Random update. Don't worry I am still working on High and Dry!

"Thanks again for helping me out with this, guys," Felicity says, opening up a notebook. She had changed her major on a whim to psychology once she realized nursing entailed dealing with blood and throw up. Unfortunately, she doesn't take this major any more seriously than nursing, and put off a project until last minute. As I am such an incredible, charitable, selfless girl, I agreed to be a test patient for her mock therapy session. But last minute she decided couple's therapy would be much more interesting, on top of meaning less prying and more bullshit for her paper.

And thus, Kartik has been roped into joining me for some "therapy", not that we need it really, but I thought it'd be funny. He and I sit on my bed, facing Felicity, who is on her own bed across the room. She had dressed for the part, complete with pencil skirt and black rimmed glasses. I don't know why she put forth the effort, for I'm still in pajamas and Kartik hasn't changed since he last showered which was yesterday.

"This is so lame," Kartik says, picking at his toes.

"Stop whining," I say.

"But Gemma, we don't need couple's therapy!"

"It's fake! Fake therapy," Felicity chirps, scribbling something on her notebook. Kartik blinks stupidly at her.

"I don't get it."

"You know…like you play fake guitar." Felicity grins at me.

"Now, now, let's not go ganging up on the male here," he mumbles. "You're supposed to be unbiased. You're going to make me out to be some nutcase, aren't you?"

Felicity smiles and writes again in her book. "Let's get started." She flips through a textbook next to her. "Okay, it says here I should ask you what your plans for your future together are."

"Okay," I say. Felicity wavers.

"Okay. So…what are they?"

"Oh! Um…let's speak hypothetically. Ideally, I'd like to marry Kartik and have two children, but not one right after the other. There should be an age difference, because I'd go nuts with two toddlers running around. And I don't want to have them right away, because I want to travel right after we're married, which will hopefully be either the winter or spring of 2012."

"Um, Gemma?" Felicity cuts in, but I pay her no mind.

"I figure a winter wedding would be nice with all the fresh snow and red roses, maybe a nighttime wedding would be lovely, you know, with the moonlight sparkling and fires roaring. But then I'm really leaning towards early spring, with a color scheme in maybe a sage green and pale pink, with English roses and all that lovely ivy. Oh, now wouldn't that be perfect, Kartik?"

Kartik stares at me, his mouth hanging open. "What is it?" I ask, frowning.

"You have this all planned out, don't you?" he asks.

"Yes, of course. Don't you?"

"Gemma, I couldn't care less about roaring fires and shades of sage."

"I sense some tension here," Felicity pipes up, grinning her head off. I ignore her.

"You mean you haven't thought about our future at all?"

Kartik shrugs. "Sure I have, but I've thought about different things, like…"

"Like what? Sex? Is that all you ever think about? Once you buy the truck the ice cream's all for free? Nice, Kartik, really nice," I say hotly. Felicity scribbles away furiously, enjoying every second. Kartik's eyes bug out like a goldfish's and he looks slightly amazed.

"Wow, Gemma, not at all. I was thinking in terms of living expenses and houses and such."

"Liar."

"No, it's true! I have it all figured out. If we budget ourselves just so, do you know neither of us would ever have to work?" I fold my arms across my chest. "It's true! Inheritances, that sort of thing. We'd just have to live on a budget, but I thought about it and I think it could work. Or rather, not work, eh Gemma?" he says, nudging me playfully in the ribs. I gaze at him disdainfully.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Okay, imagine that -,"

"Hey, wait!" Felicity cuts Kartik off, examining her notes carefully. "Um Gemma, let's try not to take a hostile tone. Feelings are best expressed when calm and collected."

"Okay," I say, rolling my eyes. Kartik looks at Felicity.

"Can I talk now?" She nods. "Okay, so let's say we limit the amount we spend on food. I can personally live on McDonald's snack wraps, and they're only $1.39. That's pretty cheap, Gemma," he says, looking as though he put a lot of thought into it. I let out a snort of laughter.

"Yes, but you eat at least four at a time. Things add up, dearest."

"Yes, but it's still cheap. And it's not as if you eat a lot anyway! What did you eat for lunch today?"

I blush, knowing that my eating habits are terrible. "I don't remember."

"You ate six wintergreen life savers and some American cheese. Hardly a feast."

"So what you're saying is that I should go hungry while you eat half a dozen snack wraps a day. So kind and loving you are to your future wife, Kartik!"

"That is not the point I was trying to make."

"Yes, but the point was made. You know what? Your little plan will work! I'll live comfortably without working because at this rate you'll be dead at age 40 from high levels of cholesterol and I will live the rest of my life as an emaciated widow with as many wintergreen life savers as I want."

I turn my head so abruptly that my ponytail smacks him in the face. "Stop laughing," I say to Felicity. "You're a terrible therapist and you fail at life."

"Well at least I can afford more than life savers," she says as evenly as possible. Kartik bursts out laughing. "Okay, things are getting a bit out of hand. Let's address the problem."

"Fine by me," I say just as Kartik says, "There is no problem."

Felicity raises her eyebrows. "This may take awhile."

Forty minutes later, we are still in the same position, only Kartik is in tears and explaining his life's story with many a hand gestures.

"And I loved that dog," he says tearfully. "But Dad wouldn't let me keep him. He wouldn't. Oh, Fernando! I miss him so much!"

Felicity catches my eye. 'Fernando?' she mouths. I suppress a snort of laughter.

Kartik lets out a long, shaky breath. "And that's why I want to name our firstborn son Fernando."

"Over my dead body," I say.

He glares at me. "You are so insensitive, Gemma." I roll my eyes as Felicity scribbles into her notebook.

Ten minutes more of this passes until Felicity glances at her Chanel watch and closes her book. "I think we're done for today," she says formally. "You are both nutcases and should seek professional help. Good day to you." She stands up and walks out of the room, slamming the door shut.

"How rude," I mumble, leaning down onto my pillows so that Kartik sits at my feet. He rests his eyes on my legs and I flip on the TV.

"Sage isn't such a bad color," he says apologetically.

"I still don't like the name Fernando. We can name our dog that, if we ever get one, but no son of mine shall sport that name."

"Fair enough," he says, smiling.

"I'm sorry," I say, moving the remote controller from my stomach so that Kartik can lay his head there. "We don't need therapy."

"Of course not," Kartik says, his voice muffled. "It's all Felicity's fault." He sits up and hops off my bed. "I'm using your computer."

"Whatevs," I say, turning my attention to "How Clean is Your House?" I zone out for a bit, watching the old ladies with their marabou rubber gloves cleaning dirty things.

I must have dozed off, for when I next look up, Kartik is leaning back in my desk chair, drinking what looks suspiciously like the margarita mix I made last night. I also notice he is signed into my Facebook account.

"Kartik, what are you doing on my Facebook?"

"Stalking your friends. What else?"

"No you're not; you're messing with my profile."

"Hardly."

"What are you doing?!!!"

"Nothing, I swear it -,"

I push him out of the way and click on my profile. What I see nearly has me in tears. "Gemma Nose Doyle?" I turn on Kartik with a look that could kill most. Unfortunately, he is quite armored against it.

"It was either that or Phlegma Spoil and I thought I'd be nice," he says, folding his arms over his gray t-shirt clad chest.

"Being nice would be leaving my profile alone, jerkface."

"Read on, it gets much better."

With a feeling of dread settling into my stomach, I read over my status. "Gemma Nose Doyle is standing over a tied-up 60 year old naked man, wearing nothing but Wellingtons and a feather boa with riding crop at the ready. Charming, Kartik, really."

He smiles his most attractive smile. "I knew you would appreciate -,"

"Shut up," I say, fixing my status to read 'is now single and looking for a boyfriend that doesn't ruin her life'.

"Gemma, that's not funny," he says, reading over my shoulder.

"You wrote that my religious views are Satanism, but only on Sundays, and that every other day of the week I am Russian Orthodox."

"I did."

"I must really be soul searching then. As well as boyfriend searching, because you're a disgrace."

"Everything's a disgrace to you. Satanist."

"Are you drunk?"

"Minimally."

"My website is hohohofoshoshosho dot com. Kartik, what is this madness?"

He rests his chin on my shoulder. "It gets better, you know."

"Activities: riding my boyfriend's fine arse. Interests: riding my boyfriend's fine arse, bubblegum, orgies, all things nylon. Favorite Music: hot jams and Three Six Mafia. I also enjoy listening to gospel music, but not on Sundays. Favorite TV Shows: Real Sex, Roseanne, Footballers' Wives, Blue's Clues. Favorite Movies: I only watch previews and the movie trivia. Favorite Books: Birdwatcher's guides and various Sudoku books. Favorite Quotes: "I like big butts and I cannot lie." About Me… Kartik, I hate you."

He squeezes my sides and bites my earlobe playfully. "Read it, I forgot what I wrote," he says into my neck. I sigh heavily.

"About Me: I am a ginger kid. Fear me."

Kartik bursts out laughing. "Oh man, I'm clever when I drink!" I elbow him in the stomach. "Oh come off it, Ammeg! You can fix it in five minutes."

"The damage has been done, dear Kitrak."

He presses his hips into me and kisses my cheek sloppily. "Well then fix it quick and we'll have a romp and all will be well."

I glare at him, wondering how he only thinks of sex at the worst possible times. He notices my wrath.

"Gem, listen, I know you're upset. I give you full permission to beat me with your riding crop," he says, faking seriousness.

"No, because that would be a treat."

Little does she know, Kartik also created a group called "If 237 people join this group, Kartik will put down the guitar and play with his girlfriend instead."

Such a charming boy. Still the man of my dreams!

Here's to cheap margarita mix and one month left until I move in to my on-campus apartment,
LunaEquus

(It's about time for school again, my inspiration for this fic has been running dry)