Terri's Peep Hut ~~ Fiction Archive

Title: Write What You Know

E-mail: xgrrl26@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Archive: WRFA, Mutual Admiration, Peep Hut-everyone else, please ask.

Feedback: Sure, why not ;)

Summary: Sometimes things are best said without words.

Comments: Answer to Khaki's challenge. It's un-betaed, so don't blame Keli for anything therein. Now, my dear Khaki, would you kindly retrieve your extra-long-toothed super-fast attack bunny from my butt?

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The night was moist. The air was

"Don't you knock anymore, sugar?"

"Not since you moved outta that beehive and into your own room."

"So-whatcha doin'? Writin' somethin'?"

"I'm trying to do my creative writing assignment for class."

"It's a correspondence course, and I didn't think it would be hard, but it kind of is. I suck at writing. And creativity. Why didn't I remember that before I signed up?"

"Whatcha got so far?"

The night was moist. The air was

"I don't know, that's why I haven't finished typing that sentence. What do you think the air was?"

"I already said that."

"It's air, it can't be that wet."

"I see you're not big on the creative writing thing either."

"Hey, I'm plenty creative when the situation calls for it. I just ain't much of a writer."

"That's an interesting insight into your psyche, and yet it still isn't helping me get this done."

The night was moist. The air was airy. Birds were flying, bees were buzzing.

"God, I suck at this."

"Maybe you need to take a little break."

"I'm not helping you steal Scott's bike again."

"Why not? You don't got a thing for him or somethin' now that he broke up with Jeannie, do ya? 'Cause he's pretty much a dickhead."

"Well, then, come on, let's go for a little ride."

"What's your deal with Jean, anyway?"

"Your deal. With Jean. What is it? Um, anyway."

"You takin' any creative talkin' classes?"

"Shut up and answer me."

"Logic classes ain't on the schedule either, huh?"

"You know what I mean. You and Jean-you haven't jumped her since they broke up. I'm asking why not."

"Dunno. Don't wanna."

"She virtually drools when she's around you. She wants to."

"You've flirted with her for-well, for the two years that you've been back. You haven't even dated anyone else. And now that they're finally broken up and she's available-not only available, but practically throwing herself at you-you 'don't wanna?'"

"You do a pretty good imitation of me there, kid."

"Well, I've spent a lot of time observing you. Answer the question."

"Because I asked and I want an answer."

"No, I meant-why do you spend a lot of time observing me?"

"Well, because you spend most of your time right there in that spot. It's hard not to observe you when you're, you know, planted on my bed most of the time."

"Are you going to answer my question or not?"

"Why do ya think I spend most of my time right here?"

"It's your pathological need to protect me. You still have this feeling that some evil mutant is going to snatch me out from under your nose somehow and then you'll have to risk your life to save me again."

"Nah, that ain't it. Hardly nobody could ever get past Chuck's security, and I'd know if you were in trouble. I'd smell it if you were anywhere in this house."

"Well, what is it then?"

"I like the company."

"I ain't sweet, kid."

"You're right, you're not. You know what you are? You're evasive. Answer the Jean question."

"Got better things to do than chase her."

"Like sit on my bed and watch me write horribly bad prose?"

"Have you lost your mind? Jean's-she's your fantasy woman, and she's hot for you. She's available. She's flinging herself at you, you wouldn't even have to chase her."

"Fine, don't tell me what's really going on. Sit there and watch me write some more. That'll be punishment enough."

The night was moist. The air was airy. Birds were flying, bees were buzzing. Somewhere, off in the distance, a woman's best friend was pissing her off because he couldn't answer a simple question.

"I answered it, kid, you just ain't payin' attention."

"No, I paid attention. I just can't believe you'd choose to spend time with me over nailing Jean. I mean, that's-that's *sex*. You're passing up sex, and I know how much you like it, and especially how much you'd like it with Jean."

"I like other people besides Jean."

"Oh, come on, who? Name one person you've had a conversation with that wasn't mission-related besides me and Jean."

"Please tell me you don't want to have sex with him."

"Heh. No. But I talk to him."

"He doesn't count. He's like the mansion's Dear Abby. Everybody talks to Hank, everybody goes to him for advice."

"I lost track of the point. What was I saying?"

"Don't I know it. I wish I hadn't gotten so much of that from you. I'm on my third shower massage this year."

"I'd like sex with you."

"What-what did you say?"

"You know, finish up that story or whatever first, and then let's talk about havin' some sex. I think we oughta work up to it, maybe do a little plannin' on the logistics and-"

The night was moist. The air was airy. Birds were flying, bees were buzzing. Somewhere, off in the distance, a woman's best friend was pissing her off because he couldn't answer a simple question. He was also being a tremendous asshole.

"I ain't jokin', Marie. Look, I don't mean to be blunt, but you just weren't catchin' on."

"I mean, it's been two years. You're twenty now, and I just think it's time we-"

"Stay with me, Mr. Attentive. I said 'story's done.' Which means sex talk can commence."

"You're-uh-you know I've never seen your eyes glow quite that much."

"You gonna sit on toppa me for the sex talk then?"

"I think it's a good position. You don't like it?"

"Then let's go. On with the sex talk."

"You sure you got a long enough story there?"

"Uh-huh. Hey, were you just teasing me with that sex talk thing? Because I could-mmmph."

"Liked that, didya?"

"You're a superlative kisser, do you know that?"

"But that's not really talking, is it?"

"Oh, no sugar. No complaints at all."