Myra woke up in a tizzy; her eyes wide as she tried to get her bearings on the unfamiliar surroundings. It wasn't her room; what mess had she gotten herself into now?
She sat up with a start, her hair fell in wild, puffy strands around her face as she glared at the person in the bed next to her. The mound's features were concealed by the blanket; Myra's hands were shaky as she started to peel them away.
"Please no…" She murmured quietly, her heart racing as her mind jumped to all of the possibilities. Had she been a complete moron and slept with Rick? Or was it possibly Diane's boss Roberto?
She removed the blanket in one, swift motion, revealing a mattered puff of greying hair; it was Mrs Sanchez.
"Myra?" She winced, as she peered up at Myra through sleep-laden eyes, "What time is it? Did you manage to get any sleep, dear?" She sat up, rubbing her eyes.
"Oh Beverly…" Myra let out a sigh of relief, but quickly composed herself, before, "I know this is ridiculous… but did we have sex?" She whispered in a questioning tone.
Beverly let out a chuckle, her eyes still heavy with sleep sparkling with humour, "That IS a ridiculous question!" She smirked, sitting up, the blanket sliding off her shoulders.
Myra looked away swiftly; Beverly was nude.
"Uh… are you SURE?" Myra asked, shielding her eyes.
Seeing Mrs Sanchez naked was like seeing her own mother nude; it wasn't something she ever wanted to visualize, let alone see.
Beverly chuckled again, "Oh Myra, dear." She chuckled, swiftly grasping her robe off the bedside table and pulled it on without hesitation. "It's extremely hard for me to sleep with clothes on; sleeping butt-naked is the only way!" she grinned widely as she watched Myra climb out of the bed.
"I'm not saying I disagree in the slightest, though I will question your timing." Myra said, turning her back to the older woman as she waited for her to dress herself properly. "Where's Rod?" she asked awkwardly.
"Slept on the couch…" Beverly shrugged slightly, "I think the deep and meaningfuls got a bit too much for him last night." She chuckled and shook her head as she tied her robe and stood up. "You came knocking at some heinous hour this morning… drunk and an emotional wreck. I could barely get any coherent phrases out of you." She shook her head with a smirk.
Myra cleared her throat, "Ah yes… well we don't pay too much attention to my drunken counterpart's emotional babbling." Myra attempted to dismiss it, "especially when my best friend just got married to someone I'm not particularly fond of."
"Oh you didn't mention Richard… not even once." Beverly smiled and Myra didn't know whether she was being sarcastic or not. Beverly chuckled, as if reading her mind, "Not exactly anyway. You were continuously asking Rod and I what our secret was; what love is- if having children is everything you've heard it is." She chuckled, "and then you started complaining about sex life things and some other crass things that would make a nun blush; so we had to put to you bed." Beverly was smiling, her eyes sparkling with humour.
"Ah yes, all of the mysteries of life that elude me." Myra smirked back, "At least I didn't complain about how I'm fairly certain a part of me despises Diane because she's a reflection of what I could have been. A fake princess… but let's face it- we all know she sucks dick and eats ass; she's with Rick for fuck's sake!" Myra blurted in uncontrolled anger and then covered her mouth, "Sorry."
Beverly, although initially taken aback by the crude words, let out a loud laugh, "although it's something I didn't really want to think about… you're completely right!" She chuckled "Even someone as straight-laced as Her parents would be doing some really filthy things, behind closed doors."
Myra smirked, "Oh those two, definitely into coprophilia." She laughed.
"What's that…?" Beverly looked confused.
Myra cleared her throat, "Uh… do me a favour and never look that up." She said pointedly, and glanced up as Rod entered the room.
"If you two hens are done clucking, I believe there is a buffet downstairs with our names on it." He was grinning, his eyes resting on Beverly. His expression softened and he strode over to her, embracing her tightly, "You look so beautiful and lively this morning!" He grinned as he held her, "Are you feeling better?"
"I'm actually feeling divine Beverly grinned back at him, returning his embrace.
They seemed to get lost in each other as they began slow dancing on the spot. There was a knock at the door and Myra shook her head.
"I'll get it." She chuckled, walking over to open the door.
"Morty?" Rick was looking at her in confusion, before staring at his parents over her shoulder, "Did y-you bang my parents?" He asked, visibly mixed with confusion and amusement.
"I just slept with your mother." Myra shot back with a smirk, "Don't worry Sanchez; those two only have eyes for each other." She motioned to them, "Look at them; almost makes me think that love is real." She chuckled and shook her head, "Go. Talk to them; they'll fucking love it." She said, stepping past him.
"Richard!" his mother sounded delighted as the door closed behind Myra.
Myra was in high spirits, as she made her way towards her room, briefly stopped by Roberto; who wished her a good morning and persuaded her to sit with him for breakfast- after she changed, of course.
Myra was shaking her head with amusement, and an overall jovial mood, as she reached her bedroom door, unlocking it to step inside; ready to shower and change and face the day.
Rick was sitting in the dining area with Diane and his parents, having a surprisingly pleasant series of conversations. It had been years since he had talked so extensively with his parents; to see them enjoying Diane and her dialogue made him happy. He wasn't sure he would ever see the day they would be laughing end enjoying Diane's company; when they had been so emotionally invested in Myra being the mother of their grandchildren.
"So…" Beverly's eyes were bright with happiness, "When are you two going to start trying for a baby?" It was almost as though she had read Rick's mind.
"Inappropriate." Rick frowned, but cocked his brow with a sudden smirk, "But i-i-I'll have you know that w-we were certainly making good 'attempts' last night!" He let out a boisterous cackle and Diane gave him a bashful shove.
"Rick your parents don't need to hear…" She started in a scolding tone.
"Oh believe me we've heard much more crass things out of this boy's mouth!" Rod shook his head.
Rick wasn't entirely sure whether his old man had been completely won over by Diane, or whether he was just being more civil than usual. He was a hard man to read, not to mention please.
Not that he needed his approval, but it wouldn't hurt, right?
Rick's eyes were suddenly following Myra, who walked in, looking shaken and paler than usual. She had bathed and changed, yet she was looking antsy as she took a seat at a table across the room. Rick cocked his brow as he saw who was already sitting there; Diane's boss.
"I-is that your boss-man that Morty is sitting next to?" Rick asked, glimpsing at Diane, who glanced around until she saw them.
"Yes." She sounded perturbed, "If she gets me fired…."
"I-I don't think she'd go for such low fruit." Rick frowned, "Still, I-I'm curious." He smirked at his parents, who were also looking in Myra's direction. Their eyes were surprisingly judgemental as they gauged the other man, seemingly eying him up and down with a severity Rick had never witnessed before.
"Handsome one, isn't he?" Beverly whispered to Rod, who nodded.
"Looks like he has his head screwed on straight." Rod muttered in agreement.
"He'd have to if he owns a Psychology practice!" Beverly shot back swiftly, before turning to Diane and Rick, "He seems like a well put together man; I approve." She nodded her head, as if to affirm her words.
Rick cocked his brow at her, "You approve?" He said in a thick tone, "What's there to approve of? She's a free woman."
"We approve." Rod said in a stern tone, "That boy looks like he won't dick around; he'd have to make good money…" his gaze turned to Diane, "Your lot charges out the ass."
"Uh… thanks?" Diane asked, tilting her head slightly as she took a sip of her juice.
"The point is, he has a real job, clearly went to college… probably has his own house and all." Rod muttered, suddenly shoving bacon into his mouth, clearly getting worked up.
"Rod." Beverly hissed in a warning tone.
"No, no." Rick growled, standing up abruptly, "I-I get it, that's dad's idea of a perfect son. A-a working stiff in a suit, probably a-a lady killer too, because h-he'd be fucked if his son was anything other than some straight, tightly-wound nimrod!" He scowled, rolling his eyes suddenly, "Whatever, y-you fucking suck; it's no wonder why I haven't talked to you in years." He muttered sourly as he walked away.
Diane made hushed apologies and followed after him.
"Rick…" She breathed, hurrying alongside him as he made his way towards their room. He'd left the portal gun in there, otherwise he would have shouted a big fuck you and disappeared instantly.
"I-I'm just so sick of his bullshit, Dee." Rick muttered irritably, "I-I know I wasn't the ideal son; fuck I-I made his life so much more annoying, I-I get that!" He muttered, "I-I invented interdimensional travel; I-I don't need his approval!" He scowled, shoving the key into the door lock and wriggling it vigorously.
Diane placed a hand on his shoulder, "No you don't." She agreed, "You don't need anyone's approval; all that matters is this…" she grasped his hand and placed it on her stomach- it was still flat but the gesture was enough to get him to calm slightly.
He felt his mood soften, "Y-yeah…" he shook his head, successfully unlocking the door, "This kid i-is going to be fucking awesome!" He smirked as they walked into their room, "Now let's get all packed for our extensively erotic honeymoon."
Myra was… happy.
That thought alone was enough to unsettle her as she sat around the workbench, cinching some stitching into place on a new synthetic epidermis prototype. She was staring at her handywork under a microscope-like device, though this particular one could see picoscopic measurements. The prototype wasn't for her, of course but for Rick or BP or Squanchy… really anyone who was going to playa vital part in any of the upcoming battles against the Federation. They were inevitable, after all of the recent sabotage.
Myra had been humming a pleasant tune, lost in thought before she cleared her throat, in an attempt to compose herself.
Roberto was… a breath of fresh air?
That was underselling it majorly, but it was certainly all of the compliment Myra could allow herself to muster. The whole thought about him being more than a fling was certainly intimidating, to say the least.
He was thoughtful, compassionate, romantic… and surprisingly flexible…
Myra found herself giggling at the thought, before she shook her head, as if to rid herself of the unwarranted thoughts.
"Giggling?" Rick appeared beside her, "I-I return from my long-ass honeymoon to find y-you giggling to yourself, in our… rather dimly lit workshop?" He cocked his brow at her.
He was on 'his' side of the workshop; immaturely marked out with red tape during one of their past squabbles. It had been a heated argument over space, or lack thereof, or taking each other's shit…. Myra couldn't quite remember; they had had so many pointless arguments and fights over virtually nothing. He had made a point of taping off half of their space and loaded 'his' side with things he had deemed 'his' tools and inventions.
Though they were past that, currently; each other's 'shit' was literally on both sides- though the tape had remained out of sheer laziness, she guessed.
He stepped up beside her, eyeballing her work, "The fuck is this?"
"nanofiber defence mesh." Myra muttered dismissively, "How was the honeymoon?"
"A nightmare." Rick rolled his eyes, a smirk curving his mouth, "W-we had to stop at all places with remotely edible food. The pregnancy cravings are kicking into overdrive, it seems." He shrugged his shoulders slightly, "Not that I-I can complain; the little bastard I-is the fruit of my loins." He chuckled again, and peered over her shoulder a bit more intently. "How have you been, Morty? You seem suspiciously happy."
Myra snorted, "A month or so without you?" she snickered, "I guess my sanity has finally been restored, after several decades."
"Y-you know what I mean." Rick said, shoving her aside, seemingly annoyed with her work. He started unravelling her stitches and restarted them.
Myra frowned at him, "I have been seeing Diane's boss." She said matter-of-factly, "And I don't really want to stop… its thrilling… and… horrifying." She shook her head, "…and very confusing." She felt her brow pinch together.
Rick made a snorting noise, clearly amused by her drama, "Y-you've caught the affection bug." He said, not looking up from the PicoScope, "T-that weenie bastard must have given y-you amazing orgasms… y'know in order for someone l-like YOU, to be having positive, endorphin-producing thoughts." He chuckled, though he glimpsed up at her, almost prying her for answers.
"I never knew that someone who works on resolving people's mental crap, could be such a sexual deviant!" Myra blurted, as though her inner thoughts had been dying to come out. In truth, It was relieving for her to finally have someone to unload all of her mind's ramblings to. A month was an eternity for her to be seeing someone.
"Hmm," Rick's brow raised, "For you to be saying that… he must be into some kinky shit." He made a snorting noise and glanced back through the PicoScope, "I-I give it another month."
Myra's good mood seemingly vanished instantaneously, "Excuse me?" Her tone was coarse, teeming with underlying wrath.
Rick glanced up again, straightening himself and trying to appear composed but he knew he had struck a nerve. He had no desire to be one punch KO'd, "H-he seems like an ok dude and all… but I think we both know that as soon as y-you realise that pool of dopamine only goes so deep." He made a knee-high gesture, "A-and for someone with your particular concoction o-of issues i-it's even lower." Rick's words were matter-of-fact, his expression unwavering, though she could see concern in his eyes as she continued to glare at him.
"Maybe you're right." She frowned, feeling her fists clenching, "But do you have to be such an asshole? Can't you just let me be happy?"
"Don't get me wrong, Morty." Rick said, stepping past her and patting her on the shoulder. He let out a long belch and smirked at her, "I'm thrilled you're happy… buuut I'm also a realist and I know that you don't find a-a great deal of happiness with people." He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he strode back to 'his' side of the room, where he began to hammer at something on his own workbench.
Myra glanced down at his nano stitches, her eyes narrowing in annoyance. They were practically flawless.
Rick Sanchez was an ass.
