SUMMARY: two "friends" talk.
WARNING: again, not really. see the level of perspiration?
NOTES: this is really getting out of hand. but, anyway, thank you to 'rith and Tangerine and S and Kaylee and, of course, to Poi, who are all to blame. not me.
DATE: December, 1999.
Crush III:
Warren's Question
"Sigh."
"Sigh."
"Pant."
"Phew."
"Yeah."
"Oui."
"Phew."
"Pant."
" . . . "
" . . . "
"Remy . . ?"
"Oui?"
"That was . . "
"Oui."
"What was . . I mean . . where did that come from?"
"Don' know, Warren. De kitchen?"
"Yeah. The kitchen."
"And de stairwell."
"Heh. And the floor ten feet from your bed."
"And de floor five feet from de bed."
"And the foot of the bed."
"And de den de rest of de bed."
"Yeah."
"Oui."
"Pant."
"Phew."
" . . . "
" . . . "
"Warren?"
"Yes?"
"Question."
"Yes?"
"Don' you, like, hate me?"
"Oh. Well, yeah. But, see, not in the way everyone thought I hated you."
"Non?"
"Non. Everyone thought, you know, you did that whole thing with the Marauders where you made a deal with Sinister for some mysterious vial and then--"
"Yeah, Warren, I remember, t'anks."
"Oh, yeah, I guess so. Okay. Um. So, you did that, and I ended up losing my wings . . and that's why I hated you. At least, that's what everyone thought."
"But it ain' true?"
"No. See, all that time . . it was actually repressed sexual frustration that made me aggressive toward you."
"And is dat also why y'left me in Antartica?"
"Um, no . . I was drunk, then."
"Drunk?"
"Yes. That's what Jean said."
"Jean? Y'talked to her 'bout me?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Well, I was drunk, then, too."
"Sounds like y'spend alotta time dat way."
"Only when it comes to you, babe."
"Ain' dat romantic."
"I think so. I mentioned you to Jean Thursday night when some of us went to Harry's . . and then today she cornered me and made me tell her everything."
"And what did she say?"
"She said I should go for it."
"'Go f'r it?'"
"Yes. You know. Talk to you about it. Wrestle you to the ground."
"Heh."
"And then she wrangled you in for the kill."
"De Lord loves a workin' woman."
"I can't help but feel like we owe her something. You know, for . . organizing everything. We would never have admitted any of this if it hadn't been for her."
"I'm sure de fact dat y'here right now is good enough f'her."
"Yes, I know, but . . something more."
"Uh huh. Well, how 'bout de polaroids?"
"The polaroids? Perfect!"
"Where are dey?"
"Over there, on the sidetable, next to the camera . . Here, let me, I'll . . "
"Ehey, watch it, flyboy . . "
*giggle*
"Dere, hand me dat one. No, de one of us in . . where? Where is dat?"
"It's hard to tell. Weird angle. Is that your knee or mine?"
"Yours. Dis must be de stairwell. Oh, yeah. See de level of perspiration? Definitely de stairwell."
"Phew."
"Pant."
" . . . "
" . . . "
"Remy . . where, um . . where do we go from here?"
"From here? Well, dere's still de bat'room and de rec room and--"
"No, I meant-- well, I meant that, too-- but I was talking about, you know, you and I. Together. Where do *we* go?"
"Ah. Well. . . Le's just say de bat'room and de rec room and your room, and leave it at dat for now, a'ight?"
"Sounds good."
"Dudn' it?"
" . . . "
" . . . "
"Um, Remy?"
"Oui?"
"Is that . . a mirror, on the ceiling?"
"Oui."
"Oh, Remy . . "
"Oui . . "
"Sigh."
"Sigh. "
" . . . "
"Warren, lemme ask ya, when y'talked to Jean . . she didn' happen to mention anythin' about Samson, did she? Or Sedona? Because when I talked t'her, she . . Warren? Are you listenin' to me?"
" . . . "
"Warren??"
"Oh, sorry, Remy. Zoned out. The mirror . . "
"Y'too good t'be true, flyboy. C'mere."
"What were you saying aboummmMMmmm . . . "
"Mmmm."
a workin' woman