Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, just, you know, in case you didn't know that.
Chapter IV: Come Here Often?
Dinner was uncomfortable. No, not just uncomfortable. Un-fucking-comfortable. Johnny only had to look over his left shoulder slightly to see me, and, by the time I had finished my main course, he had done exactly that; eight times.
I was very aware of every bit of food on my plate. I felt like an eccentric food critic. How much food could I put on my fork without it slopping off and making a mess? How wide did I have to open my mouth to execute a perfect placement of food with no embarrassing spillage, but also without looking like a sideshow clown waiting for someone to push their balls down my throat? Wait, that didn't … never mind.
I obsessively wiped my mouth after every second bite and licked my lips in between. Conversation was almost non-existent. I didn't want to lose concentration and Angela didn't hide the fact that she found this very amusing. By the time dessert came around, his table was empty and, although I felt a little sad that I would never see him again – at least until he was on my T.V come Monday – I felt happy that I could finally enjoy my dinner.
I decided on the chocolate mousse for dessert. Chocolate, in case you haven't realized by now, is one of my many vices. I never shied away from eating it. Life's too short to miss out on the good stuff. I worked my ass off to keep it off my hips but even still, I'm not perfect. I always wanted to be one of those people that seemed to just snap back after having a child. I always thought that once my baby was out, I could walk out of hospital in my size six jeans, whistling nonchalantly, as if giving birth was the simplest thing I'd ever done in life.
I was very naive, because it was nothing like conceiving a child. That was the easiest twenty seconds of my life.
Sadly, I got the other end of the spectrum. It was painful, it was long and it left scars. Instead of walking out in jeans, I hobbled out in my pajamas and my bra stuffed with breast pads. At least I had a gorgeous baby to show for it … and some impressive stretch marks.
Angela and I talked about work and kids while we ate our dessert and finished off the bottle of wine. We reminisced about the day and I found it much easier to laugh about it, now that I wasn't in the horrifying moment of the discussed disasters.
Once we had finished, we decided to find a seat by the bar and continue the conversation there. When it was Angela's turn to get drinks she brought back a brewery taster. There were four different types of beer and we both tried them all. We picked a favorite each and decided to be brave and order a full glass.
It was my turn to get drinks and I had just placed my order when I heard a familiar voice from behind me.
"So, do you come here often?"
I turned around slowly to see Johnny standing there with a beer in his hand and his lopsided smirk in full force. Surprisingly, I didn't feel anxious or nervous, I felt happy and really fucking excited.
Maybe a little tipsy. Maybe.
I must have been quiet for too long.
"Johnny."
He pointed at himself with his thumb as if I could have him confused with someone else. I decided to play along.
"I'm sorry. I didn't recognize you without the purple get-up and those hideous shoes."
Lies. All lies.
"You don't like the shoes?" That eyebrow was up again and I wanted to lick it, but I held myself steady. "I thought they would be guaranteed lady killers." That dimple.
"So I lied. The shoes make me want to take you home and do unspeakable things with you." I was shocked as the words fell from my mouth, but I couldn't stop them. I looked at him and tried desperately not to cringe at myself as I awaited his reaction.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned back toward the bar. Saved by the barman. The bartender told me how much I owed him and I paid him before turning back to Johnny.
"You want to sit with us?"
What the hell, Bella? You just told the guy you want to take him home and now you're inviting him over to sit with you. Hussy!
It's the beer's fault. I glared murderously at the beers in my hand.
I noticed that he hadn't answered my question yet and I looked up to see him looking at me curiously as I tried to kill my drink with laser eyes. I went to try and redeem myself when he finally spoke up.
"Okay, sure," he replied with a smile.
Shocked, I led him to where Angela was waiting. I watched her face as I approached. She instantly composed herself after a flash of shock flitted across her features. I smiled at her, maybe it was more of a grimace, while my eyes zoned on her and I pleaded with her internally.
Don't fucking embarrass me, please!
"You remember Johnny?" I asked Angela unnecessarily
After some polite reintroductions, I found myself sitting between my best friend and my T.V personality crush on a monstrous leather sofa. Life could not get any weirder.
"So do you come here often?" Angela asked Johnny.
He and I laughed while Angela looked between us, confused.
"I just used that line on Bella," he explained.
"Right." She winked at me and then took a sip of her beer. I watched as her face screwed up at the taste.
"You ladies sure know how to make an impression! You were the group's main topic of discussion tonight, especially between Al – between Igglepiggle and Dora." He smiled at us lazily and then took a manly sip of his beer.
Johnny now had his back up against the arm of the sofa. He had one leg up on the seat, bent at the knee, the foot of his other leg was flat on the ground. He had slung one arm over the back of the sofa and the other held his beer. He looked so relaxed and so fucking hot it was a battle to not look between his legs or jump into his open lap.
His black shirt had the top two buttons undone and, again, I had to warn myself to not reach out and undo the rest of them to see what goods he was hiding under there. I was so busy ogling that Angela had to answer for me. Bless her.
"Yeah, well, they're just lucky I had my son with me," she replied. She was tipsy; I could hear it in her voice.
That eyebrow. "So what is it you don't like about them?" His question sounded genuine, he really wanted to know why we would beat up on innocent fictional characters.
"Well for starters there's too many pant-less bears, then there's too many made up creatures that, although artistic, are downright creepy for children. Then there's the lack of education on language, like that – that ignoramus Igglepiggle. Who is not only so idiotic that he can only say his own name, but he condones his girl walking around outside with her skirt up all day."
Okay, so I may be a little passionate about the subject, or slightly inebriated.
"Interesting."
He took another sip of his beer and held my gaze over his glass; I was slightly baffled. I'd just rambled on a bunch of nonsense and all he could muster in response was 'interesting'? The guy was so calm it made me want to shock him.
"Don't forget about Yo Gabba Gabba!" Angela added in. "That shit is thirty two shades of fucked up!"
Slash that, she's not tipsy, she's drunk. I laughed at the realization that the night was about to turn 'thirty two shades of fucked up' itself. Oddly, I was looking forward to it. I was feeling wild and free.
"Yes! Exactly! I mean you have this guy, with extremely bad fashion sense, playing with dolls!" I added.
"Don't forget the creepiness of said dolls." Angela continued, sloshing her drink around as her hands moved about emphatically. "Except for Muno, he's useful at least! You just need some AA batteries!" I lost it at this point; both Angela and I were in embarrassing hysterics as Johnny looked on in confusion.
"Batteries?" he asked, and then his eyes widened when realization hit right between them. "Oh! Ah …" His words faded and it made me laugh harder, especially when I saw a bit of pink creep into his face.
God he's gorgeous.
When we finally stopped laughing I decided it was time to move the conversation away from us, before it got dangerously silly.
"So how did you get into the job? Is it something you've always wanted to do?" I asked.
He shifted in his seat a little and his knee rubbed against my thigh in the process. My breath stopped short at the contact, while butterflies sent a shiver through me. He smiled at me knowingly and I returned it.
"I flunked drama school." Angela laughed a little at this and I turned to glare at her. She stopped instantly but he noticed and continued on. "No, it is kind of funny. I mean how the fuck do you flunk drama?"
I almost gaped at the man, hearing him cuss was simultaneously surprising and very fucking hot.
"I heard about the new station and that they wanted new presenters, so I figured, why the hell not? I didn't have anything to lose. I was picked out of thousands, along with three others that host the afternoon shows."
He took a sip of his beer and leaned back in his chair. It was only at that moment that I realized he had moved into me as he spoke. Okay, so he moved into us, but as a single mum, who rarely sees outside her house, and hasn't seen a un-fur covered dingaling in a long, long time, I had every right to imagine that it was me he was leaning into.
"So why did you get the morning show?" Angela asked.
"Because of my smile, of course." He winked and smiled widely; showing two very deep and perfectly placed dimples.
I sighed wistfully and then, realizing what I had done, skulled the rest of my drink to keep myself busy.
Thankfully, while I drunk myself into oblivion, Angela leaned over me and began another topic of conversation. Eventually, after a few more drinks and some dancing to the band, we all fell into easy conversation and spent the rest of the night laughing and getting to know each other.
When I realized that I was moving out of 'wow, I'm drunk' territory and into 'wholly fucking shit I am absolutely sloshed, this is going to hurt tomorrow' territory, I switched to soda.
Angela, however, kept right on drinking and come one in the morning, she was at the point of 'oh shit, I'm going to spew all over that guys back,' which is just what she did. I began to apologize profusely to the guy, until I realized that her chosen target was Igglepiggle. I may have smirked at him after my half assed apology poured from me.
I sat Angela down on the sofa and forced large glasses of water in her hand. Once she'd managed to hold down about a liter of water, I suggested that we head for home. Angela suddenly pulled me to her and hugged me.
"Ssshtay," she slurred.
I pulled away from her and shook my head. "No, we should go, you'll just vomit on someone else and I couldn't possibly hold my glee in if it was Skanky Daisy. That could get us in trouble." We both laughed at this but then she shook her head a little and pulled me back to her.
"No, I'll go, you stay." She nudged me then and I turned to look behind me. I found Johnny kneeling by me, his hand rested on the sofa behind me as he looked at Angela with concern.
"She okay?" he asked with a nod of his head toward my obliterated friend.
I nodded as I fought with the whirring of my mind. Stay? Go? Do I even have a chance?
"Yeah I'm just gonna send her home, but I might – I might stay?" It came out as a half statement half question.
He smiled widely at me and I felt my heart speed up. I was staying. I was staying and then we were going to…
"I'll help you get her into a cab," he yelled over the band, which had just begun to play again.
We managed to get Angela out of the place without any more vomiting mishaps. I thanked her quietly and promised to be over in the morning to pick up Sunny as I hugged her. She told me not to rush, fell into the back of the taxi and then waved weakly as it sped off.
I quickly rang Ben as I watched the taxi drive off.
"Hello?" I'd woken him up.
"Incoming, she's tanked. You're welcome. Oh and – ah, I'll be round tomorrow morning to pick up Sunny," I added quietly.
"Hussy." He laughed.
I laughed with him. "Hardly, I think I've forgotten how to do it," I replied nervously.
"In the words of my beautiful wife, 'it goes in the front bum dear, the back one is exit only.'"
"Thanks for the tip." I scrunched up my nose; thinking about my best friend and her husband having sex wasn't exactly my idea of fun.
"You owe me. Night, Bella."
"Night, Ben." I hung up the phone and turned around to see Johnny standing much closer than I thought he was. It was evident by his smirking face that he'd heard the whole conversation. Well, my side of it at least.
"You know I'm not so sure that Alan wants to see your face again." He chuckled into his hand and then coughed as if to hide it.
I realized that he was talking about Old Biddy Baldy Igglepiggle and I shrugged my shoulders. "He's just lucky that I didn't aim Angela at his girlfriend too." I narrowed my eyes toward the door of the building, as if my glare could reach those inside.
"You do realize that they are not the real characters?" he spoke from above me. He had moved closer again. I looked up at him slowly, taking in everything as if studying a beautiful piece of art.
"I know that. I just don't think he likes me very much. I probably shouldn't agitate him." I looked deep into his green eyes and lost myself within them.
His fingers brushed mine and then they slid along them, followed by his palms. We stood, palm against palm for a while, our eyes searching each other's. The buzz that his touch created was so loud that I barely heard him when he leaned down to me, his lips so close that his breath became my own.
"Let's get out of here," he whispered.
All reviewers get virtual voodoo dolls of the children's tv character they despise most, to do with what they want. Those that don't will get a visit from Macca Packa so he can blow his horn on you. Um, at you, I mean at you. ;)
Rec's for today:
SilverSpoon and WelshWitch1011 – two RL sisters who both write some amazing Buffy and Supernatural funnies, yummies and other stuff that will keep you on the edge of your seat.