Panting heavily, somehow finding themselves across the room from where they had started and on Chris' bed, catty-corner from the door, the dysfunctional duo - not a bad name for a team - could feel it rising in their bodies, in each others, that wondrous white wave that could make everything better for one perfect instant. Throwing her head back, Emily barred her neck at the world, her back glued seamlessly to his bare chest, Chris' chin digging into her shoulder as he glanced downwards at her tits, pert nipples pinched between his greedy fingers. It was laborious to determine what the louder sound was between singing moans of building bliss and the slapping melody of flesh pounding against flesh - whichever it was, there was just no way that either of them could have heard the bedroom door opening.

It wasn't like he didn't knock, but the tv was coming in too loud, and the same could be said of what he took to be the stereo in the background (it was not the stereo), so it wasn't intentional when John Genovese came into his son's room at the wrong moment. "Chris-" His mouth fell when he rounded the corner and saw his son...

Right at that exact moment, just as his father swerved and saw them going at it like rabbits in heat, Chris came, emptying his load simultaneously with Emily's Grammy-worthy orgasm. While it was easy enough to cover her convulsing form with the pillow - Chris would be damned if anyone got a good look at his girlfriend's body without his permission, even his old man - there was no hiding the sticky glob that poured out of her quivering crevice and down the side of his sheets, the darkness a perfect contrast to make it that much more obvious. In that awkward, stunned silence - the only sounds her dying and muffled moans - it easily could have been an hour before anyone spoke.

Being older, used to this and worse as the head of a mafia family, John recovered first, clearing his throat, "Chris, I wanted to ask if you wanted to go catch a movie with me this weekend." He looked at Emily, vindicated - now first-hand - of his decision to set them up for this very reason, offering her the same invitation, "Emily's more than welcome to come too."

He clearly didn't mean it that way, but to them, especially to her, they took it in that way, but while she blushed and tried to cover her face with her hands, Chris was vocal about it, "Dad!"

John rolled his eyes at the teenage brain in general, "Grow up. You ain't the first couple that's ever been walked in on." Oh, and with all the emotional scarring, he almost forgot the second part of his message. "Dinner's going to be ready in thirty. Emily, I trust you'll join us? I'm making Tortellini Primavera." John made killer Tortellini Primavera, so even if she wasn't intending on staying over for the next few days, she would just for dinner.

"Dad, Emily's going to be staying over until Javier takes the boot out of his ass." While it wasn't every night that his father cooked dinner himself, it was a common enough occurrence that he wasn't fazed by that news in the slightest. So instead, Chris explained the situation, posing it as more of a statement than a request. If his dad tried to pull some lame shit and try to say that she couldn't stay, he was sure as shit going to hold this over his head until he agreed.

Thankfully for him, the elder Genovese really did like harmless little Emily, so he wasn't the issue, and considering that he was the boss of her entire family, they weren't going to be much of a headache either. It paid to be the boss. "You can stay as long as you need to, sweetheart. Just try to remember that Chris' mother is skulking around, alright you two?"

Yeah, because they were going to just randomly start fucking each other in every room they possibly could. Ok, that was a tempting idea, but so long as they were shacking up, location was a non-issue. Speaking up for the first time since stripping down, Emily nodded gratefully at her boyfriend's father, "Thank you, sir. I really appreciate your understanding and generosity."

Turning to leave, John said over his shoulder, "This one's a keeper Chris."

Once he was gone and the door closed, Emily looked at Chris smugly. She didn't say anything, but the look on her face was speaking volumes...

[Dinner...]

Cleaned up and seated at the table, John serving the meal he had prepared himself, his wife at his right and son at the left, their guest seated at Chris' side, the kids still had yet to break the news to Angie that her son would be living in sin with a horrid temptress (at least that was Emily's thoughts on how she would take the news). He might have told his father how it was going to be, but Chris wasn't quite as prepared to deliver the message to his mother, no matter how hard Emily was kicking his shin nor how many times his father kept nodding to the right.

But Angie was no fool - watching like a hawk the minute that it came to her attention that they had company, she noticed several small things, such as the fact that both teens appeared to have just stepped out of the shower, that the girl was being extra considerate, going so far as to help John prepare the table, and worst of all, that little harlot was wearing one of Chris' old shirts. Normally the maid would have done that kind of thing, but she was having some problems with Immigration at the moment... That would teach the four-eyed chink to use the generic detergent! Too bad the Wexican whore wouldn't be quite as easy to get rid of...

Still holding on to a small ray of hope that Chris would break-up with the mutt and date a nice girl that would help steer him in the right the direction, something that as his mother she couldn't do in the same way that a peer could, Angie tried to keep an active interest in her son's school life, her hand never far from her drink as she inquired, "So, Christopher, how was school today?"

On so many levels it was a waste of time and money, because when he did actually go to class, it wasn't like he paid much attention anyways, and even without the shadow of his bodyguard, it wasn't like anyone went out of their way to talk to him. His mother's attempts at turning him into a 'normal boy' were just pathetic, and downright irritating. "Some nerd blew his eyebrows off in chemistry." And he got blazed with Emily in the school bathroom before ditching and going to Atomic Comics, but that was something he couldn't say to his mother.

Why did she bother even trying? "That's... riveting. Anything else interesting happen today?"

"Yeah, anything interesting happen today?" Emily chimed in, prompting him to tell his mother about their arrangement. She had no problem rubbing it in that she would be staying over, presumably sleeping in the same bed as her son at night, but she knew that it was not her place to break that kind of news, and just poor taste to be so rude to his mother. "Anything at all?"

Obviously she meant besides getting walked in on screwing her. "Not really..." He shrugged, trying to think back to the gossip circulating in the hallways, coming up with something that might have only happened in some TV show, "A cheerleader broke her neck during practice. Didn't die though. Shame." While his mother snorted at his enthusiasm, Chris craftily slipped in, "Emily's staying over. And there's talk of a new Superman movie."

"What was that?" Growling like a rabid dog that should have been put out of everyone's misery, Angie slammed her glass down on the table, glaring at the whore that had basically been paid off to take her son's virginity and couldn't take the hint to see that she had overstayed her welcome.

Professionally, John Genovese was the one to watch out for, but Chris answered to a different boss (well, for now), sighing in defeat the stern scowl on his mother's face, "Emily's going to be staying over."

Angie rounded in on John, "Did you know about that decision?!"

Now they were all on her shit list, but at least the two men weren't a permanent fixture, "Now Ang, I'm sure that everything's going to resolve itself in a day or two." He wanted to add in for his wife's benefit that this was actually a good opportunity to show the kids just how hard it was to be a real couple, but he wasn't about to cower and grovel. What was the point? Not very long after Chris was born, things had disintegrated into the blurred afterimage of a business transaction, and the sex was quick to follow, so what was the point in appeasing the alcoholic? "Now enjoy your dinner before it gets cold."

Or warm. What, even if she couldn't say it, nothing was preventing Emily from thinking that all the older woman survived on was liquor. The poison of choice might have been different for the pair of them, but that was one area where they were rather alike - not that she would ever admit it out loud.

"Mom, don't be a cunt-"

"Christopher Genovese, language!" She shrieked as if someone had put a large, lethal spider on her plate, "Now I expect that kind of foul-mouthed language from your little Puerto Rican Raggedy Anne, but you were raised better than that!"

Emily scoffed, "You mean better than me. And I'm not Puerto Rican, I'm part Columbian, Lebanese-"

Interrupting her with a sound rather like a laugh, Angie turned her attention to Emily, smiling as fake as her tan, "A distinction without a difference, dear."

Aware of the eyes on her, so as hard as it was, Emily bit her tongue, "If you say so." She might have had better manners to attack her potential mother-in-law, but there was no way in blue hell that she was going to sit back and be spoken to like that, as if she were less than human. "But indulge me if you will, Mrs. Genovese, what is your definition of a good woman? Is it some polished trophy that losses its golden luster as the years dry away the sheen, or is it a woman that stands by her man through everything, encouraging his greatness when no one else will? Now maybe I'm wrong about this, but I was always lead to believe that the real measure of a woman is the man that she stands behind."

Angie narrowed her eyes dangerously, outraged that she had been put in her place, unsure what fact flustered her the most; was it that it was a younger woman to speak to her that way, or was it that it was in front of her own family? Whichever, it stung considerably, and to add insult to injury, neither her husband nor her son had made a move to prevent or, or even to rush to her defense! Fucking ingrates! "All nice sentiment, but let's see how long you'll be around... And anyways, I thought that you were more forward than that, one of the lesbian feminist types."

"One might think that about me, but I'm really an old-fashioned girl at heart." She wanted to throw in the question as to if Angie Genovese had ever heard of one of those before, a heart, but she felt as if she had pressed her luck enough for one night.

Seeing just how stifling the tension was in the room, the pressed flowers in the middle of the table wilting from the sheer insenity of their continued silent battle, John finally stepped in, "Now, now, ladies, this is a nice family dinner."

Chris took his dad's cue, reaching for his fork and knife, "For fuck's sake!" He looked at his girlfriend, wondering if he hadn't quite fucked all the animosity out of her... Not a bad idea though...

I feel inclined to point out that things that happen/are said in this story are purely works of fiction and in no way reflect my own views. In fact, the only reason that the racist comments were put in the story is to explain Javier's accusation of Chris being racist. Honestly, had he not said anything about the way he handed out monikers, I probably wouldn't have connected those dots. Maybe that's just me though. No, the most I would have noticed is the sexism, when Chris complains that they had hired ''a chick" (that easily could have replaced the entirety of the Toxic Mega Cunts). Either way, it really bothered me, because in the comics I really didn't see Chris saying anything racist (Hood 1 and 2, yes), and in the first movie, his dad employed all races, and nothing was said then. Granted, I wouldn't put much stock into the second movie... Sorry, didn't mean to rant!

Took longer than it should have, but I finished Hit-Girl, so now I'm all caught up on the series, yay! And yes, that was probably a very traumatic experience, for all three of them. Especially the kids. Now that's a way to win points with his mother! Seriously, that's probably not the best of ways to start things out. Wonder if things will ever improve between the two most important women in Chris' life? *taunting smirk * Oh, and I'm not familiar with Italian cuisine, so I just Googled 'traditional Italian food'. And here's to Irrajjmn and happy accidents!

Remember, reviews are always welcome, no matter how nit-picky or simple! So review!

Kick-Ass is the property of Mark Millar and John Romita Jr. Poor, disturbed Emily Vela is mine.