Title: A Butterfly In Japan IV: Make Me Lose Control
Rating: PG
Spoilers: At the most, for "Chaos Theory." (yes, I'm kicking it old school), and the other stories in my Butterfly in Japan stories.
Archive: Yes please.
Disclaimer: In my twisted mind, yes, they're mine. In the rest of the world (which isn't nearly as interesting as my mind), I own nothing.
Feedback: Smashing.
Author's Notes: Look out below!
My message is really depressing.
Okay, let me clarify. My answering machine message is really depressing. I don't personally have some kind of public message that I find to be horribly depressing.
But the message is just so flat and monotone. "Hi, this is Abby. I'm not here. Leave a message."
See? Depressing. I sound really...blah. Like I'm not really expecting anyone to call me or something, so why bother with something more interesting.
Not that I want to do some sort of song and dance number for my answering machine, but something that doesn't sound like I'm sadly kicking cans down the street would be nice.
It occurred to me, though, when I called to check my messages from the hospital. I had to listen to my message before I could hear anything else, and I almost wanted to jump off a ledge just listening to it.
Well, that's a little over dramatic, but it was still pretty bad.
So, I told Carter that I was going back to my place instead of his, because I had some things to do, but suggested that he come visit when he got off work.
However, changing my answering machine message wasn't all I had to do.
No, I had bigger fish to fry than changing my message.
Bigger fish as in calling my mother.
She had left me a few messages, and since I've been spending so much time at Carter's lately, I didn't really think about checking to see if anyone had called. So, I figured I should give her a call before she sent out the hounds.
And we had The Talk. Well, maybe not The Talk, but at least A Talk.
I figured, as my mother, she should know that I have a boyfriend, and not to be alarmed if she should call and a man answers the phone.
She was really happy for me, though. Especially when I told her that Carter's my boyfriend. I'd say she was downright ecstatic. She's always had a soft-spot where he's concerned. I think she's always wanted me to hook-up with him.
Oh, God. Hook-up? I've been listening to Susan too much.
But, we talked for a while about me and Carter, how we got together, how things were going with us, even where I saw this relationship going. It was a very strange experience for me, talking to my mother about my life like that. We've had very few conversations of that ilk in the past. It was kind of nice, though. It really felt like she was my mom.
Her main concern was my happiness. She said that as long as I was happy, that was all that mattered. She need not worry, because I've never been this happy in my life.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love the early stages of a relationship?
Anyway, I'm now attempting to think of some way to make my message a tad more upbeat. I've already tried several times, and they all come out sounding the same as the original. Maybe it's just my imagination.
I'm in the middle of trying again when I hear the door creak open. I look over my shoulder, and there stands Carter, of course. He gives me a grin and drops his bag on the floor.
"Hey there," he says, wandering over to the couch and flopping down.
"Hi," I answer, returning the smile, then realize that I'm still holding down the record button on the machine. I release it, and it lets out several loud beeps, letting me know that the message has been saved.
"What're you up to?" he asks, casting a curious glance at the machine.
I shrug, and walk over to the couch. "My message sounded really depressing, so I decided to change it." I lean over the back of the couch and give him a kiss. "How was the rest of your shift?" He gets up so he's sitting on his knees so I don't have to lean over so far. "The usual. Pretty boring, actually. Especially since you weren't there for the last few hours of it and I had no one to flirt with."
"You could have flirted with Frank. I think he has the hots for you, anyway."
"Yeah, I've always suspected that he wants my body."
I giggle softly (yes, I giggle) and press my lips to his once more.
"Oh, yeah. I talked to my mom today."
"How's she doing?"
"Really well. Taking her meds everyday, going to work, taking care of her dog, living a normal life, as far as I can tell. We had a Talk, though."
"Uh-oh," he says, sitting back down. "That doesn't sound good."
"Not that kind of talk. This was the one where I told her not to worry if a man answers the phone because I now have a boyfriend."
I don't miss the smile that plays over his lips as I call him my boyfriend. Even after a month and a half, we still like hearing someone say that he's my boyfriend or I'm his girlfriend, even if it's just one of us saying it to the other.
"How'd she take the news?"
"About how I expected."
He looks a little puzzled. "Did she take it badly?"
"Well, if you call being ecstatic 'badly,' then yes. She took it very badly."
"She was ecstatic?"
"Oh, definitely. You know she's always had a special place for you in her heart. And she's been telling me since she met you that we should be together. So now she can rest easy. Though I did notice a distinct 'told you so' tone in her voice."
Carter just grins. "Well, I'm glad I have the Maggie seal of approval."
I just roll my eyes. "As if there was ever any doubt."
He pulls on my arm a little, and I bend down again. He puts his hand on the back of my head and kisses me once more. The bad part about being away from him, even for a few hours, is that I don't get to kiss him. The good part about being away from him is that we make up for it.
"Okay," he tells me. "Go finish the message thing. I'll still be here for you to molest once you're done."
I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes again. I try to average one eye roll per five minute block-anything more than that seems to annoy him. "Yeah, 'cause you know I can't keep my hands off of you."
He just waggles his eyebrows at me suggestively. "And who was sitting on whose lap in the lounge today?"
I reach out and rumple his hair, making him swat at my hands. "I sit on your lap because if we did it the other way around, you would crush me."
"I never hear you complain when I'm on top of you for other reasons."
I know I'm blushing. I don't know why I'm blushing, but I know my face is red. "I have more important things on my mind than worrying about you crushing me when we're in that situation." I start to move away from the couch, mainly so he can't see that he somehow managed to make me blush. But he grabs my arm before I can get very far.
"Such as?"
"Stroking your ego, telling you that you're a stallion, and you're amazing, and then the obligatory moaning and groaning so I don't hurt your feelings."
He looks crushed, but I know he's faking it. "You've wounded me, Abby. You've wounded me deep." He's even clutching at his heart for emphasis.
I lean down and give him one more quick kiss before disentangling myself. "Don't quit your day job, Carter; you're not much of an actor."
"That's it. Kick me while I'm down. You know, I don't have to take this kind of abuse."
"And yet, for some reason, you do."
"I know. I'm a masochist."
I shake my head and move back to the answering machine. I press the record button and say, "Hi, this is Abby, I'm not-" and then I pause. I turn around slowly and see that Carter is just sitting there, watching me.
"Yes?" "Nothin'."
"Well, don't watch me while I'm doing this. It makes me too self- conscious."
He throws his hands up in surrender and heads toward the bedroom. I watch him until he's out of my line of sight, knowing I'm being irrational about this. It's just a stupid message.
I go to press the record button and realize that I never released it to begin with. I sigh, release the button, let it beep, then press it again. "Hi, you've reached Abby-"
I'm interrupted by "Let's Get It On" suddenly blaring through my apartment. I jump in surprise, and whip around to find Carter standing by my stereo, a devilish grin on his face.
"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"
He doesn't deny it; he just grins even bigger, but at least he turns off the music.
I turn around once more, smiling to myself because the thought of having that song playing in the background of my answering machine is actually pretty funny, and tempting, to some degree, and repeat the now-familiar process with my answering machine, and begin again. "Hi, this is Abby, I can't come to-"
This time I'm interrupted by Barry White's "You're My First, My Last, My Everything." I didn't even remember I had this kind of music until just now.
I don't turn around this time. "John..."
I can just picture the innocent look on his face. "Yes?"
"If you don't knock it off, I'm going to tie your hands down."
"Promises, promises."
I slowly walk over to my stereo and resist the urge to rip the plug out of the wall. I still find it funny, but it's a matter of principle now. And I'm not really mad at Carter, but he has a habit of acting like he's ten at times, which is usually kind of endearing. Instead, I just hit the power button and give him a look.
He hangs his head and looks at me from under his eyelashes. "I'll be good," he mumbles, shuffling his feet for effect.
"Somehow, I doubt that,"I answer, going back over to my phone. It really shouldn't be this hard to tell people that I'm not at home.
I try it again, though. "This is Abby-"
"And her love slave John Carter."
How the hell did he get behind me? I thought he was still standing across the room. The man must have feet like a cat.
"No way," I tell him, even though by this point I'm trying my best not to laugh. It'll only encourage him.
He knows, though. He just grins and waits for me try again. I cover his mouth with one hand, and press the record button with the other.
"Hi, you've reached Abby Lockhart, I'm not here right now, but if-"
Now I'm paranoid because he's being too quiet. I keep expecting him to do something new. I look over at him again, and he's simply standing there, looking innocent.
"Well?" I ask.
He pulls his mouth away from my hand. "Well, what? I was behaving. I didn't do anything this time."
"You can't blame me for being suspicious."
"I can't believe you don't trust your own boyfriend."
I just raise my eyebrows at him.
"Okay, fine, maybe I can."
I sigh and turn back to the phone to try it one more time. "Hi, you've reached Abby-"
"And John."
I look over my shoulder at him. "No, you don't live here. You just hang around and mooch off of me."
"You know you love it."
I look back to the machine and realize that once again I've forgotten to stop recording. For whatever reason, I decide to try to finish out the message, even though I know I'll have to fix it again. Maybe I want to actually be able to finish one, even if it's unusable.
"Anyway, I'm not home right now-" "We're not home right now."
I chose to ignore him.
"So leave your-"
"Or maybe I have her chained to the bed."
My head whips around and I yelp out, "Carter!"
He just grins at me cheekily. "Sorry. Forgot that was our little secret."
I think I flare my nostrils at him. "Fine. We're not home right now, so leave a message and we'll get back to you."
He just shrugs and says, "See? Now was that so hard?"
I finally release the record button and just look at him. "You know, all I want out of life right now is to record a new message. I really don't think I'm asking for so much."
"What're you talking about? You just recorded your message."
"I can't keep that!"
"Why not?"
"It's...it's..." What is it, really? "It's goofy."
"So what?"
"Well, what if someone important calls or something?"
He just looks at me like I've grown another head. "Again, so what? It's a message on an answering machine. Half the time, they're goofy. Much goofier than that. Besides, I think it's cute." He reaches around me and presses the preview button so he can hear it again.
"Hi, you've reached Abby-"
"And John."
"No, you don't live here. You just hang around and mooch off of me."
"You know you love it."
"Anyway, I'm not home right now-" "We're not home right now."
"So leave your-"
"Or maybe I have her chained to the bed."
"Carter!"
"Sorry. Forgot that was our little secret."
"Fine, we're not home right now, so leave a message and we'll get back to you."
"See? Now was that so hard?"
Carter smiles at me. "I think it's great. You should definitely keep it."
"How would you like it if I left a message like that at your apartment?"
He shrugged. "I wouldn't care. I think it'd be kind of fun, actually."
I can't resist him. He may be annoying at times, but...I can't resist him. I lean up and give him a quick kiss. "Fine. Then we'll leave a goofy message at your place tomorrow or something." I reach over to hit record again, when he grabs my arm, turns me around, puts me over his shoulder. Well, this is new.
"Nah. I think you should leave it like that for a while," he tells me, carrying me in the direction of my bedroom.
"Uh, Carter? Would you mind putting me down?" I'm still kind of shocked, which is probably why I'm not really struggling.
"Gladly," he answers, and then he's lowering me onto the bed. He kneels in front of me and starts kissing my neck.
Not that I'm complaining, but...what the hell is going on here? "What're you doing?" Obviously, I'm not too distressed by his actions since I tilt my head to one side so he has better access.
"Trying to distract you. Is it working?"
That's one way of putting it. I think the message can wait. I scoot back on the bed, trying to pull him with me as he moves his lips up to my mouth. It takes a moment of fumbling and sliding around a bit, but we finally make it to a lying down position.
No, I'm definitely not complaining about his weight on me now.
I don't know how long we stay like that, though we don't get much beyond kissing and some light groping. I vaguely hear the phone ring in some distant corner of my mind, and know I should worry about it, but can't for the life of me remember why.
And then I hear the message click on. What are the odds, really, that someone would call in the brief time frame that I've decided to keep that message? I frantically pull my mouth away from Carter's and try to push him off of me.
"What's wrong?" he asks, looking concerned, moving to let me up.
"The message!" I push myself out of bed, somehow managing to remember that the only way to stop the answering machine is to actually go and stop it- answering the phone won't work.
All of a sudden, his arms are around my waist and he's pulling me back to him. "Relax. It's just a message."
"But..."
But before I can complete that thought, the message is over and I hear nothing. Is it too much to hope for that whoever it was hung up before they heard the whole message? Apparently, because now I can hear someone laughing on the other end. Oh, God. It's my mother. Didn't I just talk to her?
I put my hands over my face and moan. It doesn't help any that Carter's laughing, too.
I finally hear my mom's voice. "Umm...I was going to tell you something else, but it must've slipped my mind. I'll call back later."
"Well, it's probably a good thing you told her about us today, isn't it?"
I roll over and look at my chortling boyfriend. "You are so dead."
"Hey, it could've been worse. Just imagine if my parents had heard that one."
"That's not the point. I don't want my mother hearing about you chaining me to the bed, regardless of whether or not it's true. There are just some things better left unsaid."
"I think she knows it's a joke, Abby." He leans over and starts kissing my neck again. Damn him. "Don't worry about it; you can't change it now."
It's not going to work this time. He's not going to distract me. I'm going to go right now and change that message. Then I turn my head so I can kiss him.
Maybe later.
Right now...I have bigger fish to fry.
Author's Notes: Okay, crazy shout outs to C-dawg, who has been an enormous help to me with this story. This is the first time I've hashed out a story with someone, ever. And she totally kept me grounded, even though I struggle to flap my little wings. And, I have to give a shout out to the other member of the Brothel, Alex, if for no other reason than the fact that she rocks, and she's one of my Thursday night buddies. As to where this story came from, I was tired of writing angst. I needed something light and fluffy and pointless, and this idea came to me at 2:30 in the morning when I was running on no sleep. If nothing else, it made me laugh.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: At the most, for "Chaos Theory." (yes, I'm kicking it old school), and the other stories in my Butterfly in Japan stories.
Archive: Yes please.
Disclaimer: In my twisted mind, yes, they're mine. In the rest of the world (which isn't nearly as interesting as my mind), I own nothing.
Feedback: Smashing.
Author's Notes: Look out below!
My message is really depressing.
Okay, let me clarify. My answering machine message is really depressing. I don't personally have some kind of public message that I find to be horribly depressing.
But the message is just so flat and monotone. "Hi, this is Abby. I'm not here. Leave a message."
See? Depressing. I sound really...blah. Like I'm not really expecting anyone to call me or something, so why bother with something more interesting.
Not that I want to do some sort of song and dance number for my answering machine, but something that doesn't sound like I'm sadly kicking cans down the street would be nice.
It occurred to me, though, when I called to check my messages from the hospital. I had to listen to my message before I could hear anything else, and I almost wanted to jump off a ledge just listening to it.
Well, that's a little over dramatic, but it was still pretty bad.
So, I told Carter that I was going back to my place instead of his, because I had some things to do, but suggested that he come visit when he got off work.
However, changing my answering machine message wasn't all I had to do.
No, I had bigger fish to fry than changing my message.
Bigger fish as in calling my mother.
She had left me a few messages, and since I've been spending so much time at Carter's lately, I didn't really think about checking to see if anyone had called. So, I figured I should give her a call before she sent out the hounds.
And we had The Talk. Well, maybe not The Talk, but at least A Talk.
I figured, as my mother, she should know that I have a boyfriend, and not to be alarmed if she should call and a man answers the phone.
She was really happy for me, though. Especially when I told her that Carter's my boyfriend. I'd say she was downright ecstatic. She's always had a soft-spot where he's concerned. I think she's always wanted me to hook-up with him.
Oh, God. Hook-up? I've been listening to Susan too much.
But, we talked for a while about me and Carter, how we got together, how things were going with us, even where I saw this relationship going. It was a very strange experience for me, talking to my mother about my life like that. We've had very few conversations of that ilk in the past. It was kind of nice, though. It really felt like she was my mom.
Her main concern was my happiness. She said that as long as I was happy, that was all that mattered. She need not worry, because I've never been this happy in my life.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love the early stages of a relationship?
Anyway, I'm now attempting to think of some way to make my message a tad more upbeat. I've already tried several times, and they all come out sounding the same as the original. Maybe it's just my imagination.
I'm in the middle of trying again when I hear the door creak open. I look over my shoulder, and there stands Carter, of course. He gives me a grin and drops his bag on the floor.
"Hey there," he says, wandering over to the couch and flopping down.
"Hi," I answer, returning the smile, then realize that I'm still holding down the record button on the machine. I release it, and it lets out several loud beeps, letting me know that the message has been saved.
"What're you up to?" he asks, casting a curious glance at the machine.
I shrug, and walk over to the couch. "My message sounded really depressing, so I decided to change it." I lean over the back of the couch and give him a kiss. "How was the rest of your shift?" He gets up so he's sitting on his knees so I don't have to lean over so far. "The usual. Pretty boring, actually. Especially since you weren't there for the last few hours of it and I had no one to flirt with."
"You could have flirted with Frank. I think he has the hots for you, anyway."
"Yeah, I've always suspected that he wants my body."
I giggle softly (yes, I giggle) and press my lips to his once more.
"Oh, yeah. I talked to my mom today."
"How's she doing?"
"Really well. Taking her meds everyday, going to work, taking care of her dog, living a normal life, as far as I can tell. We had a Talk, though."
"Uh-oh," he says, sitting back down. "That doesn't sound good."
"Not that kind of talk. This was the one where I told her not to worry if a man answers the phone because I now have a boyfriend."
I don't miss the smile that plays over his lips as I call him my boyfriend. Even after a month and a half, we still like hearing someone say that he's my boyfriend or I'm his girlfriend, even if it's just one of us saying it to the other.
"How'd she take the news?"
"About how I expected."
He looks a little puzzled. "Did she take it badly?"
"Well, if you call being ecstatic 'badly,' then yes. She took it very badly."
"She was ecstatic?"
"Oh, definitely. You know she's always had a special place for you in her heart. And she's been telling me since she met you that we should be together. So now she can rest easy. Though I did notice a distinct 'told you so' tone in her voice."
Carter just grins. "Well, I'm glad I have the Maggie seal of approval."
I just roll my eyes. "As if there was ever any doubt."
He pulls on my arm a little, and I bend down again. He puts his hand on the back of my head and kisses me once more. The bad part about being away from him, even for a few hours, is that I don't get to kiss him. The good part about being away from him is that we make up for it.
"Okay," he tells me. "Go finish the message thing. I'll still be here for you to molest once you're done."
I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes again. I try to average one eye roll per five minute block-anything more than that seems to annoy him. "Yeah, 'cause you know I can't keep my hands off of you."
He just waggles his eyebrows at me suggestively. "And who was sitting on whose lap in the lounge today?"
I reach out and rumple his hair, making him swat at my hands. "I sit on your lap because if we did it the other way around, you would crush me."
"I never hear you complain when I'm on top of you for other reasons."
I know I'm blushing. I don't know why I'm blushing, but I know my face is red. "I have more important things on my mind than worrying about you crushing me when we're in that situation." I start to move away from the couch, mainly so he can't see that he somehow managed to make me blush. But he grabs my arm before I can get very far.
"Such as?"
"Stroking your ego, telling you that you're a stallion, and you're amazing, and then the obligatory moaning and groaning so I don't hurt your feelings."
He looks crushed, but I know he's faking it. "You've wounded me, Abby. You've wounded me deep." He's even clutching at his heart for emphasis.
I lean down and give him one more quick kiss before disentangling myself. "Don't quit your day job, Carter; you're not much of an actor."
"That's it. Kick me while I'm down. You know, I don't have to take this kind of abuse."
"And yet, for some reason, you do."
"I know. I'm a masochist."
I shake my head and move back to the answering machine. I press the record button and say, "Hi, this is Abby, I'm not-" and then I pause. I turn around slowly and see that Carter is just sitting there, watching me.
"Yes?" "Nothin'."
"Well, don't watch me while I'm doing this. It makes me too self- conscious."
He throws his hands up in surrender and heads toward the bedroom. I watch him until he's out of my line of sight, knowing I'm being irrational about this. It's just a stupid message.
I go to press the record button and realize that I never released it to begin with. I sigh, release the button, let it beep, then press it again. "Hi, you've reached Abby-"
I'm interrupted by "Let's Get It On" suddenly blaring through my apartment. I jump in surprise, and whip around to find Carter standing by my stereo, a devilish grin on his face.
"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"
He doesn't deny it; he just grins even bigger, but at least he turns off the music.
I turn around once more, smiling to myself because the thought of having that song playing in the background of my answering machine is actually pretty funny, and tempting, to some degree, and repeat the now-familiar process with my answering machine, and begin again. "Hi, this is Abby, I can't come to-"
This time I'm interrupted by Barry White's "You're My First, My Last, My Everything." I didn't even remember I had this kind of music until just now.
I don't turn around this time. "John..."
I can just picture the innocent look on his face. "Yes?"
"If you don't knock it off, I'm going to tie your hands down."
"Promises, promises."
I slowly walk over to my stereo and resist the urge to rip the plug out of the wall. I still find it funny, but it's a matter of principle now. And I'm not really mad at Carter, but he has a habit of acting like he's ten at times, which is usually kind of endearing. Instead, I just hit the power button and give him a look.
He hangs his head and looks at me from under his eyelashes. "I'll be good," he mumbles, shuffling his feet for effect.
"Somehow, I doubt that,"I answer, going back over to my phone. It really shouldn't be this hard to tell people that I'm not at home.
I try it again, though. "This is Abby-"
"And her love slave John Carter."
How the hell did he get behind me? I thought he was still standing across the room. The man must have feet like a cat.
"No way," I tell him, even though by this point I'm trying my best not to laugh. It'll only encourage him.
He knows, though. He just grins and waits for me try again. I cover his mouth with one hand, and press the record button with the other.
"Hi, you've reached Abby Lockhart, I'm not here right now, but if-"
Now I'm paranoid because he's being too quiet. I keep expecting him to do something new. I look over at him again, and he's simply standing there, looking innocent.
"Well?" I ask.
He pulls his mouth away from my hand. "Well, what? I was behaving. I didn't do anything this time."
"You can't blame me for being suspicious."
"I can't believe you don't trust your own boyfriend."
I just raise my eyebrows at him.
"Okay, fine, maybe I can."
I sigh and turn back to the phone to try it one more time. "Hi, you've reached Abby-"
"And John."
I look over my shoulder at him. "No, you don't live here. You just hang around and mooch off of me."
"You know you love it."
I look back to the machine and realize that once again I've forgotten to stop recording. For whatever reason, I decide to try to finish out the message, even though I know I'll have to fix it again. Maybe I want to actually be able to finish one, even if it's unusable.
"Anyway, I'm not home right now-" "We're not home right now."
I chose to ignore him.
"So leave your-"
"Or maybe I have her chained to the bed."
My head whips around and I yelp out, "Carter!"
He just grins at me cheekily. "Sorry. Forgot that was our little secret."
I think I flare my nostrils at him. "Fine. We're not home right now, so leave a message and we'll get back to you."
He just shrugs and says, "See? Now was that so hard?"
I finally release the record button and just look at him. "You know, all I want out of life right now is to record a new message. I really don't think I'm asking for so much."
"What're you talking about? You just recorded your message."
"I can't keep that!"
"Why not?"
"It's...it's..." What is it, really? "It's goofy."
"So what?"
"Well, what if someone important calls or something?"
He just looks at me like I've grown another head. "Again, so what? It's a message on an answering machine. Half the time, they're goofy. Much goofier than that. Besides, I think it's cute." He reaches around me and presses the preview button so he can hear it again.
"Hi, you've reached Abby-"
"And John."
"No, you don't live here. You just hang around and mooch off of me."
"You know you love it."
"Anyway, I'm not home right now-" "We're not home right now."
"So leave your-"
"Or maybe I have her chained to the bed."
"Carter!"
"Sorry. Forgot that was our little secret."
"Fine, we're not home right now, so leave a message and we'll get back to you."
"See? Now was that so hard?"
Carter smiles at me. "I think it's great. You should definitely keep it."
"How would you like it if I left a message like that at your apartment?"
He shrugged. "I wouldn't care. I think it'd be kind of fun, actually."
I can't resist him. He may be annoying at times, but...I can't resist him. I lean up and give him a quick kiss. "Fine. Then we'll leave a goofy message at your place tomorrow or something." I reach over to hit record again, when he grabs my arm, turns me around, puts me over his shoulder. Well, this is new.
"Nah. I think you should leave it like that for a while," he tells me, carrying me in the direction of my bedroom.
"Uh, Carter? Would you mind putting me down?" I'm still kind of shocked, which is probably why I'm not really struggling.
"Gladly," he answers, and then he's lowering me onto the bed. He kneels in front of me and starts kissing my neck.
Not that I'm complaining, but...what the hell is going on here? "What're you doing?" Obviously, I'm not too distressed by his actions since I tilt my head to one side so he has better access.
"Trying to distract you. Is it working?"
That's one way of putting it. I think the message can wait. I scoot back on the bed, trying to pull him with me as he moves his lips up to my mouth. It takes a moment of fumbling and sliding around a bit, but we finally make it to a lying down position.
No, I'm definitely not complaining about his weight on me now.
I don't know how long we stay like that, though we don't get much beyond kissing and some light groping. I vaguely hear the phone ring in some distant corner of my mind, and know I should worry about it, but can't for the life of me remember why.
And then I hear the message click on. What are the odds, really, that someone would call in the brief time frame that I've decided to keep that message? I frantically pull my mouth away from Carter's and try to push him off of me.
"What's wrong?" he asks, looking concerned, moving to let me up.
"The message!" I push myself out of bed, somehow managing to remember that the only way to stop the answering machine is to actually go and stop it- answering the phone won't work.
All of a sudden, his arms are around my waist and he's pulling me back to him. "Relax. It's just a message."
"But..."
But before I can complete that thought, the message is over and I hear nothing. Is it too much to hope for that whoever it was hung up before they heard the whole message? Apparently, because now I can hear someone laughing on the other end. Oh, God. It's my mother. Didn't I just talk to her?
I put my hands over my face and moan. It doesn't help any that Carter's laughing, too.
I finally hear my mom's voice. "Umm...I was going to tell you something else, but it must've slipped my mind. I'll call back later."
"Well, it's probably a good thing you told her about us today, isn't it?"
I roll over and look at my chortling boyfriend. "You are so dead."
"Hey, it could've been worse. Just imagine if my parents had heard that one."
"That's not the point. I don't want my mother hearing about you chaining me to the bed, regardless of whether or not it's true. There are just some things better left unsaid."
"I think she knows it's a joke, Abby." He leans over and starts kissing my neck again. Damn him. "Don't worry about it; you can't change it now."
It's not going to work this time. He's not going to distract me. I'm going to go right now and change that message. Then I turn my head so I can kiss him.
Maybe later.
Right now...I have bigger fish to fry.
Author's Notes: Okay, crazy shout outs to C-dawg, who has been an enormous help to me with this story. This is the first time I've hashed out a story with someone, ever. And she totally kept me grounded, even though I struggle to flap my little wings. And, I have to give a shout out to the other member of the Brothel, Alex, if for no other reason than the fact that she rocks, and she's one of my Thursday night buddies. As to where this story came from, I was tired of writing angst. I needed something light and fluffy and pointless, and this idea came to me at 2:30 in the morning when I was running on no sleep. If nothing else, it made me laugh.