|BETWEEN SIBLINGS -- RATED R
||[Nov. 26th, 2005|11:05 pm]
|||||Andrew Lloyd Webber's "Sunset Boulevard"||]|
TITLE: Between Siblings
CHARACTERS: Shannon, Boone
WORD COUNT: 650
WARNINGS/NOTES: Strong language, sexual themes. Some fun Shannon/Boone squabbling in the airport before they get on the plane.
"God, Shannon! Will you just stop it?"
"What's your problem?" she asked. He was beginning to get on her nerves, and she had half a mind to just haul off and kick him in the balls and walk away, leaving him to his own devices and freeing herself of his influence forever. And if it weren't for the fact that he was her only hope for getting back to the States, she'd have done it, too. Stepbrother or not--and in spite of his being the most attentive sex partner she'd ever known--he was going to have to shut up real soon, or else.
"My problem," he was saying, "is you. You've flirted with every fucking guy in the airport. I'm ashamed to be seen with you sometimes."
"Whatever," she said. "Like it's a treat walking around with the only supposedly straight male wedding coordinator in the greater L.A. area."
He sighed and glared at her. "I think my performance last night more than adequately proved my sexual prowess."
She sighed right back. She so did not want to get into this in the middle of the airport. But he had fired the first shot, and if there was one thing that she did well, it was fighting back. "The only thing you proved last night was that you've learned how to use that little thing of yours. Just because you know how to fuck doesn't mean you're not a fa--"
"You're such a fucking brat," he shot back. "You would think that someone who didn't have two nickels to rub together would be grateful to the person who was paying to fly her back home."
They had been keeping up a fairly brisk pace, but now she realized that he had stopped. She turned back, walked up to him, and spoke, quietly enough so that only he could hear her, and in the super-sweet tone she used when she was being particularly vicious.
"And you would think that someone who had just screamed his sister's name repeatedly from beneath the sheets in a motel room in Sydney would be grateful to the person who was agreeing to keep that little fact a secret from his mother."
"Step," he replied, trying to sound cool and unfazed, even though she could tell that she had struck a nerve. "Stepsister."
She leaned forward and let her lips gently touch his. She allowed him just enough time to melt into the kiss, waited until she could feel his tongue beginning to pry her lips open, before she pulled away. "Do you really think she'll understand if you put it that way?" she whispered.
He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. "You...are such...a fucking...cocktease," he muttered.
"I have no problem with what I am," she replied, her voice still low, but no longer sweet. "Or with what I've had to do to survive since you and your fucking bitch of a mother hung me out to dry. So don't blame me for being fine with my flaws just because you can't accept your own." With that, she grabbed her luggage from him and began to march toward baggage claim.
When she was about ten yards away, she turned back and smiled at him. He was still standing there, watching her. "Oh, Boone," she called out, loudly but in the sweetest voice she could muster. "I'd cool down a little bit if I were you. That's one hell of an erection you have there."
Every face in the airport seemed to turn toward him, and he knew that his face had to be redder than a boiled lobster. He glared at her in a helpless rage, but she just shrugged, gave him her brightest, most innocent smile, then turned away again, disappearing into a sea of chuckles and amused faces.
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