Happy Hour means a busy time at Madame Wong's. There are only two of three tables available and you can hardly get any service. Not that anyone would notice since that is the way it always is at Madame Wong's Tea Palace. It is something less Palace and more royal linen closet, but hey... who is going to complain. It is the best tea outside of Kyoto and Beijing.
It's also known to be one of the places one shouldn't be caught at night, but since it's not night, it has that whole edgy vibe that former punk princesses can appreciate. Writers come here. There's a table of them (well, there are two of them at a table, with tea). They look up as the bells on the door chime and at the plaid explosion known as Dorothy Ken Walters, daughter of Dame Kent Walters and Sir Henry Walters -- Sir and Madam -- former, yes chickadees, former cage queen of the Phantasmagoria.
She never thought she would get tired of being naked and adored...
Back to the plaid...
So anyway, the pants are a mixture of spring yellows, pinks and melon, a hair-kerchief to match, resting on jet black hair let to grow a shade longer to her shoulders, very Lana Turner. Very Miss Pinup USA. The shirt is a button-down, tied at the waist. The only vestiges of her Former Life are the shoes. Polka dot platforms, a delicious shade of pink with clear acrylic heels.
Dot twists in her seat, smiling with pink lips to where Madame Won should be. "Oolong!" she calls out. And from the back of the store, a voice returning, small, ancient: "Hey... whatever happened to hello! Oolong!"
That'd be Madame Wong. Of course.
Speaking of naked and adored...
Fiona's only just beginning to appreciate that particular state of being...
It's damn near made her late, like as not. Well - recovering from the process of it - it being daylight and all, she's made her way to London by more normal, mundane means. Britrail lives on, in all its sundry wheels that turn. And one good turn deserves another, doesn't it?
Her hair is down past her arse, past her hips, almost to the backs of her knees - two years of it wanting cutting and not getting it and getting rather a lot of magical boosts do a lot for that silky ethereal glamour-girl look. It's currently worn pinned back with those mother of pearl combs, some small braids along the outermost edges helping to keep the looser strands back from her face.
For clothing? Well, even punk princesses and writers have their off days. It's spring, and spring demands certain concessions. She's wearing accordingly a pale lilac mock turtleneck with burgundy vest over it, edged in gold brocade, and black jeans and old, worn Doc Martens which might've been a regular black but by now are just sort of grubby. Elegant from the top, shabby from the bottom, meeting somewhere in between. The necklace, however, has been left at home...
Fiona steps inside, peering cautiously as she shoulders aside the door. Well, it's hard to miss anyone, really. It's starting, too, to look like a gathering of blue bloods. Sir and Madam's offspring, an Earl's daughter, and ...
"Hullo, Dot," she offers in a casually offhanded voice. "I do hope I'm not late. Lily made it yet or is she hiding behind that stack of luck cats? I think they're luck cats, at least. - Err, hello?" She peers cautiously towards the back of the shop, taking the reprimand in part upon herself. "...Oolong?" What?
Not much longer after the other two walk in, the door opens quickly, sending the bells into chaos once more. A head with an explosion of blue hair pokes inside -- blue eyes, even painted blue and lined in dark kohl, scout around the room, seeking their quarry. A pleased smile slips over the lips painted cobalt even as the young woman slips into the tea house, calling out, "Dot!" Those eyes flicker over the other punk princess for a moment before the jaw drops. "Drancy??" she asks, obviously shocked by the appearance...but not in an unpleasant manner, it seems from the smile on her face. "Wow.."
Looking like the punked-out Catholic schoolgirl with a kilt that's been hemmed up much too short to be permitted in school, Lily McCoy struts across the room, knee-high Doc Martins thumping heavily upon the floor. Those booted feet take her right over to the table where her old friends seem to be gathering. She hasn't changed too much, save that the cut-off t-shirt she sports isn't screaming obscenities today.
She knew she was going out, after all, so some politeness would be prudent.
Sir and Madame's offspring, Earl's daughter... and a once-streetkid. You can take the kid out of the street, but can you take the street out of the kid? Well... maybe for some, but not this one... not yet at least.
"I was hoping to only be fashionably late... I hope?" she ventures with a crooked grin and her hands shoved into the pockets of her long trenchcoat. Having entered a few seconds after the whole oolong incident, she turns towards the back and hollers, "Hello? Umm... got any black currant?" Turning back towards her friends, she asks, "Is she in here somewhere?" She... Madame Wong, of course.
Dot smiles big and wide, "Hello, lovelies!" she says to you both and she's standing in all her retro 40s stylings, painted toenails to boot. The Betty Page bangs are in full effect, along with the curled under dark hair. "Hey, kitty," she says to Lily, "...no no... right as rain, I just got here too. Isn't this just the Just-So? The gang's all here." She pauses, smiling around her cigarette, looking at herself and looking at Fiona, "...sort of. Not a week back in Kensington and already I'm back to pedicures and manicures and drooling after the pool boy."
As if.
She wrinkles up her nose, sticks out her tongue and after giving you both a hug, returns to her seat, holding her cigarette out to the side
From the back: "Oolong, yes...yes... black currant... must be Lily. Only keep it for you..." The voice of Madame Wong, kindly. Who could know that she could best most of the Yakuza in her martial arts stylings? It's like watching Santa pull out a bazooka to blow away the easter bunny...
There rises in the air the smell of herbs and tea...
Dot takes a puff-puff, grinning. "Your hair is long, Jesus. Doesn't your head hurt? How you been, dahlin? It feels like aaaaaaages," she sighs, looking to Lily she grins, then holds out her hand. On it, a big shiny ring. "Check out the real estate, goils...."
"I think we all must have synchronized our internal clocks," Fiona agrees with a small laugh, giving her head a little shake that sends her hair rippling, the edges of her mouth tucking inwards. "It's good to see you both - it has been a while, hasn't it? A lot of water under the bridge." Of course, just which bridge she isn't saying.
She shrugs her shoulders with studied nonchalance at Dot's 'sort of'. "The pool boy stands up well, then, does he? In or out of his briefs?" What? No blush? She returns the hug and moves towards the table with a small grin still held inwards, easing carefully down into a chair. "Nice kilt, Lils. Dot, you must've paid half your boob job for those shoes, unless you managed to wrestle them away from some of the girls at the clubs." Not impossible, after all.
She looks over her shoulder in the direction of 'the voice' blinking almost solemnly for a moment, eyes still adjusting from daylight to inside-light. "Oolong," she agrees, half-resignedly. Still, it's good to be back - it's almost as if she never left.
Well, no, not really, but she can pretend a little...
"You get used to it. I like it this way," Fiona answers temperately, turning her attention back onto Dot, hands folded in her lap. "I've been going through some changes and letting my hair grow, mostly." One eyebrow then goes upwards. "Nice ring," she half-quips, though not without sincerity. "Whose cock does it go through?" And she's still not blushing. Indeed, she seems almost relaxed.
Dot's embrace is accepted with a smile and laughter. "You sure you can hug me, woman? Look at you, all primped up... you'd think I'd smudge sumthin' if I do this too much..." Lily comments, her voice and expression full of her laughter... always was the teasing type, of course. "Pool boy? Geezus H, Dot... that's it, I'm comin' home with you!" Hearing the comment about him from Fiona, she howls again, playfully elbowing her, "Ahhh! You kill me! In or out... Christ that's great! Oh... the kilt? Thanks... someone I know thinks it's a bit too short, I'm bettin', but tough shite, eh?"
For all her roughness, she really does have some class. She doesn't sit straddling the chair while in a short-short kilt... though if she were wearing pants? It wouldn't have been an issue. Slipping into the free chair in a ladylike manner, Lily glances over her shoulder and calls out, "Thank you, Madame Wong! I wuv youuuuuuu!" This last is crooned in a cutesy voice that ends in an abrupt, but warm laugh, and a great big grin. Looking back at her companions, she adds, "She's great... I begged for that tea to be kept in stock. She said she would, providing I come in at least once a week... I come in three times a week if I can!"
"That is long," she agrees with Dot, admiring the long locks of Fiona. "Drance... that's -got- to take you forever to brush out... but if it works for ya, I'll shut the hell up now." Another grin flashes across her face. Glancing first at Dot, then at Fiona, and finally down at her shirt and kilt, she snickers and says, "Well, don't I feel like the poor cousin?" This is said all in good humour as she shrugs out of her coat. Blinking at the ring being held out, she gasps, "Dot! That's so beautiful--Drance! You're terrible!" This is squealed out as she gives Fiona a tap on the shoulder, all in fun.
Dot's mouth puckers around her cig, her free hand reaching to remove it and tap away the ash, she smiles coquettish. "Sieg's nine-incher, of course," she wrinkles up her nose again, grinning coyly -- only ironically so. "Or rather maybe it's that I took it out of his hide. The shite proposed to me last night, didn't take me to dinner mind you. We'd just finished shagging, he went into the living room, strapped on his guitar and.... full amp, no lie...he sang BB King's 'Marry Me', and I said hell yes..."
She wiggles her fingers and the smile's more true then. She is in love. "He's giving up thoughts of LA. I told him I wasn't going to marry him if we couldn't stay in Europe. I quit the Gory on the spot. Sorry, didn't mean to make it all about me, but... it's all about me!" she jokes. "I just love looking at it sparkle..."
The oldest woman on earth is moving slowly, her face, wrinkled by life and experience, wholly conquered by a big, warm smile. She is rolling a cart with one cast iron kettle and another bronze. "Oolong.... black currant... we have a special today, Miss Lily. My son," the heroin distributor for South London, "... is making ginger cookies... I will bring some..." She dutifully sets out the kettles, the cups and saucers -- all different, bric-a-brac from a war long past. No cream. No sugar.
"Well, mazel tov," Fiona answers with a relaxed grin. "I knew you two were perfect for each other the minute you two met, you know. Do Sir and Ma'am know yet?"
She slouches down a few inches in her seat, then straightens back up, lifting the heavy drape of her hair up and back over the back of her chair with a grin to Lily. "What makes you think I brush it myself? - No, actually, I do. It's not so bad. You get used to it." And magic makes it go faster, but she's hardly going to say -that-.
"Someone thinks your kilt's too short?" Both pale eyebrows arch upwards swiftly at that. "You holding out on us, Lils? - Wow. I should try to get myself a deal like that for tea, but you know, I'm so seldom in London these days..."
One foot lifts to rest a booted heel on the rung of her chair, and she leans forward, both hands laid one atop the other on the edge of the table now as she alternates listening and speaking, grinning, then eyes lighting up. "Ginger cookies? More radiant than a thousand suns, I offer up my thanks. I love ginger. And cinnamon. And ... well, alright, food, let's face it. Anything but apples, I've rather ... gone off ... apples for a while."
Fiona grins as she turns back to Dot, then. "Well, congratulations, Dot. Really - when's the big day going to be, anyway? And are you going to do the deed here or over in Iceland where the fishes swim?"
"Wow... Dot... congratulations!" Lily says with a big smile, which quickly scrunches up with her face before she speaks again. "A bit of a cruder proposal than I'd want... but hell, as long as -you're- happy -- and it looks like you are!" The smile reappears once more. She's in a good mood... so it's nearly permanently plastered across her blue and black painted features.
"Ahh! Black current... the best tea in the best tea palace anywhere!" Lily exclaims excitedly at Madame Wong. "Thank you... ooh, ginger cookies? Fabulous! Thank you... and I've had a horrible sweet craving today..."
Hearing Fiona's question about holding out, Lily flushes a pink, then says, "Well.. no... and maybe yes? I don't know. See, I'm living with this guy... but it's not what you think! He's old. Tries to be my father, you see." She snorts at this, then says, "But he's gotten me a job, bartending." Gotten her off the streets, it sounds like. "He just looks out for me... nothing more though! His name's Jack. Good guy, but he's always trying to get me to eat, saying I'm too thin..." This last is more of a grumble.
Finally, she spits out, "But... I'm kinda seeing this guy. He's kinda cute... name's Doug. Not much else to tell right now." The pink has gone a little deeper, but she grabs at a kettle to pour her tea to ignore it.
"Yeah, Dot... when and where? Details! Details!" she deflects the attention from herself to her friends now. "And how about you, Drance? There's gotta be someone... and why are you off of apples?"
Dot looks at Fiona a bit oddly. Apples? What the fuck? She glosses right past that for now. Fiddle-dee-dee, as Scarlet would say. "Sir and Madam know, yes," Dot puts on her posh Kensington accent, you know, the one she grew up with, and then she smirks. "Poolboy notwithstanding," she teases, "... it's been good to be home again, and they're happy. Sieg's from a hardworking family. They can appreciate that you know," she sniffs, lowering her voice and looking suddenly uptight, "backbone of a country is the common labouring man," a good rendition of the Lord Henry Walters of Kensington.
She extinguishes the cigarette, smiling to Madame Wong, "You're a peach, Madame Wong -- tell Li I said hi, I hear his restaurant is doing well..."
Madame Wong nods her head to each of you and smiling walks slowly back to the back of the shop, along with the rolling cart...
"We haven't decided on a date exactly. I'm thinking Halloween might be good, but I'm sure Sir and Madam will not want that. Summer's too early... so we'll see. I'd like to have a BDSM reception for a All Hallow's Eve wedding, I thought... that'd be something for the Society Papers, but I didn't want to give Sir a cardiac. It'll be nice, a good party, retro-something here in London, we'll honeymoon in Iceland, I think... see his family....But really, that's enough about me. So, tell us about this bloke, Doug," she smirks. "Two men? Lily, you little cock tease, I never knew you had it in you!" Dot winks to Fiona, "...and yeah, little missy, what about you. Miss TV Thing, Miss Beeb, Miss I Never Write Or Call..."
"Older men have their place," Fiona murmurs, an odd little smile playing over her features. Then, abruptly, she flushes a bit, and shakes her head. "Good on you, job and everything. And a boyfriend? Well, well - sounds like you have your kit together, haven't you?" She shrugs nonchalantly. "Oh, as for apples, I ... sort of overdid it, and you know how it is - too much of a good thing can be wonderful, but for a while you're a bit sick of it. Though I made a batch of hard cider which should be ready about my birthday. Maybe by then I'll be ready to brave it, right?"
Bravery indeed, considering...
She straightens again from her slight forwards-lean, smirking at Dot. "You can't have the wedding on Halloween unless you don't want me to be able to turn up - my birthday, remember? - Why not go for a compromise? Early fall, maybe - sort of a harvest westering home thing. Gives an excuse to stoke up on the alcohol to chase off the encroaching chill before people've had time to get used to the shift in weather, too." She winks. "I know you love to make Sir and Madam pay for your pleasure, after all."
She stretches, arching her shoulders back until there's a quiet popping in between, then tips her head first one way and then the other. "Mmf. Bit of a crick in my neck," she remarks placidly.
Both hands are held up defensively, palms outwards as she then chuckles. "I've been sort of busy myself, you know," Fiona defends, "...but I'm not currently working, as it happens. Actually, I... well, I've said goodbye to unicorns."
Snorting at Dot and getting all flustered, Lily protests, "Two? No no... the old man... he just watches out for me! He got me a job... half the time he's not even there. Geezus, Dot." Laughing, she shakes her head and nods at the two of you, "Yeah... the boyfriend is Doug. We're still getting to know each other, but... well... he's... yeah. He's a boyfriend." She's being rather tight-lipped about him; he's got to be good in bed -- which means either they know each other to be sleeping together, or she's being a really bad girl and throwing caution to the wind. She was never one to just spill such details, for all her exuberant attitude. "But yeah... a job, and a boyfriend... and food on the table and all that. Movin' on up in the world, or sumthin'."
Turning to Dot, she comments, "Halloween'd be awesome, but yeah... if it coincides with a friend's birthday, that just wouldn't be good! A fall one would be lovely, though, you're right, Drance."
Apples... eating too many of them. She's heard of drinking too much vodka or too many martinis, but eating too many apples? Okay. She shrugs and passes on by that one with just a, "Fair enough."
But she's confused about something, glancing back at Fiona. "Unicorns?" she quirks.
"Yeah, I don't know... Harvest wedding might be good. I'll have to think about it. Sieg wants something in the summer, in Greece. But that's just because he's only seen the sun twice in his lifetime," painted lips spread at the brim of a tea cup steaming with the flavors of Oolong.
She looks to Lily, grinning. "That good, huh? Dougie's a powerhouse -- Lily's found her Mr. Goodlove..." or Goodwrench as the case may be. But it's the unicorn statement that grabs her attention, before she can grill Lily on the finer points of Doug, namely Doug's point. She puts down the cup and puts both hand on the table. "You haven't..." she whisper.
"You have!" she gasps. "You've actually had sex... the last virgin in England is no more! I knew something was different about you... you're all mellow and relaxed and not groaning when I mention Sieg's cock. So-so-so! Out with it! We'll get to Doug in a minute, I want details," she says to both of you. "Who is he? Or was he?" Her eyes go wide. "That Hugh fellow? Or the blonde? Or that bloke, the rich one... the one with the castle," she snaps her finger, "Mr. Big...."
"Well, you've still got some time to think about it," Fiona says peaceably, tapping the rim of her cup and turning it three times, clockwise. "It's still spring, after all." And she should know...
"Well, congrats, Lils. You'll have to let us know how it goes - I want regular updates, mind." Fiona grins lopsidedly, then proceeds to go beet red at Dot's whispered, then gasped statements, right to the ears. "Dot!" Not in -public-!
She slinks down a few inches in her seat, muttering, "You're making me sound like a regular tramp, bringing my name up in connection to all these different men. And no, the Mr. Big you're thinking of," her voice suddenly goes both dry and humourous, "isn't into women, is married to another man, is French, and is entirely too big for the likes of me. Maybe you'd be interested in the idea, but I'll pass, thanks - as it is, Davydd's a bit grumpy about him."
So now there's a name attached, at least...
She blinks owlishly at Lily, then shakes her head, muttering, "Uh, well, you know. Virgins and unicorns. So - no more unicorns." She turns to prim up her expression a bit in Dot's direction. "I don't know if you've ever met Davydd, though I think you had him pointed out to you once or maybe twice. And, well..."
She looks a bit sheepish, really. What's she hiding? Casually, she rests one hand on the table, bringing her teacup up to her lips with the other. "Um, I've known him a bit over two years, actually," Fiona admits. "...We couldn't stand each other, or that's what we told ourselves. It's ... been about two, three weeks now."
"Mm... Greece might be nice, though..." Lily suggests with a shrug, then goes absolutely brilliantly red as she hears Dot go on about Doug being a powerhouse. "Oh stop!" she squeals, then hides behind her own cup, sipping at her own tea. Black currant's her favourite.
The red slips from her cheeks as attention shifts over to Fiona... and she breathes a sigh of relief, only cut short as Dot reassures that she's not out of hot water yet.
There's a blink as her cup is lowered. "Drance... you.. you didn't! Oh my god that's simply brilliant!" she exclaims in strained whispers. Though her excitement and amazement isn't hidden, she is at least a little more... reserved and discrete than the blunt, plaid princess. She shoots Dot a look, then laughs, "You're awful." Reaching out, she lightly smacks Dot in the shoulder with the back of her hand... she always was the touchy-feely type.
Glancing back over to Drance, she stares, bug-eyed. "Damn... well... it's about time, girly. Ooh, Davydd. Sounds simply dashing. You've known him two years... and three weeks." There's a look back to Dot with a smirk. "But who's counting, hm?" she teases, rolling her blue and black painted eyes.
Manicured fingernails tap on her teacup as she lifts it and lifts a plucked-just-so eyebrow in thought. "Davydd, Davydd, Davydd," she says, "You know... I know you knew a Davydd. I'm not sure I ever met him. Is he the one that kept calling you? And I can't help it," she leans in, whispering to them both, "...if you had an army of men hanging around you, and I'm not even counting D," Dei that is. Amadeus.
Dot waggles her eyebrows and sips her Oolong tea. The best Oolong this side of Hong Kong. Elbows on the table, Dot grins, "...so... how was it? How is he? Tell us all about him. You're required to kiss and tell when it's your first time. It's law," Dot smirks. "Sounds like one of those movies. Girl meets boy, girl and boy can't fucking stand one another, girl and boy fuck, girl and boy fall in love...so! Spill it, kitty!"
Turning to look at Lily, she reaches over and gives her a nudge. "I'm not awful, enquiring minds simply have to know! Besides, I told mine. You've told yours. Everyone does it," Dot points out. Then looking over to Fiona, she winks, "Eventually. Come on, Fiona... it was the moment you waited for all that time. Was it worth it? Romantic? Is he a .... generous lover? Well hung, what?"
"He kept calling, yes," Fiona murmurs, colour creeping gradually up - and up. "I don't know how brilliant it is. I mean, the last I heard, they didn't require an intelligence test before people start spreading their legs, you know."
She snags a cookie for herself, then ends up holding onto it without eating it just yet as she faces off with ... questions.
"It's the side effect of having been a virgin so long," she grumbles. "Men aren't necessarily interested in you, just in getting to be the one to pop the balloon." It's apples she said she was sick of, not cherries, right?
"Um. How was it? It was..." She squeezes her eyes closed for a moment, almost freckling in her blushing. Ah, there's the Drancy we all know, right? "Honestly, I don't really know how to describe it. But we didn't fuck and then fall in love, okay?" One eye opens warily. "You should know me better than that, d'you think I'd just spread my legs because he pissed me off? I wouldn't have been a virgin past the age of ten!"
She takes another swallow of her tea, covering for her embarrassment. "God. Yes, yes... I mean, it was ..." She keeps descending into incoherence. "He's good enough in bed that I'm tempted to give up other pursuits. He wears me out. I mean, he got started the other night, and I couldn't get out of bed yesterday. He brought me breakfast in bed, too."
Okay, so technically breakfast was at seven at night, but who's counting...
"He does things - I'm not sure it's even legal to talk about it, let alone for him to do it." She laughs a little, and takes a bite out of the cookie, washing it down with another swallow of tea. "...I'd wait for him another twenty-odd years if I had to, but I'd rather not. He's gotten me greedy. Oh, and he's older than I am, so I suppose you could chalk it up to experience. ...Did I mention he's got tats?"
"Well, that's true... we all did have to share. I guess you're right... but here?" What will Madame Wong think? Well, would she care, really? Lily's unsure about that but shrugs even as more tea is consumed. She glances around a moment.
Where are those ginger cookies? Ah, right... she snatches her hand out and nabs one, taking a chunk off with her teeth. No dainty breaking it up and eating the small pieces. What fun is there in that? Cookies are meant to be munched on, dammit!
Nearly choking on the blasted thing, Lily laughs, grabbing a napkin and holding it up to her mouth. Taking care of that, she finally catches her breath and washes everything down with more tea. "Damn... coulda warned me before all that, eh?" she teases with a wink. "But, aye, it sounds like he's fantastic... wears you out and all that. Breakfast in bed? Well, at least he makes up for makin' ya all bowlegged..." Lily then blinks and blushes, not believing she just said that. She's not really -that- modest... she's just a bit out of her element. If she's talking about sex, it's in a private locale... or a club. Not a tea house. This is evident from her glance about the room, as though checking to make sure no one heard her outside of the table of three. "Tats, too? Damn. She gets all the luck, eh Dot? So.. I know you, Drance... you wouldn't just put out without -something- in the way of insurance... spill it."
This ain't exactly the tea room at Buckingham Palace...
Tats, eh? Dot looks intrigued, fingernails still tapping the cup in a musical way and she watches Fiona very closely, the hairy eyeball of an old friend. "Well, he sounds like he's considerate, that's good. Energetic in the sack. Tats?" She smirks. Everyone has them these days. "Is he a musician or a former marine?"
"Or a footie player?" Footballer, that is...
Dot looks over to Lily and puts on her best I Can't Believe You Just Said that! look. "Lily... " then she winks, laughing and sitting back with her Oolong. She curls a smile at Lily's interrogation. "Are the tats anywhere..... interesting? Or just the same ole punk or rocker bullshite? And what does he do for a living? Other than shag you rotten, that is..."
She's just loving this. Inside, she's very happy for Fiona. But she is having fun with all the Spanish Inquisition like questions. Just call her Torquemada...
"Me, do anything with insurance?" Fiona's eyebrows both arch upwards sharply, and she snorts. "Come on, Lils - you know me. When've you ever known me to, when I decide to do something, plan it out like that? I made sure he didn't already have a girlfriend or a wife, and ... we talked about things a bit, but I didn't go into it with any real agreement. I mean... that doesn't mean things haven't developed."
She takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly, looking down at her teacup with a small curving smile. "Mmm... considerate," she murmurs, smile turning into a bit of a silly grin before she blushes and forces it down.
"Hm? Oh, actually he's a musician." Fiona looks back up, almost guiltily. "And ... well, you could say they're uh, interestingly placed, yes. Arms, chest, back, and ... um." The colour -had- been receding, but now it returns anew as she blushes. "He's ... well. Remember what the band was thinking of making Sieg get done?"
Yes, that's right ... needles ... there...
"And I guess you could say I've gotten some insurance," Fiona adds to Lily, suddenly looking rather distinctly smug. "I'm horribly besotted with him, you know." As she says that, she glances down to her hand where it rests on the table - and more to the point, to the ring she wears.
White gold... dainty rounded diamonds arranged around the central stone ... a marquis-cut ruby of rather stunning size and clarity, with the deep, deep wine and blood tones of the antique ruby ... Massive, really. Gorgeous. And priceless.
Between that and the sex - no wonder she looks smug?
At Dot's look, Lily flushes even deeper, looking down into her cup with a bit of a silly grin. Yeah, I can't believe I just said that either.
She busies herself finishing off her tea and pouring more for herself, then grabbing at another cookie. Let Dot do the interrogating... she's good at it, and obviously more comfortable doing so -- no matter where they all are.
Laughter finally erupts from her, "Anywhere interest--oh, oh wow... Really?" That got her attention. Tea and cookies are temporarily forgotten. She winces at the thought of getting tattoos -there-. Blue lips form a perfect 'O' as she blinks, surprised by that. "Dot... seems she's got herself quite a -man-. And a -musician- at that. I'm so jealous. Mine's just a handiman." There's a look shot to Dot again, a narrowing of the eyes, a pursing of the lips...don't go there, Dot. She knows you too well.
"Well, Drance... you may just do what you want when you decide to, but to 'give up unicorns'," borrowing the new phrase, "without something for insurance. I mean, you're not the type to just shag-and-go."
Then something shiny catches her eye; a ring. Dark eyebrows lift suddenly as she exclaims, "Oh wow! Look at that!" She reaches out and takes Fiona's hand suddenly, yanking it over to her to look at it. "Darlin', this looks old! As in antique old. I've never seen anything like this in the shop windows... and I knew it! You friggin' tease. You've been holdin' out on us since you walked in!" she says with a chuckle.
"Holy crap, you've the fucking crown jewels on your finger," Dot says admiringly, leaning in -- since she was beaten to the grabbing punch by Lily. She looks up from the ring to Fiona's face. "A musician who obviously makes a nice livin, look at that, it's gorgeous, and why weren't you screaming out at the top of your lungs when you came in, you little minx, letting ~me~ go on and on about my own!" She smiles and suddenly she's up and out of her chair, throwing her arms around her oldest friend, "I'm so happy for you..."
I'm not crying! Her expression insists as she pulls away, wiping at her eyes. Damn dust. Anyway. "So! He has a tattoo on his jimmy?" Dot grins ear to ear, "...that must mean there's enough to decorate, congratulations. I can't convince Sieg to do it. He says there's not enough heroin in the world to mellow him enough for that," she smirks, "...fucking coward. I'll have to tell him your boyfriend is better than he is, and sexier," Dot snorts. "And there's nothing wrong with a handiman, Lily," Dot says oh-so-sweetly, "... as long as he's...handy. He sounds like he's a shag-and-a-half. And it's good he has a steady job. More than most can say these days..." She pulls Lily in for a hug, too. "I'm sure he's the fucking tops..."
"So... what are the tattooes like? You're going to have to tell me, since I well imagine that you're not going to let him show me," red-painted lips curl a smirk and she digs for another cig. "Painted all over. Mmm... sounds delightful. Is he tall, short, thin, fat, what? Punk, mod, rock?" As if you'd go for some country man...
"Well, he's g- ack!" Fiona ends up bumping into the edge of the table, sending teacups dancing just slightly as her hand's yanked upwards. She wasn't expecting that, apparently.
"It's old, yes, I suppose you could say it's ... been in the family a while," she answers, putting her other hand in front of her and leaning back out slightly. "And why would I scream? Come on, Dot - you've been looking for someone who'd take care of you properly," in and out of bed, "for a lot longer than I have. You're allowed to show it!"
Oof. And now she's being hugged. In public, no less. This is where the English overrides the faerie bits; awkwardly, she pats Dot's arm. "Yes, he's got a tattoo on his ... jimmy. I, uh, haven't any complaints. He got it done an awfully long time ago, though. And now, don't tell Sieg that, he might encourage you to give mine a try, and I'd be rather irritated if you did." Try, that is.
She turns to offer a slightly sheepish grin to Lily. "He only asked a few days ago. It's all ... fallen together like this rather quickly. And Dot's right - there's nothing steady about music. You're going to drag him with you to the wedding, right?"
A glance back over her shoulder at Dot, and Fiona shakes her head, amused. "You could ask him to show you, but I don't think he'd be much obliged. Dragons. And ... he's tall ..." Her eyes lose focus just slightly for a moment, lips curving into a slow, private grin. "Broad ... Welsh ... mmm. And he's just himself, not really 'anything'. He's playing tonight, as it happens."
Looking up to Dot as she hugs Fiona, Lily replies, "So typical of her, eh? Letting us go on without sharing her news... always did have to beat it out of her, eh?" There's a wink offered to Fiona as she adds more softly, "Sweets, I'm so happy for you. This is so amazing." Then she releases the bejeweled hand after a quick squeeze is given to Fiona's fingers.
She's not as controlled as the plaid one. Grabbing a napkin, she dots it to her eyes as she sniffles, "Two weddings... oh wow. You two... look at what you've gone and made me do. Yer smearin' the makeup..." There's still laughter in her voice, in her face, despite the tears. She just can't contain her joy for her two long-time friends.
Looking up at Dot, she replies more softly, "Doug's a good guy. Mostly into watchin' footie and havin' brews with his mates. Kind of a homebody, I guess. Does a good job fixin' stuff." Good god, is she actually with someone who might eventually force this wild one to settle down?? "But... we haven't been seeing each other too long just yet. Who knows? Next week, could be someone else..." Though from the tone in her voice, she's hoping not.
"Sieg needs to just grin and bear it, eh?" she tosses at Dot briefly before going back to look at Fiona and her ring. "I knew it... it looks old. Don't make 'em like that anymore, I'm sure of it. And yeah, if we're still together, I'll drag him to both, girl. You know it. And... well, as for music, it doesn't seem to have hurt this one of yours if he's got stuff like that that's 'been in the family a while'. Geezus H."
"Dragons?" She gives a low whistle at that. "Wow... not just a heart with 'Mom' in the middle... went for something fancy, something... ornate." Again, there's that 'O' of blue lips.
That must have hurt.
"He sounds absolutely dreamy... Where's he playin'? I dunno what I'm doing later, but maybe I'll try to pop in." Lily's always game for a good show.
Cig lit, smoke rings blown -- she tried to make a heart but it just came out as a wiggly circle -- Dot smirks, watching her old formerly virginal friend all but squirm in her seat. "You do got it bad, Eliza," she puts on her worst sort of cockney -- ha! cock and Dot, what are the odds! -- and just grin-grin-grins, eyeballs to painted lips.
"From a good family. Ma and Pa Arundel will be roundly excited by that. So... have you told them and has he met them, more importantly. Or are the two of you planning to elope? I thought of it, mind you... but the mums-squared would kill me," hers and Sieg's. "Welsh?" her eyes bug out slightly. "I didn't know there was that much money in all of Wales, let alone in one bloke...but... sounds ...interesting. Dragons? A Welsh nationalist, then?" She laughs a little. Well you know, the Welsh and their dragons...
"Okay, so he's playing tonight and we're sitting in Madame Wong's Tea Palace because...." why? Well, for the ambiance certainly, "... where's he playing? Betty's Boobs? Any place I'd know? We should go see him! I want to check him out... you want to go, Lil?" she turns to Lily. "I'm up for it." She pauses, leaning in to whisper, "... Doug sounds like a real man's man. Backbone of England. You'll have to tell us about his bone later...."
"Oh, come on, you two," Fiona protests, though laughingly. "You know I tell when there's something to tell." Maybe not all of what's to tell, though. "Just when was the last time I had anything to tell? He's wonderful. A proper bastard of course - I tried to break his nose, once," she admits unreservedly. "But that wasn't his fault."
She leans over to pat Lily's shoulder with a quick shake of her head. "We haven't decided anything yet, so don't worry - promise, you won't miss anything. But you can drag Doug along to all the festivities. Dot, are you going to wear white at yours?" One eyebrow cocks upwards at a humourous slant, lips twitching. "We'll have to interview this new bloke of Lils', though."
Another twitch of the lips at the commentary on the age of the ring. "Nah, you don't sell things like this if you don't have to, Lils - you hold onto them. They gain cachet that way, you see, by gathering dust. But yes, he's got dragons. Lots of dragons. And I admit it, I've got it bad..." Mmm. For just a moment, the grin goes a little silly, unashamedly wide, and then she presses her lips together, concentrating on getting her expression back under control.
"Mother and daddy know I've met someone. Haven't told them yet about this," the finger with the ring is wiggled, "and he hasn't met them yet, though we've got plans to go there for Passover. My grandparents are there - god help him if grandmum finds out he's got tattoos, you know she'll be insisting on showing off hers and mother'll be having fits all over the place." Now Fiona rolls her eyes; there's a place she doesn't want to go so much. "We haven't discussed wedding plans yet, honestly, except in the very abstract. We've been, um, busy."
Busy shagging...
"I suppose you could say he's a Welsh nationalist," Fiona agrees cautiously, biting her lower lip. Well - he's a medieval Welsh prince. Doesn't that count? "And he's playing at Black Jack Davy's. Why, do you two want to go round and crash in on his set? I don't mind showing off - he's worth looking at, in my opinion. But his music isn't really punk, you know..."
Lily turns in her chair and fishes some tissue out of her coat pocket, remains turned politely and blows her nose. Crumpling it up and shoving it back in the pocket, she turns back and mumbles, "Ah, sorry... you know me... Emotional Lil, right? Heh. This is just bloomin' beautiful, that's all. Sorry gals."
She looks at the hand patting her shoulder and smiles. "You'll both have to let me know if I can help at all. Prep. Planning. Stress-relief..." Glancing down at her cup, she grasps it and chuckles through sniffles, "Damn. It's gone cold..." Grinning stupidly at Fiona, she says, "LOTS of dragons? The guy's gotta have balls of brass. That's fantastic. And you do have it bad, by the looks of it. And at least he and yer grandmum will have something in common, eh?" There's another wink at this. "Oh, and who cares if he's not punk? Though I love it, punk ain't the end all to be all. If he's got talent, lets hear 'im, I say. Dot, you into doing some crashing later?" That's more like the old Lil.
Wow. What is this world coming to? Two punk princesses are gettin' married. Both to musicians. And hers is a handiman. Ah, well, we can't all be so lucky, eh? Besides, it's the personality, right?
"Oh, well now..." She flushes again as Dot goes on about Doug's 'bone' and there's talk of interrogating him. "Don't you bints be scarin' him off and all... he's a good guy, if a bit quiet. Even a bit... hrm. Odd? No. I think he just doesn't socialize much, so sometimes he says things, then catches himself, realizing what he was saying..." What? Shaking her head, she grins, "But he's kinda cute. We're not talkin' gettin' hitched or anything...just kinda gettin' to know each other."
"Well, you can take the punk girl out of a club but you can't get her off the lap of real freaks. Sounds like we have three peas in a freak pod," Dot chortles. "One with piercings here and there and a penchant for bisexuality," that would be her Sieg, "... one with dragons all over his cock distributing the Queen Mother's lost rings," not far off actually, "... and the other is a sexgod traveling incognito as a handiman. Well ladies," Dot offers, "... if I must say so myself sounds like we found our dreambeaus..."
She smirks at Fiona, and also at herself. "And two girls who swore while holding to their firm little titties their favorite vinyl albums like God's Own Book -- I held Iggy Pop and The Clash and Neil Diamond," a fan of irony to the end, "... that they'd never ever date musicians. We were critics of the artform. Muses yes, girlfriends no. And now look at us, engaged, sweetie-darling, to musicians." Dot sighs, "... we sold out, kitten..."
She looks to Lily, "I keep telling myself that Sieg is really and truly just a fisherman from Iceland, like his pops, and that the music thing won't last so I won't feel like I have a corporate tattoo on my ass... I had to go get a clit ring just to balance it out." Hard to tell if she's serious about that, it's a 50/50 thing. "Okay okay! So! We'll go see the show, but before we do," Dot leans in, "...it's time for some serious girl-gossip. Quick rundown -- favorite place you've shagged so far. I'll go first -- the private sushi room at Mio's," the Japanese restaurant where businessmen eat off of tables formed by the bodies of naked young women. "Your turn, lovelies..."
"Well, I don't know when we're going to do it," Fiona demurs to Lily, with an easy shrug of her shoulders. "I'll certainly keep you posted, though - might have a small wedding followed by a bloody big blowout though. See, this is why I haven't told mother - she'd try to take over, and I don't think Davydd'd cope well."
Neither would her mother, cope well.
She picks up her tea, draining it almost to the dregs, cold or not. She needs a drink before she starts getting misty-eyed. She's going to need something stronger than tea, at this rate.
"Who cares if he's a handiman instead of a musician? As long as he can play you, Lils," Fiona grins, just a little bit wickedly, "right? And don't worry, I've met Sieg so I know he's odd. Davydd's ... a bit out there himself."
She then turns to smirk at Dot. "Oh, come on - if anyone knows freaks, it's you, love. And you know perfectly well I had to sell out on those little vows if I was going to get laid at all."
Laid, end to end and back again, from the look of her, innit? "Even if the music thing lasts, I'm sure he'll shag you rotten, so it'll balance anyway. I mean, he proposed, didn't he?" Well, it makes sense in the obscure landscape of Fiona's brain.
"Mio's? You didn't. In front of ...? Dot!" She's blushing, but she's also laughing. Better Dot than her. "Favourite place. Um... well, we haven't been terribly public about it. I'd probably have to say on top of the piano in the music room of Powys Castle."
...That isn't public, it's home, after all. She turns to look inquisitively and bright-eyed at Lily. "Go on, Lils," Fiona urges. "If I confessed, so do you..."
"Freaks are as freaks do," Lily chimes in with a lopsided grin, still sniffling but not all teary-eyed at least. "If we weren't freaks, we'd be boring, right?" Makes sense to her and for some reason, the thought comforts her. Doug can be Mr. Backbone of England, but she'll always be punky Lil. "Dot... you may have swore it, but now you're in the middle of it and oaths be damned. It means nothin' if you find true love, right?" That's a sobering thought. A serious look actually passes over the young woman's face for a minute. "Who cares what they do so long as there's love, right?" To that, she raises her cup and downs the cold remains of the black currant tea.
"Bah! Drance! You can't elope... then we won't be there!" Lily looks rather distraught about this thought, in truth... well, not quite. There's still a hint of laughter in her voice at it. There'd be disappointment, at least. "However, if yer mum'd be that much of a pain in the arse, I have to say I can't blame ya. They do that, I hear." Not that she'd know. She hasn't had a 'family' in years, being a streetkid and all. But that doesn't seem to bug her. "Weddings bring out the worst in some people, so watch it. Yeah, eloping might actually be better... let your mum throw a fit. I bet grandmum would be laughing her fool arse off about it, by the sounds of it." She winks again and grins. No more seriousness now.
"Lord... Dot, you just don't quit, do ya?" But then Dot's shared her secret and Fiona's done the same, and her jaw is left to drop open. "Geezus H! Dot... you didn't!? Wow... even I've not been so ... public? Wow. Good on you, tho'... geezus. And Drance? A castle? Well, fuck me. Mine will seem boring now..."
She's gone about three different shades of red and her voice lowers, but Lily follows through on the confessions. "Well... I guess there's kinda two... the most public was under a fire escape in the alley behind the Gory. I was so drunk... that was a long time ago, though. The other... was actually at my little bachelor pad." There's a pause to let that sink in. Bachelor. One room. The door opens and you see everything. "When I didn't know what time Jack was coming home..." Naughty. She might have given the old guy a coronary.
Dot laughs -- she loves to be shocking as you both know, I mean, that's why she is as she is and who she is, ain' it? "I said the private sushi room. It was just me, Sieg and a geisha girl." Dot has her own penchant for bisexuality, afterall. "Well, okay, it was semi-private. I'm sure they heard us in the next room, we may have also made some interesting shadow puppets. But it's not like I was taping a video or being shagged in a line by a bunch of men in suits." Well, not that night anyway...
Castle...
Wait a minute...
"Castle," Dot says, hand waving. "Powis Castle, the one with the gardens? My mom took me there when I was seven! You were there? How's that not public? You naughty little princess! And on a piano, no less..." She snorts a laugh and goes back to work on her cig. "Okay... next question. What's your favorite thing, and it doesn't have to be sexual but you get extra points for bravery, that your man does for you. Since I asked," again, her eyes flare with a satisfied smile, "... I'll go first. Sieg has the most... amazing.... and I mean it, it's not just because he's shagging me... finger technique. What he does on the guitar, he can also do on me. I fucking adore it," she all be meows it.
"Well, grandmum's tattoo is ah, something else, so I don't know. She's got a sense of humour about it, mind. She's ancient by now." Not compared to her fiance, of course...
"Mother'd try to take it over, very Westminster Abbey." Fiona makes a slight face, then slides down in her seat a few inches, laughing. "Love is important," she agrees fervently. "But I doubt we'll elope as such - just, well - we'll see, right? He does get some say in the matter. Not much - but some. Besides, he's a man, all they ever seem to want to know is where to turn up and where to stand, right?"
She smirks then, shaking her head at both women. "Powis is wonderful. I've been enjoying every minute of it. And I do mean every minute." Funnily enough, Dot isn't the only one who calls her a naughty little princess... must be catching. "Oh, god. You would ask that."
Now the colour's rising in her face again, though she's still not angry, from the look of her - gone beet red nonetheless. "Um. Well... I don't know that I've got a favourite, really. I mean, it's only been a fortnight! But ... there's this thing that he does..."
Her voice is sinking lower and lower and she's oozing down in her seat at the same time, shoulders shaking with poorly suppressed giggles. "With his tongue," Fiona finally manages to get out. "He's got a real thing for foreplay. I mean - a case of too much of a good thing. Which describes Davydd pretty well, really. But he ... really likes using his mouth. He's a mouthy git..."
The giggles threaten to burst out, and to cover, she turns to Lily demandingly. "Your turn, come on now, if I managed to get it all out, it's so your turn."
"Well, private or no... that's still... wow. Sushi room. How..." She doesn't even know how to finish that statement. "Just wow." Lily is amazed by her friend's boldness, but then again, she's easily amazed... and she should be used to Dot's bravery by now. "Though... video-taping the shadows would have certainly made for an interesting art film or something," she comments with a smirk.
Her cookie is grabbed, munched on, while Dot goes on. Bisexuals and castles and guitars, oh my. "A bloomin' castle," she muses around her cookie before it disappears. "Geezus H... you -are- a fucking princess. Good on you. A piano, though... I'd think that'd be painful, but then again, I haven't tried it, mind you. And just remember.. it's your wedding. Don't let yer mum ruin that. It's not hers. Remind her of that if you need to."
Glancing back at Dot, her dark brows quirk up again. "Wow... see? There's perks to being with musicians after all!" Lithe, talented fingers and all. "Damn... now I'm all jealous..." There's a wink. Perhaps Doug's good with his fingers, too? She's not saying.
Grinning at Fiona, she comments quietly with a wide-ass grin, "Well, Drance... it sounds like you really struck gold. No wham-bam-thankyou-ma'am for you, eh? Which, don't get me wrong... every once in a while..." A waggle of her eyebrows goes with that. Terrible. Dot's rubbing off on her, it seems. "Wow, well... fingers... mouth... you guys took all the good stuff." Maybe there's nothing left? Nah, she knows she can't get out of it that easily.
Joining Fiona in her blush, she goes thirteen shades of red. Yeah, yeah, it's ok to just say anything that is the favourite thing her guy does for her, but you two have gone on and gotten the extra points... peer pressure and all. Now it's her turn to squirm in her seat, nearly literally. Picking distractedly at her napkin, she says, "Well, if you must know..." Hah. Nothing like stalling, hm?
"Well... you see... um..." Thirteen shades of red just doubled in intensity. Blue eyes cast downwards, focusing on that napkin. "He... he well... does this move..." Pause, squirm. "It's with his hips, yanno? It's... well.. hard to describe. It's kind of a... swivel thing... and... slamandhold..." The last is said real fast as the crimson in her cheeks rises up to her ears now.
"Right from the start? That's not fucking fair. Do you know how long I've had to work on Sieg to help him perfect his tongue technique. I swear, I don't know how the man was eating before he met me. I mean, I had to get an Icelandic-to-English-to-Woman dictionary. 'Sieg, this is foreplay...no, not four-time...foreplay... like an overture to a symphony..." Dot rolls her eyes and smirks, "Good for you though, that he likes...he actually likes to do it? You better marry him wit' a quickness. Show me a man with a penchant for oral sex with a woman and I'll show you a really butch lesbian named Alice...okay, so I'm jealous..."
"Stop, drop and roll, baby," Dot laughs looking over to Lily. "You know, that's another thing that some guys just don't have, and that's some hustle in the bustle. It's like some guys thing the cock is it. The cock is just an extension of the whole man, you know? Back, leg, thigh, toes, hips, shoulders, heart and soul. Most just don't fucking get it, so good for you. Sieg at least throws himself all the way in and doesn't just poke the fuck around," Dot laughs.
"Okay, so we're all being shagged rotten. This is so much fun! Screw wedding talk... okay, let's see...what else... okay, most romantic thing you bloke's done for you? I don't have much to say here, because Sieg wouldn't know fucking romance if it pinched him on the ass and called him daddy. But, I guess... calling me every night from LA was his way of showing it to me. And he likes to make me french toast... he's not romantic but he's an amazing fuck and a good-hearted bloke. Fucking talented."
"I'm getting the feeling maybe I shouldn't drag you two over to see his set," Fiona grins, though with warmth. "You might go getting ideas. No, really, he's had a lot of experience before me - just because I was a virgin doesn't mean he was, you know! As for romance..."
She's slouched well and truly down in her seat, though at least the giggles have stopped. Nudging her tea cup further away, she folds her hands on her stomach, contemplating the question, smile turning faintly wistful.
Romantic? That's a hard question to answer...
The moreso since some of the most romantic stuff has also been the most important to keep under wraps. Hard to mention being dragged to Avalon, or given her pick of rings stolen by him over a period of hundreds of years...
"He spends a lot of time with me," Fiona finally says. "We talk a lot. He - this is going to sound fucking ridiculous, alright? Especially coming from me. But ... he takes care of me." There's a faintly wry twist to her mouth that's not entirely echoed in her eyes. Imagine, her, going all vulnerable and letting anyone take care of her...
"And, of course, he brought me breakfast in bed yesterday," she hastily adds in, trying to act casual and bring things more back to normal. "Fed it to me, too - after shagging my brains out to the point where I couldn't move. And he let me go back to sleep after. That's about as much romance as any of us need, right?"
She's still blushing, but nods at Dot, murmuring quietly, "He's... he's good. He makes me not want to get out of bed, lemme tell you. Sounds like we all have a little piece of something that makes it all grand, hm?" She finally finishes playing with her napkin as the topic strays a little away from the more embarrassing topics.
"Hah, Drance... we're not going to steal your man... even if we may be a little jealous," Lily comments with a big smile. "And, nah, it doesn't sound ridiculous, sweets. It's good that you've found someone who will do that. Take care of you, that is." Some could only be so lucky. Sighing, she adds, "Breakfast in bed... well... that is romantic -- in a 'I'm sorry I shagged you so hard that you can't walk' type of way..." Her blue lips quirk into a smirk again.
"Oh, and as for me... well, Doug's just sweet. I don't really know him well enough yet to say what's really romantic about him. He... I don't know. He makes me feel like I'm wanted, I guess. So many in the past viewed me as a trophy on their sleeve." So many in the past have done so... but that's a male punk for ya.
"So.. meh, ask me in a few months, maybe. It's still too early," she adds with a shrug.
"Okay, now it's time for some real truth," Dot says, crushing her cigarette to its death. She doesn't light another. Trying to keep it to half a pack a day. She counts them though, then puts her cigs back in her bag. "What annoys the holy living fuck... and don't give me that 'he's perfect' bullshite, there's no such thing. I'd sooner see a unicorn than a perfect Mr. Right."
Dot folds one leg over her other and smirks. "So... what annoys me about Sieg, hmmm..." she mulls out as she pours another cup of tea for herself, the kettle's still very hot. Steam rises. "So many choices. I suppose I'll start with the fact that he never fucking calls when he's going to be late and then just sort of shrugs when I throw stuff at him. I really hate that. But... hell... if he didn't annoy me, I wouldn't love him. These are some of his best qualities, loves-o-mine," Dot laughs out, setting the kettle back down.
"He can also belch the Icelandic alphabet. It's fucking disgusting..."
"Take all the time you need, Lils," Fiona teases. "After all, I don't expect everyone to be in as much of a hurry as I am. And let's face it - in my case, it's been two and a half bloody long years, we were just ... too stubborn."
She straightens up, hauling herself upright in her chair with nary a thought to how rumpled her hair must be getting, and leans forward to prop her elbows on the table, face resting forward in her hands.
"Well ... he's a pain in the arse. Doesn't take me seriously sometimes when I want him to - though he usually does at least halfway apologise for it when he sees I'm getting pissed. That does drive me rather wild."
What else, what else ... "He doesn't let me hit him? I mean, the time I threw a punch at him, I ended up slung over his shoulder and sat down for a talking-to. Which, well, admittedly I deserved, but ... we haven't really -fought- since we got together, so I don't know what'll happen."
Truth to tell, she's not entirely sure she wants to find out. All in due time, all in due time.
"Oh, and he's a big tease," she adds, grousingly, though it turns into a grin at the end. "Drives me wild until I try to hit him, or bite him, or ... something. He'll say the most bloody outrageous stuff, too, things which you just know I'd have to react to, like waving a red fucking flag in front of my eyes, the shit-stirring milk-sucker. And then before I can properly explode, he'll do something like drag me off to bed and use his mouth on me so that I can't really give him what-for properly - alright, that's not so bad, but how's a girl to properly express herself?"
She turns to look expectantly to Lily. "What about you, or still too much in the 'getting to know you' stage to really know?"
"Belches... the Icelandic alphabet." This is like a statement and a question at the same time. Lily makes a face, laughing at the same time, "Fucking nasty... and bloody brilliant at the same time. I'd -pay- to witness that some day. Just once, though... just so I could say I actually had." Awful. "Oh, and just get him a beeper and annoy the living fuck out of him until he calls. Crazy glue it to his favourite pants or something." Just a suggestion. She listens to the two other women at the table, shaking her head and laughing. "Men. Can't live with them, can't beat them with a stick, hm?" she finally says, grinning her fool head off. Her teacup is pushed back. She's done with cookies and tea for now, it seems.
"Well, Drance, is that really a problem? Driving you wild and then dragging you off to make wild monkey love? Geezus, you'd think that was a bad thing or something... in truth, I suppose I could hope that Doug tries that sometime. But, he's really more direct, I think..."
Eyes roll upward to glance at the ceiling as she bites her bottom lip, thinking for something to say as it comes around to her turn.
"Well, um, Drance you may be right... we really are in the 'getting to know you' stage.." even if it includes physically getting to know each other, as well. "Hm. Well... maybe something which might bug me down the road is... he doesn't dance. At all. I asked and he kind of looked at me like I was sproutin' a third head... nevermind a second one." She lets out a cackle, before continuing. "And he watches a lot of footy. I may have to get to the point down the road of standing in front of the telly to be noticed... I don't know. But so far, it's not at that point, and it's not like we're living together, so the dynamics are different, I s'pose."
Shrugging, she finally adds, "I guess I'll have to report back to you gals another time on that. Really, it is too early in the game for me, I think, to make any real judgment calls."
"Okay, last question and then I say we pack off for the pub, I need a stoli...anyway, okay! What's the one thing about himself, that you know so far anyway, that he'd hate for your girlfriends to know. And we all promise we won't tell, right? Scot's ...or is that Scout's? honor. And I have a biggie," and she all but wiggles (and butt wiggles too) in her chair.
"One, he's a total momma's boy. Very bad for punk cred, mind you, not so much good for the rock cred either, but he bends over backwards for his mom. Good thing I like her, adore her actually. She's such the dear-heart. In fact, she's the one responsible for me getting back in touch with Ma'am and Sir, to be honest. Isn't that sweet? He'd hate for you to know. He has less qualms about me talking about using a strap-on on him than he does about how he calls his mom nightly to talk to her."
Pause. Wait for it!
"He loves the strap-on, too. It's a nice electric blue to match his hair. He calls me Wonder Woman. It's like my superhero power. Batman has his utility belt and I have my wonder dick..." She is the all-time queen of TMI. Nothing has changed.
"Okay, so... spill it, girls! What is the one thing about your man that you know so far that he'd just cringe to know that your girlfriends know about..."
Whatever Fiona was about to say to Lily has just gone out the window; blue eyes go wide as saucers, and the colour shoots through her face like a rising waterline. "...Dot, you know, I'm so not going to be able to get that image out of my head, now, and I really, really didn't want for that to be my last image on earth."
It's a good thing, too, as it buys her time to think. She can hardly talk about him being a bloody faerie king, now can she?
"Really, though," Fiona resumes, easing her chair back a bit, "he has a bit of a privacy streak. Not shy, exactly, but he'd probably be a bit scandalized that I've told you as much as I have - or, oh, about how he rode me into the headboards for three hours the other night. After having me undress for him and all the rest of it... mmm. He goes utterly speechless, too, when I suck on his cock. And he does have a nice cock. Not that I've exactly done comparison trials..."
She has a look of being partially embarassed, but at the same time, partially very, very self-satisfied at the memory, grinning. "Oh! But I can top that, can't I? After all, we're dragging ourselves off to see him perform - and he knows I've been out with my girlfriends."
Fiona looks faintly dissatisfied. It's not all that shocking, is it? "Hmf. Sorry, I guess I lose points on that round."
"Well, being a momma's boy isn't the worst thing in the world...at least she's a good woman that you like..."
Something he'd hate for her girlfriends to know? Lily's face goes blank at this, even as Dot goes on about Sieg being a mamma's boy. Again, those eyes seek the sky as she worries at her bottom lip -- it's surprising there's still any blue there.
But then...
Strap-on???
Eyes whip away from the ceiling and stare at Dot. "By god, woman!!" she gasps, letting out another squeal. "You just have no scruples, do you? Geezus H. Lord. Okay, there is a mental image I really didn't need!" the punker in blue and black protests, flopping back in her chair. She may protest, but perhaps you can see the wheels turning. Intrigued? Perhaps. She's not a prude, really. You both know this. It's just all this talk... in -here-. She glances towards the back to see if Madame Wong is out of earshot at least.
Her head swivels back to Fiona as she says, "Well, at least we're not going to tell him we know, right? Well... but it might be fun making him wonder how much we do know, if anything." There's a wink. She's just pulling her leg. "But... wow... geezus. You two... Drance, you shag for a fortnight then get corrupted by this one over her," a thumb jerks at Dot, "and you're all about a loose tongue tellin' it all, eh?" Grinning wide, she adds, "Well... not that I'm complaining at least. Details can be fun."
Shaking her head, she murmurs, "Again, I'm out on this one. Too early in the game still. You keep asking all the hard questions... quiz me again after I do more research, eh?" Yeah, she's dull and boring compared to these two. Well, just give her time. "And yeah..." tossing out some cash on the table -- enough to cover for all three of you, "...let's go see this guy who's gotten Drance so smitten, eh? I've had enough of tea." Oh Jack, you're probably going to find her passed out on the floor again tonight after soaking in vodka all night.
After all of this... anything less would just not do.
"So when I meet him, which I'm going to do tonight," Dot is now insisting, "I shouldn't say, I hear you have a painted prick. What color is it, by the way? Multi-colored colored? It's not green is it? Ick!" Dot looks momentarily disgusted, then grins. "What?" she all but squeals. "We're all adults..." She laughs. "Well, mostly. Anyway, let's go get a new image... I want to see this Mr. Hot Fuck..."
Is that anything like Mr. Green Jeans?
Dot's gathering her things, in her heels she's a pinup giant, larger than life for a girl already rather tall. All that cage dancing has done her wonders, it seems. Got out just in time. A cage is no way to fall. "So, Black Jack Davy's... I know that place... I haven't been there, but I know about where it is. Rotten with famous footballers half the time. I see the ads for Fight Song Fridays damn near every week...it's a pub then, traditional?"
Traditional pubs are rather like punk music. Some folks are purists. Others hate commercialism. It's the same argument, just pints instead of chords, really.
"Alright, let's pile over. I can't wait to meet him!" Dot says. "I'm going all goose-pimply and girly!"
"It's semi-traditional. You'll like the waitresses. I hang there often - only heard of the place because of Davydd, as it happens, but it became a regular habit with me. If you weren't with Sieg, I'd've introduced you to Kelly - just to see what you two made of each other."
Fiona winks as she rises from her seat, nudging her chair in and pulling out some folded notes to be passed back to Madam Wong. "But they do keep Stoli vanil in stock, among others - we can go and get shite-faced and Davydd'll have to carry me home."
Absently, she smooths her hair back, then adjusts her vest with a low laugh. "You shouldn't, no, and it's blue. He's got," there's another laugh, almost a cackle, really, "permanent blue balls..."
Blue balls. Geezus.
Lily snorts at Dot and Fiona as she rises to her feet, pulling her trenchcoat back over her shoulders. "By Christ, you're crass, Dot. And you, Drance... you're just encouraging her, you know." Pause. Grin. "Don't ever fucking change, ok?"
The grin fades as she holds out her hand suddenly, out in mid-air. "Let's make a promise." What?
"Right here, right now. We may change on the outside... with what we wear, how we look, but in here," she holds her other hand flat against her chest, "we won't change. Sure... people -can- change because of lifestyle changes, men, and the like... and it's inevitable... but I mean, really deep down. The core won't change. We'll still be who we always have been. True to ourselves."
Always the dramatist, wasn't she? But she's rather serious about this, it seems.
Dot pauses at the doorway, looking back to the both of you. She's seen shit she could never say, done stuff she'll never admit, not even to you, at the highs and at the lows of herself that brought her, eventually, back home. She smiles a grownup smile suddenly, all of her twenty-four years piling on and she gives both girls a tight hug, smelling of Chanel.
"I promise to always be me," she says. Maybe that's cryptic. Maybe it's really the only sort of promise one can make and keep.
She pulls the door open with a riot of tinkling bells and holds it open for you both, taking that time to turn her ring around and hide the stone. It looks plain from that angle, you see. Hardly worth prigging...
"Blue, huh?" Dot issues out blithely, a very Scarlett O'Hara tone. Grinning, she follows you both into the alley...
Posted by rowan at April 01, 2004 05:23 PM
