"I'm telling you that she'll want to see me!"
"Sorry ma'am, but I'll have to ask you to move to the back of the line."
"I went to school with her! She knows me!"
The security guard standing at the door of the crowded bookstore pinched the bridge of his nose. He thought it was bad when he had to work the midnight release for the last Harry Potter book, and he thought it was really, really bad when he had to break the nose of some sacrilegious idiot that dared disagree with one of Oprah's book-of-the-month club selections, but this book signing was absolute bedlam. There were people everywhere. Some looked to be as young as nine or ten years old, holding the hands of their glassy eyed parents, while others looked to be way too old to be at a book signing for a novel about one girl's misadventures in an all-girl Catholic school. The creepy old guy with the trench-coat and knee high socks by the comic books certainly didn't look like he belonged at an event that attracted so many young women.
Management ordered the coffee bar closed after a gaggle of hyper-caffeinated girls tore down the shelves for the true crime section to make room for their 'WE LOVE TAMAO' displays and posters; they were also forced to call in extra security when it seemed that there would be a riot after everyone thought that the store had depleted its supply of commemorative bookmarks featuring a photo of the author holding a tape measure and looking rather…frisky.
The security guard knew that there was a peculiar breed of female that happened to like other females, but he thought that they all wore chains on their wallets, smoked cigars, drove transfer trucks, and listened to the Indigo Girls. Until he was called in for the extra shift, he didn't realize that they came in squealing, screaming, sighing…sexy-as-hell-in-those-schoolgirl-uniforms-wait-a-second-I-don't-think-they're-legal-oh-my-God-I'm-a-complete-pervert-my-wife-would-kill-me-if-she-knew-that-I'm-lusting-over-teenage-lesbians-at-a-midnight-book-signing…umm, varieties.
Pointing to group of handcuffed girls wearing rather revealing school uniforms lined against the wall, he asked, "Do you see those girls over there?"
Nagisa peeked around his ample gut and pouted her lips. She didn't see what the hell a bunch of sluts wearing knock-off Miator uniforms had to do with anything. "Yeah, so? In those cheap-ass costumes, it looks like they're the supporting cast for a bad porno."
"Well, every damn one of 'em told me that they went to school with the author, then they tried to sneak past me, so I had to cuff 'em. If you try to get past me, it'll be the same for you. Got it?"
Nagisa jabbed the security guard in the belly and felt her finger sink to the second knuckle. Gross. Ah well. Sacrifices had to be made and if she had to manhandle a really fat obnoxious man in order to see Tamao, then so be it. It was still pretty fucking icky though. "Let me tell you something Buster…I had to leave a smoking hot chick at a bar to make it to this book signing in such a hurry. If I had stayed, I guarantee you that I would be getting screwed in the backseat of her car, but I gave up the chance to get laid so I could see my old friend. Now you can just move aside so that I can…what the hell are you doing? Is that a taser? No! Don't you point that thing at me! No! Stop! Don't you dare think that you can fucking…"
Zzzzzzzzzzz-tt-zzzzzzzzzzzz-tt-zzzzzzzzzzzzzz
The security guard rolled Nagisa's unconscious and slightly twitching form to the side so that the foot traffic wouldn't be impeded. There were still hundreds of people lined up on the sidewalk eager to have their first editions of Red Ribbon Unraveled signed by the writer, and he meant to see that every single one of them got their frickin' autograph.
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"Keys, Shizuma! Where the hell are your keys?! It's starting to rain!" Panting after dragging Shizuma for over six blocks, Miyuki leaned the rather limber form of her friend against the door of her townhouse and began searching for her keys.
Shizuma's townhouse might have been designed by one of the most sought-after architects in the city and it might have been located in one of the trendiest neighborhoods and it might have been only a short drive from the most exclusive clubs and cafes, but the parking just sucked.
Six. Fucking. Blocks.
Ugh.
Dumping her purse onto the marble steps, Miyuki dropped to her knees and sifted through tampons, lipstick, credit cards, condoms…
What the fuck?
…chewing gum and parking tickets, trying to find Shizuma's keys before they were thoroughly soaked by the ever-increasing rainfall. Though it was a comfortably warm night, the rain plastering her hair to her cheeks was cold enough to make her wish that she had grabbed a jacket.
"Shizuma!"
"Uhhh?"
"Wake up!" Miyuki lightly slapped Shizuma across her cheek and watched her eyes flicker. "Come on! We're getting soaked out here!"
"Christ, I'll do it later! Always nagging…nag, nag, nag…" Irritated, Shizuma knocked Miyuki's hand away and covered her eyes, once more trying to fall asleep. Hearing the tone in her friend's voice through the fog in her brain, she was transported back to school, dodging Miyuki and evading her duties as Etoile. "It's always the…hic…the same with you…hic…naggin' me about somethin'…I told you I'll…hzzzzzz…"
"Don't you pass out again! Where are your keys?" Miyuki began her search anew, tossing random items into the bushes so they wouldn't get in her way, though she pocketed the expensive lipstick. Shizuma would never miss it. That shade of mauve was completely wrong for her complexion. It was much better suited to Miyuki's dark hair and eyes, so surely her best friend wouldn't mind if she took it off her hands…or off her lips, rather. Whatever.
Distracted by the sheer amount of debris in her purse, Miyuki never noticed that the rain had sobered professional alcoholic Shizuma enough for her to creep closer and wrap her arms around her waist. By the time that she felt Shizuma's long fingers slide under her damp shirt and brush her skin, she had completely forgotten about the keys. Well, who really needs keys after all? It's not as if they're going to end world hunger or stop the next war or…bloody fucking hell! What am I thinking? Weigh your options, Miyuki. Pros versus cons. First of all, we're outside and she has a lot of neighbors, so we'll list that on the cons. However, I've wanted her to touch me since I started growing tits, and her hands are DEFINITELY northward bound, so that's a big pro. Hmm. It's raining and it's getting kind of cold, so that's another con. But then again, I am rather chilly and her hands are certainly warm, plus she's breathing in my ear, so another pro, and she's doing that super sexy throaty thing with her voice…pro… and she is pressed right against my ass…pro… and her arms are…oh God. There are way too many pros here. I am so fucked.
"Hmm…you won't find them in my purse, Miyuki. I seem to remember leaving my key right…here…between your…oh!" Purring against Miyuki's throat, Shizuma slowly moved her hand along her belly, tracing a warm path under the soaked cotton, suddenly topping the steady progression of her fingers when she remembered that her keys were in her pocket. Jerking her hand from Miyuki's shirt, she reached in her extraordinarily tight jeans and retrieved her keys. "Hold on a tic. They're right here!"
Pushing to her feet and somehow managing to force the key into the lock, she stumbled inside and found a light switch. "Come on! You've not even seen my new place yet!" Though her speech was still somewhat slurred from all the booze, Shizuma continued to jabber about her new townhouse, praising the luxurious carpet and fireplaces, but lamenting the fact that her neighbors were old-fashioned types that never came to her swingers parties.
"They actually have the nerve to pull the drapes when I walk around the place naked! Why, just yesterday I was doing aerobics in the living room, when the old bitch next door came pounding on my window, telling me that she could see my boobs jiggle every time I did my lunges and I told her that it was to be expected, since I can't exercise with clothes on. I just get so sweaty and slippery that it's impossible for me to even consider wearing anything except a headband, but she just threw her hands in the air and threatened to call the cops. Can you believe that shit, Miyuki? I mean, what would you do if you saw me doing squats and lunges in the buff? You certainly wouldn't call the cops, would you?"
Lost in yesterday's argument with her neighbor, Shizuma failed to notice that a near-homicidal Miyuki was still on her knees on the front steps, completely soaked from the…rain. Yes, the rain.
Bitch, you are so dead. I drag myself out of bed to save your drunk ass from certain frat-boy molestation, then you have the nerve to torment me by making me imagine you naked, sweaty, bouncing, in handcuffs, AND being frisked. People have killed for much less and I'm near the breaking point so…
Perhaps realizing that Miyuki hadn't answered her, Shizuma turned back to the door and saw her best friend on her knees. Amused, she grabbed her by the arm and pulled her inside, smiling when Miyuki narrowed her eyes. "Now what are you still doing on the steps? It is raining and your shirt is clinging to your…to your…wow." Shizuma had long been aware that Miyuki had all of the requisite bits that made women so desirable for her, but for some odd reason she had never taken the time to really appreciate those particular bits. Now that two of those bits were on high alert because of the chilly weather, she wondered if she might have made a mistake. Miyuki was fucking stacked.
Pulling her closer so that she could get a better look, Shizuma murmured, "Umm, I can't show you the, umm, the… new tv I placed in the bedroom if you don't come inside."
"Bedroom?!"
Okay, maybe I'm not feeling quite as murderous as I thought I was a second ago. Hmm…bedrooms are known to have beds, which are known to be used for a very exclusive list of activities: a) sleeping, b) fucking, c) making little mattress forts, and d) fucking. I'm pretty sure Shizuma is a pacifist, so the mattress fort is out, and she slept most of the way here, so I think sleeping is now out of the question, which leaves options b and d. Oh, there is a God and he loves me…
Shizuma beamed when she saw the expression on Miyuki's face. It was flattering to know that she still had such an effect on her sex-starved friend. "Yes, bedroom. You do want to see it, don't you?"
She had planned on showing Nagisa a few new moves that she learned from a Tibetan fortune teller that kept buying her tequila shots, but now that the red-haired slut was off whoring around with that weird writer chick, she thought she could give Miyuki the ride of a lifetime.
Hey, she owed her for the ride home, right?
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"Nagisa looks so cute when she's asleep, doesn't she?"
"I don't know about that ma'am. She's drooling."
Tamao gently wiped the thin trail of drool from Nagisa's chin and pocketed the tissue. Next to the candles, photographs, notes exchanged in class, retainer, and plastic baggie filled with hair stolen from her brush when they were still roomies, the tissue would make a fine addition to the shrine erected in Nagisa's honor.
But then again…
Why take home only a soggy tissue when the reason for the shrine was stretched out on the floor of a bookstore, unconscious, unbearably cute, and completely unsuspecting? Grinning when she imagined how much cuter Nagisa would be when she saw the effort she put into her altar, Tamao gestured for the security guard to help her drag the snoring girl to her car. "Help me get her into my backseat so I can take her home. You really didn't have to shoot her with that shocky thingamijig, you know, but in a way, I'm glad you did. Now she won't wake up until I have her tied up in my basement…er, I mean, safe at home."
"I'm awfully sorry about that, ma'am. I thought she was lying just to get closer to you…"
Tamao zoned out after hearing this. The thought of Nagisa fighting tooth and nail against a nigh-insurmountable adversary simply to be closer to her was enough to make her want to write a new novel with her oh-so-cute buddy as the protagonist.
"Ah, Nagisa…so very, very cute and so very, very mine."
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Note: I'm going to use the most extreme examples of some of the behavior demonstrated by the characters in this fic. Tamao could be a little obsessive at times (but I love her anyway), Shizuma was a frickin' whore, Nagisa was an idiot (when she wasn't being all super-dramatic and clingy), Miyuki was dying to get laid…so on and so forth. Should be fun. We'll see how it goes. Cheers!