resting on one sassily cocked hip, stood Kyle in an electric blue corset, black leather hot pants and black cowboy boots. The entire outfit was augmented by a black Stetson, an electric blue feather tucked into its band, and a dazzling, devil-may-care grin.
Opening and closing her mouth in complete and utter shock, Isabel didn't know what to say; especially when he jauntily tipped his hat at her and drawled.
"Howdy there, little Lady."
At that point, her equally speechless roommates lost it, Alex howling in laughter at the sight and Tess, giggling from behind her hand, jolting Isabel out of her speechless stupor enough to demand, "What on Earth are you…"
But then halted, once again struck speechless as Kyle preened and posed for their hysterically laughing friends, pulling a toy gun out of God only knows where since his hot pants didn't look as if you could shove a piece of paper in them, let alone props. Closing her mouth with a snap, Isabel raised a single hand to ward off any explanations. Because really, they weren't needed.
"On second thought, I don't want to know. Let's just go. We're late enough as it is."
And with that, Isabel spun on her heel and began to gather her things, blatantly ignoring the conversation swirling around her. Because it was the truth. She really didn't want to know why her boyfriend was dressed like a pornographic cowboy. Although, she was quite certain that Michael was involved; he just had to be.
"I didn't know that this was going to be a costume party," Alex snickered, attempting to, but utterly failing, to pout. Mostly due to the uncontrolled mirth that continued to bubble up from his gut. "I feel so left out."
"Not to worry," a giggling Tess soothed mockingly, patting Alex on the arm as they walked out the front door. "I put your maracas and sombrero in the car. You should fit right in."
"You know," Alex replied thoughtfully, his face a mask of confusion. "I still can't remember where I got those."
"That's probably for the best, dear," Tess nodded, playing the sympathetic wife routine as Alex shook his head, and then chortled when Kyle bolted past them, galloping to the car as if he were riding a horse, cackling madly as he breezed past.
"If you guys like this, you're gonna love Michael's get up!"
Isabel just groaned at that comment, rubbing at her temples as the beginnings of a headache made itself known, closing and locking the door behind her, and wondered, not for the first time, just what the hell had she gotten herself into, and whether it was worth it. Then turning around, she studied her loudly whooping boyfriend with a reluctant grin as he pretended to lasso Alex, and rolled her eyes, knowing that yes, yes it was. And then followed behind the pack and climbed into a car full of love and laughter.
If nothing else, it certainly wasn't boring.
End Note: This drabble is based on this original text - I was unaware that a tutu and pasties was appropriate attire to this. I swear, there should be a rule that says you can't send these things in without the story attached to it. Then again, I suppose I wouldn't have this drabble series if I had an explanation. So yay for those who unknowingly pique the muse.
