Author: Elizabeth Wilde
Title: About Last Night
Series: Strange Bedfellows #1
Distribution: Anyone who has my fic, anyone who asks me for it
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Bloody Roar characters or the song "All I Wanna Do" by Sheryl Crow, much as I wish I did. I'm not making any money, and there's really no point in suing.
'Ship: none
Classification: comedy
Summary: Jenny gets Long drunk.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: none, really
Feedback: to vampire_slayer_d@2die4.com
"All I wanna do is have some fun, I've got a feeling I'm not the only one." ~Sheryl Crowe 'All I Wanna Do'
Jenny watched as the tall, musclular man tried to disappear into the bar's shadows. //The only person he's fooling is himself.// Each newcomer focused at least for a moment no the dark man. //He's completely oblivious to how he draws everyone in.// She watched his every movement, watched as he hunched his shoulders for the hundredth time and stared into his drink.
//Enough observation. I wanna play.// Squaring her shoulders, Jenny ran her hands over her tight blue jeans, white baby-t, and black vinyl jacket. //Showtime!// Her long, midnight hair feel straight almost to her slender waist. When Jenny reached the table, she leaned over enough to give the man a clear view down her shirt. "This seat taken?"
He glared up at her over his glasses. //John Lennon style... new look for him.// "Yes."
"Nice try." Jenny slid into the chair closest to him. "I'm not that easy to get rid of, Mr. Long."
His eyes widened in surprise. "How do you know my name?"
"Information is important in my line of work, Mr. Long... or may I call you Singh?"
"You may not." Clenching calloused fists, Long leaned back in his chair. "Who are you?"
"Everyone calls me Jenny."
"Is that your name?"
"Does it matter?"
"Perhaps not at the moment." She watched as Long scanned his memory. "The mercenary?"
"How sweet! You've heard of me." Jenny stared at him from under her dark lashes, secretly pleased at having a reputation to overcome. "But you shouldn't believe everything you hear."
Long nodded once in agreement. "Preconceptions are dangerous."
"So we understand each other... Good." Jenny's hand rested gently on Long's thigh. "It's been awhile since I've had some good... understanding."
"You won't be getting any... understanding... from me." He gripped her hand and moved it from his thigh.
"Where's your sense of adventure, Mr. Long?" When he didn't respond, Jenny leaned a bit closer. "When was the last time you let your guard down long enough to really enjoy life?"
For a moment, he looked into her brilliant green eyes. "In my experience, life is more about pain than pleasure."
She flinched and drew back, the hollow pain in his eyes more than she could bear. "You've obviously just never had the pleasure of spending tie with anyone as special as me. Look, I know your background. That's what drew me to you. You're so damn dark and brooding! You're different, unique. That intrigues me." Seeing no change in her companion, Jenny sighed. "Have a drink with me. What can it hurt?"
"It could reopen old wounds," he whispered, eyes searching the table.
Jenny put a red-tipped finger under Long's chin and lifted it. "You can't reopen wounds that haven't closed. Let yourself heal. You don't need to hide anymore, you know. It's over." She settled back in her chair.
"It won't ever be over while I can remember it."
"You're right. If you live in the past, there's no future." Anger enetered her tone for the first time. "Stop being such a fucking child, Long. You did bad things, saw bad things? You're a zoanthrope? Your life sucks? Boo hoo. Don't expect anyone to pity you. You pity yourself enough. Too much. Everyone wants to forget, and most of us can't. So we survive. And live." Jenny smiled at the waiter as he set down two mugs of beer and a pitcher. "Ready to live?"
Long glowered at Jenny, obviously stung but unwilling to admit it. "You think beer is going to solve my problems?"
"Hell no! But maybe you can forget for a few minutes, long enough to remember what it's like to be a functioning member of society."
"I never was one," he countered shortly.
Jenny shrugged. "Time you learned, then." Her bright green eyes never left Long as he raised his mug and took a gulp of beer. "See? Not so hard to do." She leaned closer again, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
-------------------
Thirty minutes and one beer later, Jenny began to wonder if Long had ever consumed alcohol before. His speech was slurred, his body language increasingly erratic, and he still hadn't noticed that Jenny had moved her chair until mere inches separated them. "How do you feel, Singh?"
Long blinked, squinted at her, then replied, "Fine. Jusht fine. No thanksh to you."
"Don't drink much, do you?" she guessed, nudging Long's drink just out of his reach.
"Never." He tried to look imperious and failed. "Dullsh the shenshesh."
"Uhm-hmm." Jenny held up three fingers. "How many?"
"Shix."
"Uhm-hmm. No wonder you don't drink." She shook her head. "At least you're relaxed."
Long's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You know what your problem ish?"
"What?"
"You're a bitch," he pronounced before pitching headfirst into her lap.
Jenny sighed. "This would be more fun if you were conscious and I were naked." Pushing him up and wrapping one muscular arm around her shoulders, Jenny rose. "C'mon, handsome, we're going back to my place."
-----------------------------------------
Long stirred, groaned, and opened his eyes. Looking down, he saw that he wore only his black silk boxer shorts, felt his hair free of its tie. He groaned again.
"Good morning to you too." Jenny strolled toward the bed wearing a surprisingly conservative white cotton nightgown.
"Where are my clothes, my-" he spotted his glasses on the bedside table and decided to finish the questioning there.
"They're hanging up drying. I washed them," she added, sitting down beside him.
Long forced his protesting body into a sitting position and held his head in his hands. "Why?"
"You puked all over them. And me, thank you very much." She smirked. "I left you on the couch, changed, showered, then tossed our clothes into the wash. Then," Jenny continued before Long could say anything, "I put you in the shower. You're heavier than you look."
"Oh, God," Long moaned.
"Don't worry, the boxers stayed the whole time. I even dumped some mouthwash down your throat."
"What else happened?" he asked, fearing her reply.
"Well, you growled at me when I put you in bed," Jenny responded with a smile. "I kind of liked that part."
Weakly, Long asked, "Then?"
"Then nothing. I slept on the couch." Her smile dimmed a little, her expression more serious. "I flirt a lot, I make a show, but I'm not that bad, okay?" Jenny rose and half-smiled at Long, pushing her hair back with one hand. "I just wanted you to know. I've gotta dress and go. I have a job in an hour. Modeling." She grabbed some clothes and slipped into the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later in jeans and a loose t-shirt. Her hair hung down from a high ponytail and her face was clear of make-up. "Stay as long as you need. There's aspirin in there and the shower. Just lock up if you leave before I get back."
He watched her walk out of the room, still in a state of mild shock. "Thank you," he called.
Jenny appeared briefly in the doorway. "You owe me, Singh." She winked and walked away.
Title: About Last Night
Series: Strange Bedfellows #1
Distribution: Anyone who has my fic, anyone who asks me for it
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Bloody Roar characters or the song "All I Wanna Do" by Sheryl Crow, much as I wish I did. I'm not making any money, and there's really no point in suing.
'Ship: none
Classification: comedy
Summary: Jenny gets Long drunk.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: none, really
Feedback: to vampire_slayer_d@2die4.com
"All I wanna do is have some fun, I've got a feeling I'm not the only one." ~Sheryl Crowe 'All I Wanna Do'
Jenny watched as the tall, musclular man tried to disappear into the bar's shadows. //The only person he's fooling is himself.// Each newcomer focused at least for a moment no the dark man. //He's completely oblivious to how he draws everyone in.// She watched his every movement, watched as he hunched his shoulders for the hundredth time and stared into his drink.
//Enough observation. I wanna play.// Squaring her shoulders, Jenny ran her hands over her tight blue jeans, white baby-t, and black vinyl jacket. //Showtime!// Her long, midnight hair feel straight almost to her slender waist. When Jenny reached the table, she leaned over enough to give the man a clear view down her shirt. "This seat taken?"
He glared up at her over his glasses. //John Lennon style... new look for him.// "Yes."
"Nice try." Jenny slid into the chair closest to him. "I'm not that easy to get rid of, Mr. Long."
His eyes widened in surprise. "How do you know my name?"
"Information is important in my line of work, Mr. Long... or may I call you Singh?"
"You may not." Clenching calloused fists, Long leaned back in his chair. "Who are you?"
"Everyone calls me Jenny."
"Is that your name?"
"Does it matter?"
"Perhaps not at the moment." She watched as Long scanned his memory. "The mercenary?"
"How sweet! You've heard of me." Jenny stared at him from under her dark lashes, secretly pleased at having a reputation to overcome. "But you shouldn't believe everything you hear."
Long nodded once in agreement. "Preconceptions are dangerous."
"So we understand each other... Good." Jenny's hand rested gently on Long's thigh. "It's been awhile since I've had some good... understanding."
"You won't be getting any... understanding... from me." He gripped her hand and moved it from his thigh.
"Where's your sense of adventure, Mr. Long?" When he didn't respond, Jenny leaned a bit closer. "When was the last time you let your guard down long enough to really enjoy life?"
For a moment, he looked into her brilliant green eyes. "In my experience, life is more about pain than pleasure."
She flinched and drew back, the hollow pain in his eyes more than she could bear. "You've obviously just never had the pleasure of spending tie with anyone as special as me. Look, I know your background. That's what drew me to you. You're so damn dark and brooding! You're different, unique. That intrigues me." Seeing no change in her companion, Jenny sighed. "Have a drink with me. What can it hurt?"
"It could reopen old wounds," he whispered, eyes searching the table.
Jenny put a red-tipped finger under Long's chin and lifted it. "You can't reopen wounds that haven't closed. Let yourself heal. You don't need to hide anymore, you know. It's over." She settled back in her chair.
"It won't ever be over while I can remember it."
"You're right. If you live in the past, there's no future." Anger enetered her tone for the first time. "Stop being such a fucking child, Long. You did bad things, saw bad things? You're a zoanthrope? Your life sucks? Boo hoo. Don't expect anyone to pity you. You pity yourself enough. Too much. Everyone wants to forget, and most of us can't. So we survive. And live." Jenny smiled at the waiter as he set down two mugs of beer and a pitcher. "Ready to live?"
Long glowered at Jenny, obviously stung but unwilling to admit it. "You think beer is going to solve my problems?"
"Hell no! But maybe you can forget for a few minutes, long enough to remember what it's like to be a functioning member of society."
"I never was one," he countered shortly.
Jenny shrugged. "Time you learned, then." Her bright green eyes never left Long as he raised his mug and took a gulp of beer. "See? Not so hard to do." She leaned closer again, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
-------------------
Thirty minutes and one beer later, Jenny began to wonder if Long had ever consumed alcohol before. His speech was slurred, his body language increasingly erratic, and he still hadn't noticed that Jenny had moved her chair until mere inches separated them. "How do you feel, Singh?"
Long blinked, squinted at her, then replied, "Fine. Jusht fine. No thanksh to you."
"Don't drink much, do you?" she guessed, nudging Long's drink just out of his reach.
"Never." He tried to look imperious and failed. "Dullsh the shenshesh."
"Uhm-hmm." Jenny held up three fingers. "How many?"
"Shix."
"Uhm-hmm. No wonder you don't drink." She shook her head. "At least you're relaxed."
Long's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You know what your problem ish?"
"What?"
"You're a bitch," he pronounced before pitching headfirst into her lap.
Jenny sighed. "This would be more fun if you were conscious and I were naked." Pushing him up and wrapping one muscular arm around her shoulders, Jenny rose. "C'mon, handsome, we're going back to my place."
-----------------------------------------
Long stirred, groaned, and opened his eyes. Looking down, he saw that he wore only his black silk boxer shorts, felt his hair free of its tie. He groaned again.
"Good morning to you too." Jenny strolled toward the bed wearing a surprisingly conservative white cotton nightgown.
"Where are my clothes, my-" he spotted his glasses on the bedside table and decided to finish the questioning there.
"They're hanging up drying. I washed them," she added, sitting down beside him.
Long forced his protesting body into a sitting position and held his head in his hands. "Why?"
"You puked all over them. And me, thank you very much." She smirked. "I left you on the couch, changed, showered, then tossed our clothes into the wash. Then," Jenny continued before Long could say anything, "I put you in the shower. You're heavier than you look."
"Oh, God," Long moaned.
"Don't worry, the boxers stayed the whole time. I even dumped some mouthwash down your throat."
"What else happened?" he asked, fearing her reply.
"Well, you growled at me when I put you in bed," Jenny responded with a smile. "I kind of liked that part."
Weakly, Long asked, "Then?"
"Then nothing. I slept on the couch." Her smile dimmed a little, her expression more serious. "I flirt a lot, I make a show, but I'm not that bad, okay?" Jenny rose and half-smiled at Long, pushing her hair back with one hand. "I just wanted you to know. I've gotta dress and go. I have a job in an hour. Modeling." She grabbed some clothes and slipped into the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later in jeans and a loose t-shirt. Her hair hung down from a high ponytail and her face was clear of make-up. "Stay as long as you need. There's aspirin in there and the shower. Just lock up if you leave before I get back."
He watched her walk out of the room, still in a state of mild shock. "Thank you," he called.
Jenny appeared briefly in the doorway. "You owe me, Singh." She winked and walked away.