|
War of the Roses -- Part 5: Say it with Flowers yeah. part five. i should probably be studying, but fuck that! "Hey Stef," Brian exclaimed excitedly, "I just wrote a song, wanna come over and hear it?" "Err, sure Brian, give me a few minutes and I'll be right over." "Kay!!" Brian hung up and went back to his guitar. He had finally gotten around to buying new cases for his babies -- and a lock for their closet. It was sort of like shutting the gate after the cows leave, but come on, who can trust /Steve/? He was still plucking away absently when Stef let himself in. "Hey, I'm here," he announced. "Hi Stef!" squealed Brian, running over to give him a hug. "I got something for you," Stef started, holding up the bag he carried in one hand. "Oooooh!" Brian grabbed the bag and started rummaging through it. He came up with a tube of lube and grinned. "Oh Stef, how did you know I was almost out? How thoughtful!" "That's for me, you little twit," Stef grinned, swiping it from Brian. He pulled something out of the bag and tossed it to Brian. "/This/ is for you." "Uhh... diapers?" Stef laughed at the look on Brian's face. "I told you I would. But Steve wants his sheets back. Its been a week now, he's getting really pissed. He's complaining that he has zero chance of getting laid with such girly sheets." Brian laughed at the mental image that conjured, but then calmed down suddenly, realising he probably should give them back... *** The doorbell rang. Several times. Steve, grumbling, got up to find out just who was so desperate to see him. He opened the door to find... nothing. Except for a box, which was underneath a large floral arrangement bearing a card proclaiming "I'M SORRY!!" in Brian's best handwriting. Steve slammed the door shut and ducked, immediately expecting the worst.... nothing happened. He opened the door a crack and cautiously peered out. It /looked/ safe... He stepped towards the bundle. It didnt look or sound like it contained any incendiary devices, swarms of killer bees or banana cream pies spring-loaded and ready to hit him in the face. He wished he had police sniffer dogs, or a tricorder, or SOMETHING to reassure him that it was safe to touch Brian's offering. He eventually mustered enough courage to snatch up the box and basket and bring them into his flat. He dropped them on the counter and picked up the card, opening it to read: "Dearest Steve, Here's your sheets and shit. I'm surprised there weren't more stains. You can keep the pink ones, just because I care. This card, box and basket will self-destruct in....Just kidding! I wish I could see your face right now! All my love, Brian." Prev Home |