leighblack: (Wicked - Dreams)
[personal profile] leighblack
As much as I bitch about work, you can probably tell that it gets a little bit stressful around here. Thankfully, now that [livejournal.com profile] wilowisp & I are friends, I have someone around to keep me sane and exchange Fail Blog pics with. There may occasionally be shenanigans. And perhaps some tomfoolery.

Zach is a writer and appreciates a well-written story, so when this excerpt of the fine book Silk and Steel by Ron Miller was making the rounds a couple weeks ago, I sent it to him. And it's kept us amused for days! We like to quote it to each other.

Then, last Tuesday, it was an especially rough day, I got stuck working late and I was starting to lose it. Kind of badly. I was emailing back and forth with [livejournal.com profile] seimaisin and she offered to treat me out for dinner to help distract me for the evening. Zach wandered over to steal candy since he thought I was gone (a ha!) and interrupted me just as I was telling Jaime that I'd love to go out to dinner. And Zach interjected that she should definitely take me out. And perhaps wear something saucy because then maybe she'd get lucky. Which cracked me up. I related this to Jaime and joked that 'maybe Zach ships us.' And a RIDICULOUS idea was born.

Zach wrote a fic about us. I beta'd a fic about myself. I live in a wonderfully weird world.

DISCLAIMER: Zach is a lovely writer. Please do not judge him on this! It's sort of a parody of Silk and Steel. And it's utterly awful and crazy. But I'm posting it to share this madness with all of you, because I know you'd want to read it. ;)

Title: Scent of the Gibbous Moon
Author: [livejournal.com profile] wilowisp
Pairing: [livejournal.com profile] leighblack/[livejournal.com profile] seimaisin
Genre: Crack!fic
Rating: teen
Spoilers: Ummm...The Rock Boat?
Beta: [livejournal.com profile] leighblack
Summary: Leigh had a hard day and Jaime invited her out to dinner.


She loved Whore bus.

Leigh sat on the couch in her apartment, laptop flipped open and the television on. She was wearing a ratty pair of pants and the most comfortable sweater she could find. The sweater was old and bulky, and did nothing to display her curvaceous womanly beauty, but dammit, tonight was about being comfortable. That’s why the clothes were old, the TV was on blaring about the lives of trashy rocker-stalkers, and the windows were open to let in the warming spring air. And any moment, Jaime would be over to take her to dinner - someplace greasy, hopefully, where too much of anything on the menu could kill you.

Another blonde bimbo accidentally exposed herself on screen, and Leigh laughed aloud, her ruby red locks cascading in waves over her shoulder. It was a bright laugh, one that resounded through the room. Leigh couldn’t help it. The ladies were too funny.

Her stomach grumbled angrily at her as she paged through more twitter logs. “Hush,” she admonished it. “We’ll eat soon, I promise.” Her stomach fell silent, petulant. A warm breeze slipped in between the blinds, and she half-mindedly smiled. Though there were many leaked albums she had to share with the people of the interwebs, it would be nice to get outside and enjoy the surprising spring that had sprung.

Leigh looked at the clock. Nearly 6. Where was Jaime? Leigh arched her back and yawned, her lips parting like playful kittens. It had been a rough week, and she didn’t feel like being out late. The only reason she was being enticed away from her couch was because Jaime had offered to take her to dinner, and she couldn’t say no to Jaime. Where is that girl? she thought to herself, tossing herself back into the plushy embrace of the couch.

As if summoned by her thoughts, there came a knock on the door. It startled Leigh, because her apartment building had no buzzer – her many friends had to call up to her and she usually just went down to meet them. She could only assume the tenants downstairs had propped the main door open again. Without fully knowing why, Leigh ran a few fingers through her lovely waves, to give them some semblance of style.

“Who is it?” she asked, her voice, like her laughter, bright. She grabbed a tattered hoodie from the pile on her couch, and threw it casually over her arm. She already was crossing the apartment to the door when the muffled reply came “It’s Jaime”, which Leigh already knew. She opened the door.

Jaime stood there, elegant and regal. She was wearing a dress that was shimmering green. It came down to just below her knees, showing off strong, sensuous calves that were capped by stunning stiletto heels. Her dress came down in other ways as well; Jaime’s breasts were like two well-to-do business women - strong and focused, with a forbidden sensuality in the way they meant business. Jaime’s hair was pulled up in an elaborate design that framed her fresh, delicate face. And in her face, her eyes twinkled with that silent magic.

Oh shit, Leigh thought to herself, when she could form words again.

* * *

Oh shit, Jaime thought to herself when Leigh opened the door, and not because Leigh was dressed down. It was because Leigh was Leigh - she looked beautiful in even the sweatiest of pants. It was also because Leigh clearly had a different idea of what she had meant by “take you to dinner.” Amidst the fluttering of her heart, Jaime felt her face begin to flush. “I… I… I…” she started, and did not know where to go from there.

“Um, I thought we were going someplace like McSpoony’s,” Leigh said apologetically, indicating her ragged clothing choices.

“And I meant take you out like in something along the lines of La Cuillère,” Jaime said. Their eyes met, and the two girls laughed, both bright and full of life. The moment of awkwardness had passed, and they were once again two friends in the hallway of an apartment building.

“Get in here,” Leigh said jovially, tugging at Jaime’s exposed right arm. Jaime let herself be pulled into Leigh’s apartment. “I suppose I should have asked if I need to do my hair,” she said with a smile in her eyes.

“Your hair always looks fine, Leigh,” Jaime replied, for it was true. “We can hit McSpoony’s if you want. I’m a little overdressed, but I can always throw on one of your hoodies. I’m pretty sure you have one to spare.” That was also true - the pile of hoodies on Leigh’s couch was overwhelming.

“No, no, no, I can change,” Leigh insisted. “Easier for me to dress up since you’re already looking so swank. Just go have a seat on the couch. I’ve got Whore Bus on.”

“I love me some Whore Bus!” Jaime laughed.

“I know you do,” Leigh said with the faintest hint of a wink. With that, she turned in to her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

But not all the way.

While she knew she should go to the couch and revel in the tales of Bret Michaels and his ladies, something kept Jaime in that hallway, staring at the sliver of Leigh’s room that she could see through the crack. She softly stepped up to that crack, and peered instead, telling herself that she was just moving to close it for Leigh’s privacy.

The room was dark - night had slowly fallen, and no lights had been turned on. The windows were open, and Jaime could faintly see by the light of the moon. She heard Leigh moving about. Then Leigh’s figure moved into her line of sight. Just her back, open and naked, turned silver in the light of the moon. Jaime could see the delicate curve of her spine, reaching down until it ran alongside the tattoo. A black rose kissed the lower right side of Leigh’s back, inviting touch - her fingers could sense the porcelain smoothness of Leigh’s skin. A beautiful spill of black and red curls trickled down Leigh’s back. Jaime’s breath was gone. She reminded herself to breathe, inhaling deeply the scent of the gibbous moon.

As Leigh moved back into the shadows of her room, Jaime quickly pulled herself away from the door. Again she felt flush, but could not admit to herself what had given her such an impulse. As she moved towards the couch, she found her mind fondly recapturing the moment - Leigh’s figure, alight in quicksilver. It reminded her of that time on the Rock Boat, all those months ago… that moment that seemed too surreal to be true, when Leigh had grinned at her impishly, and…

Lost in her reverie, Jaime lost track of time, and it took Leigh clearing her throat to bring her back.

“Are the ladies that interesting tonight?” Leigh asked about the contestants on the show, though such a comment could have been taken in other ways - her breasts also looked stunning. “Well, how do I look? Good enough for La Cuillère?” She did a twirl in her red dress, the length fanning out perfectly before coming to rest, clinging to her curves. Jaime smiled.

“Actually, I think we’re both ready for McSpoony’s now,” Jaime said with her characteristic mischief, standing up from the couch. “Unless you’d mind the staring?”

“I never mind a pair of eyes on me,” Leigh said ambiguously, as she turned off the TV.
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