How Life's Rivers Flow

By Vampire-knows

Lupo

Lobo drove home without me, too caught up in his own need to go call Loup that he didn't question where I was going. Max and Ari piled into Weston's little truck with him and Aidan, and the rest parted the way they had came. Which just left me to climb into the passenger's side of Iggy's convertible.

He drove back to his place, neither of us saying a word. He was wearing a new pair of sunglasses, his last ones sitting on my windowsill at home from when I stole the car in the first place.

I sighed, eyes getting lost in the passing scenery as I thought.

I should have told Max my brother had a girlfriend when she first asked me. That was a bitch move. Bitchier than my usual standard, anyway. Loup would probably beat me if she knew I had done that, though it's not like she would actually do any damage. It wasn't that she couldn't hurt a fly, only that she simply wouldn't.

We eventually pulled into Iggy's driveway and headed inside. He broke off, telling me to wait right there in the living room while he went to do something. All was quiet for a moment before I heard the speakers built into the walls turn on and suddenly a sound that immediately made me cringe came through.

It was my voice from about a year and a half ago along with my acoustic guitar, the sound itself not as terrible as the actual words of the song I had written. He had definitely found the CD I had shoved into Baby's glove compartment so long ago.

Hey baby

I'm the kind of girl that hangs with the guys

Like a fly on the wall with the secret eyes

Takin it in tryin to be feminine

With my makeup bag watchin all the sin

Iggy came into the room with a big grin on his face, trying to hold back laughter. I sighed, kind of wanting to crawl into a hole and die, but I powered through enough to block out the music that he had luckily turned down and give him a playful smirk, "So, why did you bring me here?"

He moved up close to me, lips pressed to my ear, "Take off your shirt." I did so, pulling the tank top off and looking at him for my next order. "No go do my laundry."


Iggy was in the kitchen cooking something that smelled delicious and that he hopefully made enough for me. Meanwhile, I was back in the laundry room taking his clothes out of the dryer. I folded all of his jeans first, then finished the shirts, and was starting to work on his variety of underwear when I got an idea.

I reached over to the drawer next to the machines, hoping what I wanted was in there so that I didn't have to go sneaking around to look for them. And they were.

Sitting on top of everything in the drawer were a pair of green scissors, sharp and perfect for fabric.

If I wasn't going to get the second main reason I took this deal for a while, then he'd have to deal with the chaffing of going commando in jeans.


I took my time putting Iggy's clothes up, or what were left of them. First I hung up the shirts in his closet, but then I had to find the drawer for his jeans in the dresser. I opened the bottom drawer first, coming face to face with a stack of Playboys that was somehow bigger and smaller than expected.

The next drawer held a bunch of little trinkets, miscellaneous stuff that I probably would only understand if I was him. Sitting among them was a picture in a broken frame. It was a little Iggy, eyes bright and grin almost too big to fit his face, with what looked like what was probably his mother.

I turned the frame over, opening it up to see if anything was written on the back of the picture. There wasn't, so I put the frame back together and set it where it had been, moving on to the next drawer where I finally found the rest of his shorts and pants.


I joined Iggy downstairs, still topless, only to find him messing with the console that controlled the music in the living room. "Having technical issues?"

"No, I just don't want to hear your horrible sound equipment anymore," he answered, taking his view away from the console only to get an eyeful of my torso before turning his attention back. I opened my mouth to retort, though I really had nothing, but I was halted by the sound of a timer going off. He groaned, "Go get that out of the oven for me."

I didn't know how to tell him how horrible of an idea that was. So, instead, I just decided to do as he said. Maybe it wouldn't be as bad this time. Maybe this oven would like me.

The oven was nice and bright and stainless. It sparkled in the lights and seemed very happy and content with its life. But as soon as I grabbed the handle with one hand and opened it, the other ready with an oven mitt, its look turned evil and dark.

Just as I reached for the pan of what looked like lasagna, the oven made a grinding noise loud enough to make me jump. And that's when the fire started. I flew back, the lasagna flying out of my hand and straight into the flames, making it bigger in ridiculously quick fashion. The flames spread out of the mouth and over the top of the stove, and I just watched in amazement as the oven that hated me so much (like the all did) destroyed itself.

Iggy ran into the room, fire extinguisher in hand, and began to put out the fire. But it was too late. The oven was injured enough. It probably wouldn't make it through this fight.

After the stove was efficiently covered in foam, Iggy turned to me, a look of disbelief on his face. I smiled sheepishly, batting my eyelashes as I tried to come up with a solution.

"So… uh… Chinese takeout?" He didn't respond, just staring at me for the longest time. "Why are you not saying anything?'

"You broke my brand new oven, you burnt my lasagna, and then you had the GUTS to mention Chinese," he uttered a little squeak, bringing a hand up to his mouth before holding it out with his palm to me, "I can't even say it. Go put your shirt back on, you are so unattractive right now."