A/N: Standard disclaimer…he no mine. Me no know he. Him is purdie. OB
soon…I promise!
1 Chapter Three
From the Beginning
Hortense awoke the next morning, feeling rather out of sorts.
"Jet lag's a bitch" she muttered, slowly falling out of the huge, four-poster bed and array of covers and pillows she had managed to mutilate during the night. Checking the clock, she groaned. She heard someone outside her door and stumbled to her feet.
"Lis?"
"Horty! You're finally up! You've slept through almost the entire day!" Lisa exclaimed. Hortense blinked.
"What?"
"It's three in the afternoon!" she exclaimed with a smile.
"How can you be so energetic?"
Lisa held up a can of Moutain Dew.
"Caffeine is a good thing," Lisa said with a perfectly white smile. Hortense raised an eyebrow.
"Point me in the direction of sugar," she said with a wry smile. Lisa laughed and grabbed her friend's hand, leading her towards the spiral staircase at the end of the hallway. The entire building was like something out of an old movie. Huge windows and grand, spiraling staircases, detail everywhere, Hortense decided she could spend a week just looking around the resort.
"So, what are we doing today?" Hortense managed after a huge cup of coffee.
"Well, you need to help me with my script…then, Uncle Willie wants to take us surfing!" Lisa exclaimed happily.
"Surfing? Really? Oh geez…" Hortense sighed. She had never been very good at sports. She could run with the rest of them, but her eye-hand coordination needed work. Dancing, especially, was a bit of a stretch for her. She had a reputation for causing physical pain to her partners if they weren't careful.
"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine!" Lisa said casually, taking another sip of her Mountain Dew. Hortense arched an eyebrow. Surfing…she could barely stand on a skateboard.
***
"Eu te amo, você hunk do homem, você hunk manly de amor ardente. Faça exame de me agora!"* Lisa exclaimed, staring at her feet. Hortense nodded.
"Você máquina ardente do amor! Eu te amo mais do que a vida!"*she said, reading the script. Lisa nodded.
"I'll never get this…" she sighed.
"You've got most of it! Just one more line…"
There was a pause as Lisa studied her fingernails.
"O amor é como uma vela ardente, e eu queimei-me! Beije-me você tolo! Eu amo um homem finnish!"* she exclaimed passionately. The housekeeper, Bea, incidentally knew a little Portuguese. Apparently, she had briefly dated a Portuguese professional wrestler, but had split up only recently because he decided he needed more of a commitment. She wasn't willing to sire a child to the wrestling tradition. But was quite happy to be in New Zealand and busied herself with sitting around, watching soaps, and smoking like a chimney. Every now and then she would get out the vacuum, curse at it, and run it over the same rug for a few minutes.
At that moment, Uncle Willie came crashing into the kitchen, sawdust all over his shirt, a grin on his face. He was overseeing the reconstruction of the resort with a team of builders and a general racket pervaded the area.
"Suit-up ladies! We're hitting the beach!" he exclaimed.
***
Hortense eyed the waves wearily. Lisa was already plunging towards the surf, board tucked under her arm.
"So…here I am," she muttered to no one in particular. Her surfboard was still in the sand. She looked at it and sighed. This would not be pretty. With a sigh, she picked it up and rambled towards the surf, in no hurry. There were other surfers already out in the waves, happily going about their business. She hoped she didn't make a complete and total fool of herself, but figured it was probably too late. Uncle Willie beaconed her towards where he and Lisa were standing, waist high, in the water.
"Alright…so…what do I do?" she asked evenly, as the board bobbed up and down on the waves. Lisa giggled and started to go through an explanation, Uncle Willie adding things here and there.
"Ok…er…so…uh…I just…get on like this?" she questioned, flopping onto the board. Lisa nodded and did the same, but with a certain grace that Hortense seemed to lack.
"And then, you go like this," Lisa said, paddling towards the waves. Hortense balked.
"Oh dear," she whispered, following her friend. No sooner did the first wave come, than Hortense was sprawled in the water, legs and arms flailing.
"I can't surf!" she gurgled. Lisa giggled and tried to reach a hand to help her friend.
"Give it another chance, you'll get it," Uncle Willie said, propping the 23 year old on her feet.
"Alright," Hortense conceded. Again, she flopped onto the board. This time, she made it through about two waves (still on her stomach, arms and legs latched onto the sides of the board) before plunging into the ocean's depths.
Lisa sighed.
"Hortense, I think you truly are hopeless," she sighed, arching one perfectly plucked eyebrow delicately. Hortense gurgled something and flopped the wet, tangled hair plastered to her face out of her way.
"You're supportive," she mumbled.
"Maybe surfing just isn't you thing?"
"Yeah, whatever," Hortense said, getting to her feet, board bobbing happily beside her.
"I think it would be better to get to land, hm?"
"Whatever," Hortense muttered again. She figured a sour disposition was her prerogative.
It was at that moment, as a wet, defeated, tired woman stepped onto soggy, awkward sand that fate decided to throw Hortense Adams a curve ball.
"I hate surfing!" she screeched.
"Typing?"
Hortense wheeled around.
"No…surfing."
"It sounded rather like typing."
"Well, I meant surfing…" Hortense said awkwardly. Standing before her was a tall, lanky brown-eyed man with a mohawk. He was smirking and looked to be enjoying her discomfort. Standing up straighter, she met his gaze and tried desperately to repress the blush spreading across her face.
"Surfing. I said surfing," she tried with a shaky breath.
"Surfing? But why?" he returned, a strange light dancing in his eyes.
"Because…because it's detrimental to one's health, don't you know? You could drown…and all that flailing, well, it's enough to cause one to pull a muscle, or worse! Break a bone! In fact you could even hit your head on the surfboard, and then, where would you be?!" Hortense explained, draping a towel around her body.
"Hit your head on the surfboard?" he questioned.
"Yes! Of course…it probably happens all the time!"
Hortense squirmed under his gaze but refused to look away. He arched a perfect eyebrow and let out a small chuckle.
"You're one of those girls that quits the first time she tries something…" he said with a sigh. Hortense straightened indignantly.
"What?"
"It's true, isn't it?"
"It most certainly is not! And you're rather rude, aren't you?"
"I'm only speaking the truth."
"Well…well…well…I don't care…you're still rude! Excuse me," she blubbered, trying to walk past him. His laughter continued to ring in her ear as she sought the comfort of a beach umbrella.
"Well he was certainly a bastard," Hortense gurgled.
"Who?" Lisa questioned, sitting down. She started to pull on her bikini, her golden blond hair somehow already dry in the sun.
"Some…some guy," she answered.
"Name?"
"Don't know. I never found out. In fact, I'd very much rather not know…in fact I don't want to meet him ever again!n ha HA! That'll show him…won't it…yes…" she let out a sigh.
"What on earth happened?" Lisa questioned with a musical giggle.
"Nothing big…I was just being a big dork and rather by chance, some rude bastard overheard me screeching…and…decided to have a little fun. I'm such a loser!" Hortense sighed dramatically.
"I already knew that. In fact, I shouldn't even be hanging around you, it's bad for my reputation! Come on, stop sulking, I bet he doesn't even remember."
Hortense smiled.
"No. Probably not."
Well? R/R please!
1 Chapter Three
From the Beginning
Hortense awoke the next morning, feeling rather out of sorts.
"Jet lag's a bitch" she muttered, slowly falling out of the huge, four-poster bed and array of covers and pillows she had managed to mutilate during the night. Checking the clock, she groaned. She heard someone outside her door and stumbled to her feet.
"Lis?"
"Horty! You're finally up! You've slept through almost the entire day!" Lisa exclaimed. Hortense blinked.
"What?"
"It's three in the afternoon!" she exclaimed with a smile.
"How can you be so energetic?"
Lisa held up a can of Moutain Dew.
"Caffeine is a good thing," Lisa said with a perfectly white smile. Hortense raised an eyebrow.
"Point me in the direction of sugar," she said with a wry smile. Lisa laughed and grabbed her friend's hand, leading her towards the spiral staircase at the end of the hallway. The entire building was like something out of an old movie. Huge windows and grand, spiraling staircases, detail everywhere, Hortense decided she could spend a week just looking around the resort.
"So, what are we doing today?" Hortense managed after a huge cup of coffee.
"Well, you need to help me with my script…then, Uncle Willie wants to take us surfing!" Lisa exclaimed happily.
"Surfing? Really? Oh geez…" Hortense sighed. She had never been very good at sports. She could run with the rest of them, but her eye-hand coordination needed work. Dancing, especially, was a bit of a stretch for her. She had a reputation for causing physical pain to her partners if they weren't careful.
"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine!" Lisa said casually, taking another sip of her Mountain Dew. Hortense arched an eyebrow. Surfing…she could barely stand on a skateboard.
***
"Eu te amo, você hunk do homem, você hunk manly de amor ardente. Faça exame de me agora!"* Lisa exclaimed, staring at her feet. Hortense nodded.
"Você máquina ardente do amor! Eu te amo mais do que a vida!"*she said, reading the script. Lisa nodded.
"I'll never get this…" she sighed.
"You've got most of it! Just one more line…"
There was a pause as Lisa studied her fingernails.
"O amor é como uma vela ardente, e eu queimei-me! Beije-me você tolo! Eu amo um homem finnish!"* she exclaimed passionately. The housekeeper, Bea, incidentally knew a little Portuguese. Apparently, she had briefly dated a Portuguese professional wrestler, but had split up only recently because he decided he needed more of a commitment. She wasn't willing to sire a child to the wrestling tradition. But was quite happy to be in New Zealand and busied herself with sitting around, watching soaps, and smoking like a chimney. Every now and then she would get out the vacuum, curse at it, and run it over the same rug for a few minutes.
At that moment, Uncle Willie came crashing into the kitchen, sawdust all over his shirt, a grin on his face. He was overseeing the reconstruction of the resort with a team of builders and a general racket pervaded the area.
"Suit-up ladies! We're hitting the beach!" he exclaimed.
***
Hortense eyed the waves wearily. Lisa was already plunging towards the surf, board tucked under her arm.
"So…here I am," she muttered to no one in particular. Her surfboard was still in the sand. She looked at it and sighed. This would not be pretty. With a sigh, she picked it up and rambled towards the surf, in no hurry. There were other surfers already out in the waves, happily going about their business. She hoped she didn't make a complete and total fool of herself, but figured it was probably too late. Uncle Willie beaconed her towards where he and Lisa were standing, waist high, in the water.
"Alright…so…what do I do?" she asked evenly, as the board bobbed up and down on the waves. Lisa giggled and started to go through an explanation, Uncle Willie adding things here and there.
"Ok…er…so…uh…I just…get on like this?" she questioned, flopping onto the board. Lisa nodded and did the same, but with a certain grace that Hortense seemed to lack.
"And then, you go like this," Lisa said, paddling towards the waves. Hortense balked.
"Oh dear," she whispered, following her friend. No sooner did the first wave come, than Hortense was sprawled in the water, legs and arms flailing.
"I can't surf!" she gurgled. Lisa giggled and tried to reach a hand to help her friend.
"Give it another chance, you'll get it," Uncle Willie said, propping the 23 year old on her feet.
"Alright," Hortense conceded. Again, she flopped onto the board. This time, she made it through about two waves (still on her stomach, arms and legs latched onto the sides of the board) before plunging into the ocean's depths.
Lisa sighed.
"Hortense, I think you truly are hopeless," she sighed, arching one perfectly plucked eyebrow delicately. Hortense gurgled something and flopped the wet, tangled hair plastered to her face out of her way.
"You're supportive," she mumbled.
"Maybe surfing just isn't you thing?"
"Yeah, whatever," Hortense said, getting to her feet, board bobbing happily beside her.
"I think it would be better to get to land, hm?"
"Whatever," Hortense muttered again. She figured a sour disposition was her prerogative.
It was at that moment, as a wet, defeated, tired woman stepped onto soggy, awkward sand that fate decided to throw Hortense Adams a curve ball.
"I hate surfing!" she screeched.
"Typing?"
Hortense wheeled around.
"No…surfing."
"It sounded rather like typing."
"Well, I meant surfing…" Hortense said awkwardly. Standing before her was a tall, lanky brown-eyed man with a mohawk. He was smirking and looked to be enjoying her discomfort. Standing up straighter, she met his gaze and tried desperately to repress the blush spreading across her face.
"Surfing. I said surfing," she tried with a shaky breath.
"Surfing? But why?" he returned, a strange light dancing in his eyes.
"Because…because it's detrimental to one's health, don't you know? You could drown…and all that flailing, well, it's enough to cause one to pull a muscle, or worse! Break a bone! In fact you could even hit your head on the surfboard, and then, where would you be?!" Hortense explained, draping a towel around her body.
"Hit your head on the surfboard?" he questioned.
"Yes! Of course…it probably happens all the time!"
Hortense squirmed under his gaze but refused to look away. He arched a perfect eyebrow and let out a small chuckle.
"You're one of those girls that quits the first time she tries something…" he said with a sigh. Hortense straightened indignantly.
"What?"
"It's true, isn't it?"
"It most certainly is not! And you're rather rude, aren't you?"
"I'm only speaking the truth."
"Well…well…well…I don't care…you're still rude! Excuse me," she blubbered, trying to walk past him. His laughter continued to ring in her ear as she sought the comfort of a beach umbrella.
"Well he was certainly a bastard," Hortense gurgled.
"Who?" Lisa questioned, sitting down. She started to pull on her bikini, her golden blond hair somehow already dry in the sun.
"Some…some guy," she answered.
"Name?"
"Don't know. I never found out. In fact, I'd very much rather not know…in fact I don't want to meet him ever again!n ha HA! That'll show him…won't it…yes…" she let out a sigh.
"What on earth happened?" Lisa questioned with a musical giggle.
"Nothing big…I was just being a big dork and rather by chance, some rude bastard overheard me screeching…and…decided to have a little fun. I'm such a loser!" Hortense sighed dramatically.
"I already knew that. In fact, I shouldn't even be hanging around you, it's bad for my reputation! Come on, stop sulking, I bet he doesn't even remember."
Hortense smiled.
"No. Probably not."
Well? R/R please!