AN: This chap's shorter than I would have liked, but what can you do? Drop a review if you like it. Or if you hate it. Flamers make me laugh my ass off.
Warnings: Just language this time 'round.
Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins"
Chapter Two
And Things Aren't Simple Anymore
"I've been waiting all day to talk to you." The dealer growls, all fierce intimidation that bounces off both of their well-honed masks. They'll never let anything real show through, they're much too skilled for that.
"Fuck off." Tony says with a smile. It's dark though, and there's something hard in his eyes.
"Now, now, play nice, kiddies."
"No. I don't think I will." Tony's stepping in front of Tea, his stance protective and possessive.
"All I want to know is where to find that stupid blonde kid. Because your friend owes me, and if you don't start talking, you're going to owe me too. You and the little dyke."
"So what, you're going to 'red' us to death?" Tea quips.
The man advances, and Tony's tensing, preparing to use all those martial arts he's studied to keep fit.
"Hey, Tea." Her father interrupts, looking nothing less than ominous in his wife beater. Head shaved, tattoos black against his skin, hatred in his eyes. "It's late. You should run up to bed."
"Okay, Dad." She's walking a little faster than normal, the only sign that she's bothered by this situation. Tony remains, eyeing Madison warily.
"Been a bit of a mix-up, obviously." He calls out, edging away from this made man and this made boy and this girl who apparently belongs to both of them.
"Obviously." Mr. Marvelli glowers until the yellow truck disappears from sight, then nods curtly at Tony, and goes inside.
Tony sighs, wonders what the hell, exactly, he's doing and turns towards home. This isn't who he is. This is not what he does. He's Tony Synder. He doesn't give a damn about anyone or anything, not really. He'd save his own ass before anyone else's.
Yet, he stood there, prepared to get his ass thoroughly handed to him by a crazed drug dealer. And he doesn't know why. He really thinks he should. But he doesn't want to know what it means. Doesn't want things to change, to be different.
He's Tony Synder, and he's an ass. A cold, manipulative ass. She's Tea Marvelli, and she's a bitch. A cold, manipulative bitch. And they're best friends. Nothing more, nothing less. It's just that fucking simple.
He slides in the front and his dad smiles at him, "Have a good time, then?"
"Yeah, I suppose." Tony shrugs, disinterested in his father's approval. The man is useless and stupid, and Tony hopes he never becomes anything like him.
"Good."
"I don't want to talk about it, Dad."
"Tomorrow."
"Okay..."
This quietness is only half what the hell just happened with the crazy drug dealer outside. The other half is what the hell just happened with Tony. Tony, narcissistic, arrogant, manipulative, best friend Tony. Tony that she doesn't screw around with because they're best friends. Oh, and yeah, she's gay.
She so very, very gay. Except for the whole just slept with a guy thing. And Audrey Hepburn is staring at her with sultary eyes, judging her.
"Oh, shut up, you." She says and covers her face with a pillow. But it doesn't help because she still feels...well, she's not quite sure how she feels, but she knows she shouldn't be feeling anything at all. Because he's Tony, and she's Tea, and they don't do this. They just don't.
It's supposed to be fucking simple.