Hiya, This is me, Eileen Blazer and I have a short pre-story. Well,
about a week ago, I was quietly working on the chapter, halfway through
it, when my friends came over and demanded I accompany them to the
Happiest Place on Earth. I told them no. They sighed, told me how
disappointed they were and offered me a drink. The next thing I know, I
waking up (bound and gagged, BTW) and halfway to the magic kingdom. I
offered them money and all my earthly possesions (except for my
computer) in exchange for my freedom. They offered me another drink.
Needless to say, I ended up in the Happiest Place on Earth for a week
and only just got back yesterday. Sorry. This is dedicated to my new
favorite shuttle driver. *_* Now on with the show.
Eileenblzr@yahoo.com
Symbiosis Chapter 3
"Gaahh!" -Bridget Jone's, Edge of Reason
Darien was halfway to the bedroom when he realized Serena wasn't
following him. He stopped and turned, and saw her clutching the side of
the couch as though it contained the last drops of a very good
squeeze-it.
"I think it's dead already." She looked at him, confused, before
glancing at her hands. A furious blush ignited on her face and
reluctantly, Serena parted with the furniture and shuffled over to a
waiting Darien.
"I was uh, overswept with pain when I thought of having to share a room
with you and I needed *something* to take my frustration out on."
Darien's eyes indicated an internal battle. No doubt some part of him
was trying to lash out with his typical dry commentery while another,
sleepy part begged him to just let it go. Finally he shrugged it off.
"Come on, Serena, I still have to work tomorrow."
The blonde shrank back from his touch, frantically looking for an
escape. There had to be a way. She could say she was nocturnal! Yeah,
that's it! Ever since that vampire bat bit her...or maybe she could say
she had a regular excersise routine, that included midnight sit-ups and
a very early morning jog through the park! The ideas started flooding
in, each one better than the last. But alas, when Darien took another
step closer, all thoughts fled.
With a big sigh, Serena realized what she had to do. Suck it up, deal
with it,...and make a wild dash for the bathroom.
Once inside her temporary haven, the blonde relaxed. She had time.
Sure, there was a confused, tired man waiting for her on the other
side, but she still had time.
And there seemed to be two options open for her.
One, she could act like a rational young lady and calmly explain the
truth to Darien, or, she could paint her face and feign sickness! The
choice was obvious. After silently thanking the girl from Upper
Sandusky (ever see That Touch of Mink?), Serena scanned the room for
anything of color and finally had to settle for a tube of toothpaste,
some old cough medicine, and a bag of yellow M&Ms (which she had
fortunately carried along in her pocket).
Hmmm. The paste made for an easy to smear consistency, and the orange
liquid and yellow candy served as good dye. Within minutes, she was
painting a glob of pale gunk on her face. When she was through, a
glance in the mirror made her heart soar.
She was hideous. Absolutley terrible to look at. On a scale of O to 10,
10, she was -3.67. The yellow gunk clung to her face and gave her an
awful, near death pallor. Serena had never felt so lucky.
Creaking the door open, she stuck her head out. "Darien, are you
there?"
"MmmHmm" came the slurred answer.
"I don't feel so well."
"That's nice."
"Dar-i-en. I said I'm sick! Don't you even care!"
Oh so slowly, Darien forced himself awake. He'd been ready to let her
just stay in there all night but now... "What's the matter?"
"I just don't feel right." The would-be doctor groaned. Right then, he
would-be asleep if not for her. He'd have to make a note of that for
the essay. As Darien approached Serena, he imagined that she might
actually be sick and not just attempting to drive him mad. His mind
entertained the thought that he would find her shaking and feverish.
He found her covered in oddly colored toothpaste.
She seemed nervous about something though he couldn't imagine what. But
the fight in him had drifted off to sleep, leaving only submissive
Darien to cope with a crazy teenager. He decided to play along. "Oh my
God, Serena. What the hell happened to you? Should I call a doctor?"
Serena smiled happily. "No need. I saw Ami's mom about this just this
afternoon. She said my color will return in a week or so and I'm not
*that* contagious."
"Right. So, what do you think we should do now? If you're so
contagious, I mean."
She pretended to think hard. "Well...it's probably best if I sleep in
the room alone tonight. Wouldn't want two sick people, would we?"
Darien was already unfolding a blanket on the couch.
"Goodnight, Serena."
Joy made its way even through the cracks of her hardening, fake face.
She was saved from anymore awkward situtations. With one last
triumphant grin, Serena spun around and opened the door and then she
saw...two beds, set up I-Love-Lucy style.
The exhuastion hit *her* then, and she fell onto a bed like a sack of
potatoes.
****************
The morning found Serena awakening to the smell of bacon and eggs. She
rose and slipped into the bathroom. Washing the gunk away was actually
easy, most had dried and fallen off itself. That was a good thing,
since she wanted to eat as soon as possible.
Inside the kitchen, Darien was wearing an apron, and skillfully
flipping an omelet onto it's other side. "Good morning, wife." He
grinned a little upon seeing her dissheveled appearance and made a
mental note to add that to his essay too.
Her mind was occupied by other thoughts. The egg, cheese, and ham
aromas hit her at once, enticing her with their dance. Couldn't Darien
hear the food chanting 'eat me, eat me, eat me'? She must have been
drooling, but she didn't care. Her mother was a pancake person and it'd
been years since she's devoured an omelet!
"Can I have some of that?"
He gave her a strange look. "Well, it is *your* breakfast. I guess you
can have some."
"Aren't you gonna eat too?"
Darien shook his head. "Nope. I had a granola bar this morning. That's
enough for me."
"But I'm getting an omelet."
"That's the plan."
Now she stared at him. New ideas had begun to enter her head. Why was
he too good for his own food? Because, a voice answered, he doesn't
want to get fat. You, on the other hand, are easier than Hansel and
Gretel to fatten up. Next thing you know, he'll be handing you a shovel
instead of a spoon.
Ooh, ooh, added a new voice, I've heard about husbands who fatten up
their wives as a security precaution.
Serena gasped. "How could you!"
For someone as sensible as Darien, Serena's mood change was extremely
bizzare. One minute she's staring at the food like its her first meal
in ages and the next, she's glaring at him as though she had laser
vision. He frowned. "How could I what?"
"How dare you try to fatten me up so that no other man would want me!"
"WHAT?" Had she really just said that? Darien paused, wondering if she
realized the absurdity of her accusation. Serena, even Darien would
admit, was beautiful. She was svelte, despite her appetite, and
graceful when she wasn't rushing. Her face was a perfect blend of
porcelain and cream, with ruby lips and wide set, sparkling blue eyes.
Her hair, ever long and golden, fell upon her like a halo, giving her
an angelic, ethereal look.
Wait a minute. Where had that come from? Darien shook his head, as he
always did when trying to erase thoughts. This was Meatball Head, his
arch enemy. Heck, he *should* be trying to fatten her up.
"Why would I do that?"
"So that no one would look twice at me."
"But they always have to look twice at you. Once when they see you
approach and once when you crash on the floor. Commom decency, you
know."
"Oh, so its kinda like why they talk to you."
He lifted the plate to her. "So you don't want your food?" Darien
sighed. "I'll have to throw it all away. All of this hot, piping, egg
and ham omelet, touched off with just a hint of pepper and salsa." He
waved the plate back and forth, trying to hypnotize her. Unfortunatly,
she'd been insulted and not even food could make her forget it.
"No thank you, I have no interest in becoming a fat, unattractive wife
that watches her husband like a hawk because she's afraid to lose him
and thinks she won't be able to find anyone new and ends up on Jerry
Springer when she discovers he's been having an affair with the
waitress at Shingles who happens to be my long lost sister/neice."
Eyes couldn't roll any higher than they did on Darien at that moment.
Chucking the contents of the plate in the garbage, he came up to stand
by her. "Let's cut back on the TV intake, okay? And let's eliminate the
trash all together. No more Jerry for you." He patted her shoulder and
with a free hand got her a granola bar. "Here. A nice healthy breakfast
that will keep you as thin as always."
"Thank you Darien." She leaned forward to accept the bar, not realizing
she was dangerously close to his face. It didn't take long for that
knowledge to seep in. Not with his breath tickling her skin, and his
tempest-like eyes searing through her, and his soft looking lips oh so
close to her. "Thank you..." She whispered again.
"Your welcome." But neither moved away. They seemed to be getting
closer, closer to some special moment that would surpass all others
with its sheer magic and someone was about to cue the music, when the
alarm on Darien's watch rang and startled, he pulled away. "I'm late
for work. Seeya tonight."
Serena watched him grab his coat and briefcase and suddenly frowned.
"Wait a minute. You're *leaving*? But...but...but what am I going to do
while you're gone?"
Darien smiled at her. "Wifely duties, of course. I think there is a
sink full of dishes."
He was gone before the pillow could hit him. It hit a vase instead.
"Darnit!"
**********************************
Serena poked the black and gray bag before her, and wondered which
button turned the thing on. The switchy one adjusted the handle. The
tiny one opened a little door, and the square one released the bag (and
since it took her a long time to put the bag back on, she vowed never
to touch that one again). That left only the red one. Covering her
eyes, she pressed.
Nothing happened. Okay, she thought, maybe it was broken.
Maybe she'd forgotten to plug it back in. After doing so, she tried
again. It roared to life and off she went, vaccuming the house!
Now it wasn't like she was too dumb to work the vacuum cleaner, or too
spoiled to ever have used it, but that was Sammy's job! Perhaps they
could hire a maid. Darien could afford it.
Serena leaned back against the door and blew a stray strand of blonde
hair out of her face. Or at least tried to. It flopped back, right
between her eyes. It was the last straw, considering the ironing,
folding, and dusting (let's hope Darien was too attached to that frame)
incidents.
"Aaahhh! I can't take it anymore! No more cleaning!"
The lid of a pot clinked. The water was boiling. As she retreated to
the kitchen a single thought comforted her. 'It couldn't possibly be as
bad as cleaning'
**************************
Darien found her lying on her back in the kitchen. White clouds blurred
his vision, but her humming was unmistakable.
"Serena? What happened in here?" A plastic dish clattered to the floor
and he tried to sidestep it, lest it ruin his pants. He stepped in a
bowl of *something liquid* instead. "Serena?"
"Darien, is that you? Are you home?" Came a soft voice.
"No I'm still at work. And thank God for that because what the hell
happened here!?!"
"Dinner."
"All right." He avoided collision with a glob of dough-like substance.
"Maybe I should ask how."
"It's better to not know."
He decided to take her word for it. If the spilled punch on her clothes
(for he was now close enough to see), and the goo stuck in her hair was
any indication at all, it was a story he never wanted to hear.
"Serena, why don't you go take a shower. I'll start cleaning and you
can help me when your done." A small squeal escaped from her lips but
she did as he asked. She could only faintly hear his voice as she left
the room.
"By the way, my boss gave me a brilliant idea."
about a week ago, I was quietly working on the chapter, halfway through
it, when my friends came over and demanded I accompany them to the
Happiest Place on Earth. I told them no. They sighed, told me how
disappointed they were and offered me a drink. The next thing I know, I
waking up (bound and gagged, BTW) and halfway to the magic kingdom. I
offered them money and all my earthly possesions (except for my
computer) in exchange for my freedom. They offered me another drink.
Needless to say, I ended up in the Happiest Place on Earth for a week
and only just got back yesterday. Sorry. This is dedicated to my new
favorite shuttle driver. *_* Now on with the show.
Eileenblzr@yahoo.com
Symbiosis Chapter 3
"Gaahh!" -Bridget Jone's, Edge of Reason
Darien was halfway to the bedroom when he realized Serena wasn't
following him. He stopped and turned, and saw her clutching the side of
the couch as though it contained the last drops of a very good
squeeze-it.
"I think it's dead already." She looked at him, confused, before
glancing at her hands. A furious blush ignited on her face and
reluctantly, Serena parted with the furniture and shuffled over to a
waiting Darien.
"I was uh, overswept with pain when I thought of having to share a room
with you and I needed *something* to take my frustration out on."
Darien's eyes indicated an internal battle. No doubt some part of him
was trying to lash out with his typical dry commentery while another,
sleepy part begged him to just let it go. Finally he shrugged it off.
"Come on, Serena, I still have to work tomorrow."
The blonde shrank back from his touch, frantically looking for an
escape. There had to be a way. She could say she was nocturnal! Yeah,
that's it! Ever since that vampire bat bit her...or maybe she could say
she had a regular excersise routine, that included midnight sit-ups and
a very early morning jog through the park! The ideas started flooding
in, each one better than the last. But alas, when Darien took another
step closer, all thoughts fled.
With a big sigh, Serena realized what she had to do. Suck it up, deal
with it,...and make a wild dash for the bathroom.
Once inside her temporary haven, the blonde relaxed. She had time.
Sure, there was a confused, tired man waiting for her on the other
side, but she still had time.
And there seemed to be two options open for her.
One, she could act like a rational young lady and calmly explain the
truth to Darien, or, she could paint her face and feign sickness! The
choice was obvious. After silently thanking the girl from Upper
Sandusky (ever see That Touch of Mink?), Serena scanned the room for
anything of color and finally had to settle for a tube of toothpaste,
some old cough medicine, and a bag of yellow M&Ms (which she had
fortunately carried along in her pocket).
Hmmm. The paste made for an easy to smear consistency, and the orange
liquid and yellow candy served as good dye. Within minutes, she was
painting a glob of pale gunk on her face. When she was through, a
glance in the mirror made her heart soar.
She was hideous. Absolutley terrible to look at. On a scale of O to 10,
10, she was -3.67. The yellow gunk clung to her face and gave her an
awful, near death pallor. Serena had never felt so lucky.
Creaking the door open, she stuck her head out. "Darien, are you
there?"
"MmmHmm" came the slurred answer.
"I don't feel so well."
"That's nice."
"Dar-i-en. I said I'm sick! Don't you even care!"
Oh so slowly, Darien forced himself awake. He'd been ready to let her
just stay in there all night but now... "What's the matter?"
"I just don't feel right." The would-be doctor groaned. Right then, he
would-be asleep if not for her. He'd have to make a note of that for
the essay. As Darien approached Serena, he imagined that she might
actually be sick and not just attempting to drive him mad. His mind
entertained the thought that he would find her shaking and feverish.
He found her covered in oddly colored toothpaste.
She seemed nervous about something though he couldn't imagine what. But
the fight in him had drifted off to sleep, leaving only submissive
Darien to cope with a crazy teenager. He decided to play along. "Oh my
God, Serena. What the hell happened to you? Should I call a doctor?"
Serena smiled happily. "No need. I saw Ami's mom about this just this
afternoon. She said my color will return in a week or so and I'm not
*that* contagious."
"Right. So, what do you think we should do now? If you're so
contagious, I mean."
She pretended to think hard. "Well...it's probably best if I sleep in
the room alone tonight. Wouldn't want two sick people, would we?"
Darien was already unfolding a blanket on the couch.
"Goodnight, Serena."
Joy made its way even through the cracks of her hardening, fake face.
She was saved from anymore awkward situtations. With one last
triumphant grin, Serena spun around and opened the door and then she
saw...two beds, set up I-Love-Lucy style.
The exhuastion hit *her* then, and she fell onto a bed like a sack of
potatoes.
****************
The morning found Serena awakening to the smell of bacon and eggs. She
rose and slipped into the bathroom. Washing the gunk away was actually
easy, most had dried and fallen off itself. That was a good thing,
since she wanted to eat as soon as possible.
Inside the kitchen, Darien was wearing an apron, and skillfully
flipping an omelet onto it's other side. "Good morning, wife." He
grinned a little upon seeing her dissheveled appearance and made a
mental note to add that to his essay too.
Her mind was occupied by other thoughts. The egg, cheese, and ham
aromas hit her at once, enticing her with their dance. Couldn't Darien
hear the food chanting 'eat me, eat me, eat me'? She must have been
drooling, but she didn't care. Her mother was a pancake person and it'd
been years since she's devoured an omelet!
"Can I have some of that?"
He gave her a strange look. "Well, it is *your* breakfast. I guess you
can have some."
"Aren't you gonna eat too?"
Darien shook his head. "Nope. I had a granola bar this morning. That's
enough for me."
"But I'm getting an omelet."
"That's the plan."
Now she stared at him. New ideas had begun to enter her head. Why was
he too good for his own food? Because, a voice answered, he doesn't
want to get fat. You, on the other hand, are easier than Hansel and
Gretel to fatten up. Next thing you know, he'll be handing you a shovel
instead of a spoon.
Ooh, ooh, added a new voice, I've heard about husbands who fatten up
their wives as a security precaution.
Serena gasped. "How could you!"
For someone as sensible as Darien, Serena's mood change was extremely
bizzare. One minute she's staring at the food like its her first meal
in ages and the next, she's glaring at him as though she had laser
vision. He frowned. "How could I what?"
"How dare you try to fatten me up so that no other man would want me!"
"WHAT?" Had she really just said that? Darien paused, wondering if she
realized the absurdity of her accusation. Serena, even Darien would
admit, was beautiful. She was svelte, despite her appetite, and
graceful when she wasn't rushing. Her face was a perfect blend of
porcelain and cream, with ruby lips and wide set, sparkling blue eyes.
Her hair, ever long and golden, fell upon her like a halo, giving her
an angelic, ethereal look.
Wait a minute. Where had that come from? Darien shook his head, as he
always did when trying to erase thoughts. This was Meatball Head, his
arch enemy. Heck, he *should* be trying to fatten her up.
"Why would I do that?"
"So that no one would look twice at me."
"But they always have to look twice at you. Once when they see you
approach and once when you crash on the floor. Commom decency, you
know."
"Oh, so its kinda like why they talk to you."
He lifted the plate to her. "So you don't want your food?" Darien
sighed. "I'll have to throw it all away. All of this hot, piping, egg
and ham omelet, touched off with just a hint of pepper and salsa." He
waved the plate back and forth, trying to hypnotize her. Unfortunatly,
she'd been insulted and not even food could make her forget it.
"No thank you, I have no interest in becoming a fat, unattractive wife
that watches her husband like a hawk because she's afraid to lose him
and thinks she won't be able to find anyone new and ends up on Jerry
Springer when she discovers he's been having an affair with the
waitress at Shingles who happens to be my long lost sister/neice."
Eyes couldn't roll any higher than they did on Darien at that moment.
Chucking the contents of the plate in the garbage, he came up to stand
by her. "Let's cut back on the TV intake, okay? And let's eliminate the
trash all together. No more Jerry for you." He patted her shoulder and
with a free hand got her a granola bar. "Here. A nice healthy breakfast
that will keep you as thin as always."
"Thank you Darien." She leaned forward to accept the bar, not realizing
she was dangerously close to his face. It didn't take long for that
knowledge to seep in. Not with his breath tickling her skin, and his
tempest-like eyes searing through her, and his soft looking lips oh so
close to her. "Thank you..." She whispered again.
"Your welcome." But neither moved away. They seemed to be getting
closer, closer to some special moment that would surpass all others
with its sheer magic and someone was about to cue the music, when the
alarm on Darien's watch rang and startled, he pulled away. "I'm late
for work. Seeya tonight."
Serena watched him grab his coat and briefcase and suddenly frowned.
"Wait a minute. You're *leaving*? But...but...but what am I going to do
while you're gone?"
Darien smiled at her. "Wifely duties, of course. I think there is a
sink full of dishes."
He was gone before the pillow could hit him. It hit a vase instead.
"Darnit!"
**********************************
Serena poked the black and gray bag before her, and wondered which
button turned the thing on. The switchy one adjusted the handle. The
tiny one opened a little door, and the square one released the bag (and
since it took her a long time to put the bag back on, she vowed never
to touch that one again). That left only the red one. Covering her
eyes, she pressed.
Nothing happened. Okay, she thought, maybe it was broken.
Maybe she'd forgotten to plug it back in. After doing so, she tried
again. It roared to life and off she went, vaccuming the house!
Now it wasn't like she was too dumb to work the vacuum cleaner, or too
spoiled to ever have used it, but that was Sammy's job! Perhaps they
could hire a maid. Darien could afford it.
Serena leaned back against the door and blew a stray strand of blonde
hair out of her face. Or at least tried to. It flopped back, right
between her eyes. It was the last straw, considering the ironing,
folding, and dusting (let's hope Darien was too attached to that frame)
incidents.
"Aaahhh! I can't take it anymore! No more cleaning!"
The lid of a pot clinked. The water was boiling. As she retreated to
the kitchen a single thought comforted her. 'It couldn't possibly be as
bad as cleaning'
**************************
Darien found her lying on her back in the kitchen. White clouds blurred
his vision, but her humming was unmistakable.
"Serena? What happened in here?" A plastic dish clattered to the floor
and he tried to sidestep it, lest it ruin his pants. He stepped in a
bowl of *something liquid* instead. "Serena?"
"Darien, is that you? Are you home?" Came a soft voice.
"No I'm still at work. And thank God for that because what the hell
happened here!?!"
"Dinner."
"All right." He avoided collision with a glob of dough-like substance.
"Maybe I should ask how."
"It's better to not know."
He decided to take her word for it. If the spilled punch on her clothes
(for he was now close enough to see), and the goo stuck in her hair was
any indication at all, it was a story he never wanted to hear.
"Serena, why don't you go take a shower. I'll start cleaning and you
can help me when your done." A small squeal escaped from her lips but
she did as he asked. She could only faintly hear his voice as she left
the room.
"By the way, my boss gave me a brilliant idea."