Spanish Fly
By Ann V.
Disclaimer: Same-old-same-old. Jeez, it’s depressing knowing that I can’t come up with something original and I have to steal Nightow-sama’s characters and do horrible (read: pornographic) things to them.
Warnings: The Fly, Midvalley, internet porn, unrequited, plotting, interspecies lovin’, cussing … lots of cussing.
Part 7: While We Weren’t Looking…
It just so happened that in a little bar called the Yellow Rose (even though no one had a clue what a rose looked like, so it probably was better off being called the Yellow Flower-like thingie) there were residing three familiar faces. The Whore, the Maiden, and the Bitch. You know… Midvalley, Dominique, and Meryl. They were two-thirds drowning out sorrows, and one-third assisting in making sorrows to drown out. On one side was one overly happy Midvalley who had just drugged seven chicks, and one very femme guy’s, drinks. This is a sample of the “conversation”.
M: Hey, ladies…
Ladies and one pretty boy: ::horny pounce::
M: w00t!!!
The rest is bar sex until the bar tender threw them all out. Whereas the half on which people actually come to drink, look really bad, and can’t remember their own names is where Domi and Meryl sat. For a plot device, of which there are many, they just happened to be sitting next to one another. The not-quite-inebriated Dominique was sobbing onto the bar and the very-inebriated Meryl tried to console her.
“Ish okay. Wa’sh ‘rong?” said the very-inebriated Meryl.
“Everything. You can’t possibly understand. It’s just horrible. First I manage to seduce him. Then he’s all mad at me and uses me to seduce someone else. Not just anyone else but this scary guy who’s our boss. And the scary guy doesn’t even love him. I love him doesn’t he understand that. Doesn’t he want to be appreciated?!” Dominique ranted at Meryl and most of the bar.
“I dunno. I kinda know how you’sh feel. There’sh this really hot guy and I like’sh him but he’sh all distant and weird’sh.” Meryl got all drunken and teary-eyed. Dominique handed her a tissue from the box she was monopolizing.
“Hey Meryl, what if I told you there was something you could use to get your guy… Vash, right? It’d be perfect.” Dominique was already searching through her purse while Meryl figured out what she was saying.
“Oh My God! That would be so cool!” She screamed very girlishly.
“Here, uh, you might want to use only half the bottle just because... uh, well, just because.” Dominique tried to find a tactful way to explain exactly what the adverse effects of an overdose on a superspecies were. It was kind of hard to sum up that second-hand experience. Dominique had barely discovered the insidious little vial then Meryl grabbed it and dashed off in a looney-tunes-esque cloud of dust.
“You’re welcome.” Dominique said staring after the swinging bar doors. She
sighed and leaned her elbows on the bar. The squelching sounds of the other
side’s activities were just wafting in and she sighed disgustedly at it.
“Well I did my good deed for the day.” She said before any sadness could leak into her final act of desperation.
“You certainly did. I say you should be commended.” A voice behind her
said. She perked up at said mysterious voice.
…And this is where I leave you to where Vash and Wolfwood are staying up late and messing around on the Satellite (it’s like the Internet but cooler and more likely to be slow because of psychotic blondes with keen attachments. Ahem.)
“Dude… I’m bored.” Ye ole blonde gunman whined.
“Why be bored? We have no girls and an open connection to free porn.”
“Really!!!”
“Yeah, stupid. Whoa…” Nick suddenly sounded as if most of his blood had run zero degrees Celsius. “Whoa is not good. Whoa. This is not the ‘I didn’t know girls could bend like that’ whoa. This is the ‘Jesus Christ on a bicycle, I’ll never get that picture of Marilyn Manson’s cock out of my head’ kinda whoa.” Vash’s head lifted from the ground where it was in begging/whiny mode. He heard the slow-coming click of a file closing.
“In fact, I think I’d have rather have the mental image of Marilyn Manson’s cock.” Wolfwood said giving Vash a classic wide-eyed look of terror.
“You don’t mean that. What could be so evil?” Vash said peering at the now-clear terminal. Wolfwood clicked and the previous screen popped back up. Wolfwood was smart enough not to look again.
“JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH!” The scream rattled through the hotel.
Then Wolfwood clicked the screen gone once more and the completely traumatized Vash once again gained back his sanity and his voice.
“Well it’s always something I suspected but not anything I ever… EVER…
needed to know.” He said rubbing his eyes.
“Personally, I’d be disturbed if it was my brother.” Wolfwood said shaking
his head.
“Well, come on it’s not like you never considered something like that. I mean… Legato? Really, was there any doubt? And he’s always been a little… off.” Vash said, making an attempt at being rational.
“You’ve got a point; they’ve always been like that. And Legato is really
attractive in that scary, scary kind of way.” Wolfwood said, trying to justify it.
“Hey, if it wasn’t for the personality thing I’d probably be willing to do him.” Vash said before the actually meaning of those words and their sheer impossibility of them caught up with him. But it was late at night; that wasn’t going to happen for at least ten minutes.
“I bet he’d have a really nice rack if he was a chick.”
“Yeah he’s just so… emasculated.” There was a long, long, long, painfully long uncomfortable silence.
“Hey, does it have an audio stream?” Vash said, peering at the computer.
“Yeah… but it’s fifty bucks.” Wolfwood shrugged.
“Dang, who would pay fifty bucks to watch my brother and his thing fuck?”
Somewhere else…
“Holy fuck!”
“What? What!?”
“Jude, you’ll never believe what I found for only fifty bucks.”
“Heh… really? It’s not, like, secretly some ugly fat guy dancing naked?”
“No, it’s the real thing.”
Another girl walks in.
“Does it involve pole dancing or bondage?”
“Not this time Meghan. Sorry.”
“Eh, I’ll live.”
Coming soon: Oh, the prequel to Lemony goodness. Or, “Oh Good God Not HET!”