Bananun FanFiction - Midas's Touch: Five Years Later
Alright kiddos, the last installment to Midas's Touch, I hope you enjoy it as much as I have!
Rated T
Lana Winter's dark eyes fixed the house phone with an intensity she reserved for her lover and for dire times. And she wasn't waiting for a call from the alluring blonde. Her fingers drummed on the oak table in a wild rhythm. She didn't dare leave the room. The phone would ring and she'd miss it if she did, and she couldn't miss it.
She heard keys in the front door lock, but didn't tear her gaze away, even as heels clacked down the hall.
Mary Eunice appeared behind her and draped her lithe arms around Lana's neck. She leaned down to bite at the brunette's earlobe.
Lana shrugged her off. "Not now, Mary. I'm waiting for a call."
"Quite obviously." The blonde stepped back, grabbing at her coif and throwing it across the room. It landed easily on the couch. "Who's calling?"
"My editor."
Mary Eunice's grin grew. "Why are you stressing? You and I both know you've got this pussy in the bag." I made quite sure of that, she failed to add.
"And yet he hasn't called." Lana snapped, her fingers picking up their wild synchronization.
"Maybe he's in a meeting, selling your manuscript to Hollywood."
The reporter's eyes broke away from the phone, and she glared at the nun. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
"You know tormenting you is my favorite past-time." The blonde smirked, leaning on the couch.
"Yes well, right now, don't."
"I'd watch my words if I were you." The sister's golden eyes flashed dangerously. "I know you're stressed, but that doesn't mean I'll let you get away with everything." She walked out of the living room, hips swaying. Lana watched her, a soft frown on her face.
I'm paying for that one later.
But she wasn't worried. Afraid, yes, but never worried. She'd been paying for years. She'd been paying for Sister Jude's downfall and Briarcliff's ongoing treatment of patients, just so Mary Eunice could propel herself to stardom, leaving her to tag along, as usual. The house, the maids, the cars, they all came with the price. And that price was her undying commitment and love.
But Mary Eunice, after working five grueling years in that hell hole (undercover, of course) to make sure it was at its absolute worst, had finally let her finish her manuscript. It would blow all other novels out of the water. Forget Sinclair's The Jungle. Lana Winters was the future, Briarcliff her subject, Timothy Howard the villain, her and Mary Eunice the saving angels. They'd be moved to the top of the list, and no one would know they'd been pulling the strings all along, there behind the red curtain, as per the blonde's plan.
As long as Lana got her Pulitzer, she'd try not to think about it too much.
By the time dinner rolled around, the phone still hadn't rung. It sat ominously, onyx black, tantalizing Lana from where she was in the dining room. Her eyes kept flitting to it, and Mary Eunice had noticed.
At first, the nun hadn't said anything, mostly because she knew the brunette was basically deaf when it came to moments like these. But as the clock ticked by on the wall, the reporter's dinner became cold, barely a bite eaten and Mary Eunice's eyebrows furrowed more and more as little sighs began escaping her Ravish Me Red lips. And yet Lana stared at the phone like it was a damned cobra escaped from the city zoo.
The blonde finally threw down her fork. "For fuck's sake, Lana."
"Mary, not now."
"Not now?" The nun spit out. "After all I've done for you, us, you can't even reward me with a word or two during dinner?"
"Look, I'm not trying to fight! I just want to know if I'm getting published or not, surely you understand that I want to get somewhere in life?" Lana yelled back, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Not everyone can be as successful as Mary Eunice McKee, New York's Mother Superior!"
The phone rang, echoing through the house.
Lana's dark eyes met Mary Eunice's. A smirk formed on the taller woman's lips.
"No, Mary, don't you dare-"
The nun stood up and ran for the phone, the reporter hot on her heels. She pushed Lana back with the palm of her hand and grabbed the receiver. Grinning, she put her ear to the black phone, her golden eyes blazing at the reporter.
"The McKee residence."
The brunette bit back an irritated groan.
Mary Eunice's fingernails dug into her lover's chest as she listened to the man on the other end of the line. "Have I read it? Of course I've read it, Miss Winters and I are incredibly close, friends and colleagues, I practically proofread the story myself." She paused. "Well, I can't speak for her, but I must say our thoughts on this are similar, she is telling our story, after all. I've been trying to shut down Briarcliff Manor for years, much to the dismay of Cardinal Howard. I'm hoping that with the emergence of her new book, the church will finally see all the harm this institution has done, I'm all for the good of the people, for the good word of the Lord. Yes, you may quote me on that." The blonde watched Lana out of the corner of her eye, satisfied with herself.
You fucker. Lana mouthed the words to the nun, who merely grinned back, feigning innocence.
"Is she here? Let me check." Mary Eunice dropped the receiver to her shoulder. "Lana, it's your editor. Shall I tell him you're in?"
"Give me the goddamn phone."
"Watch your language with him, men don't like pretty girls who swear." The blonde said, ice dripping from her words. She handed the phone to the reporter, holding it between thumb and forefinger, almost as if it were venomous.
Lana struggled to bring the receiver to her face, the cord tangling against her elbow. She watched Mary Eunice make her way back to the table.
"Yes, Lana Winters here."
The 'meeting' was short lived. Lana smacked the phone down as soon as it was over and marched to the dining room, stopping at the entrance to watch Mary Eunice, whose eyes were cast down at her lap as she fiddled with her fingers, acting as if nothing was wrong.
"First of all, how dare you, you could have screwed up everything."
The nun didn't look up, but even from where she was, the reporter could see the glint in her eyes.
"Second of all, the McKee residence?"
"It's my name on the lease." Mary Eunice sang out.
"You knew very well that was my editor."
"I'm sorry, next time I'll say I'm your secretary." The blonde pouted mockingly up at Lana. "And I'll tell him you're busy between my legs." She looked back down at her nails and raised an eyebrow. "Did you get it? The book deal?"
Lana sat down, defeated. She knew she wasn't about to win against the younger woman. "Yes."
"That's my girl." Mary Eunice smiled genuinely, a rare sight for the brunette. "We'll bring down Briarcliff together. We'll be heroes." She interlaced her fingers with Lana's. "Do you think Rome is nice this time of year?" She laughed. "Who am I kidding, it's nice all the time."
"Heroes." The brunette echoed bitterly, wrenching her hand away. "What kind of heroes are we, when we're our own villains?"
"Are you growing a conscience?" Mary Eunice asked, amused. "You didn't seem to mind our sabotage when the edition house picked you up."
"Don't you think it's wrong? Not even a little bit?" Lana asked, exasperated. "We've let that freak show of a place go on just to get somewhere in life."
"I don't think it's wrong. The world is a filthy place, Lana." The nun cocked her head to the side. "I'm just the devil pulling the strings. Simple as that. And now it's going to get shut down, after all. A little worse for wear, but why do you care? You're getting your Pulitzer."
She stood up only to straddle the brunette's lap. She pushed away Lana's wayward hair and placed a sweet kiss on the older woman's cheek, her lips lingering on the burning skin.
The reporter edged into the touch despite herself, a soft whimper escaping her lips.
"Do you love me?" Mary Eunice asked, her mouth ghosting over Lana's.
The brunette breathed out.
"Haven't I made all your dreams come true?" The blonde continued, her golden eyes fixed on her lover's dark ones. "Haven't I answered all your prayers?" Her fingers flitted over Lana's side, pausing to push against a scar the reporter had received years ago during one of their arguments. "Didn't you say you'd follow me into Hell itself?"
Lana bit her lip, her arms tightening their hold around Mary Eunice's waist.
The blonde whispered now in the reporter's ear. "You gave away your freedom to me. Don't forget it."
"I wouldn't dare."
The blonde, satisfied, stood up. She gave Lana a long look, one the brunette knew well to mean a night without sleep, and she began to walk away. "Don't let your luggage out of your sight, little devil, we're going to be travelling soon."
"Mary?"
The Mother Superior turned, golden eyes questioning.
"Yes." Lana said quietly. "I love you."
