| Twiggy/ Scorpia/ Brittany/ Bladderwrack |
[Jun. 28th, 2006|12:41 pm] |
The things I do in the name of kicks and giggles... O.o
Warning: it's got innuendo and sexy wetness (not in THAT way!).
Love in a Response Room by Twiggy
A/N: no, we don’t have a beanbag, or an “ebon rug”. They just sounded cool at the time, okay? This is my story, I can write what I like!! If you dont like it dont read it!!! M33niez!!!
~
Agent Twiggy Papaya lay lightly upon a crimson beanbag, fair hair trailing ‘cross the floor, one hand gently brushing the ebon rug as she sighed deeply, eyes half-closed beneath their luxurious lashes. The harsh lights of the Response Room glared down at her, just as her father had so many times – the shouts, the fists – so that her skin was at once burnt and frozen by the exposed depths of the tumult of her soul.
She roused her gentle head from its blood-red rest as the entryway was cleared by the single, prison-like door swinging forth to admit a tall, handsome youth with hair cerise and undulating, and skin tanned golden by his many deeds. This was Agent Scorpia Lotus, and Twiggy felt a sensuous fluttering within her breast, for here was the man for whom she had longed since first setting eyes upon his wondrous form.
Seemingly cruelly oblivious to her feminine desires, Scorpia simply slammed the door shut with one movement of his muscular arm, and came to rest beside his friend – the friend who, thought Twiggy in despair, would evermore remain just a friend; the woman who was his partner merely in job description.
Scorpia spoke then, his voice rich and deep, stirring a passion deep in her loins. “I dropped Brit off at the Bladderwrack’s office. Want a coffee or something?”
“What Department d’you reckon she’ll get?” Twiggy pressed him huskily, her words to him only arousing the barely-suppressed longing within her.
“I’m hoping for here, t’be honest,” Scorpia shrugged his manly shoulders, eyes smouldering as he gazed deeply into Twiggy’s azure orbs. “It’ll take off some of the workload, y’know?”
“Yeah,” Twiggy sighed deeply, bosom heaving with grief. O cruel fate! Her love planned to replace her with this raven-haired temptress, this dark and exotic witch. Barely had they saved her from her torment in a Lord of the Rings work of bad fan fiction than the pair had been holding hands, staring into each other’s eyes in that way Twiggy had thought was reserved only for her.
Even now, her false angel was turning towards her, words spilling from his peach-perfect lips. “You know, it’d be weird, having a third person. There’s only ever been two Agents in this Response Room, long’s I can remember.”
“OH, TAKE ME NOW, YOU MAGNIFICENT MAN!” Twiggy cried, and jumped him. A look of slight surprise crossed his handsome features, but he accepted her into his embrace and –
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!
The two Agents, now totally caught up in the slash, reacted with various degrees of woe. “Alas, for the siren-call of the computer attempts to wrench us from our love!” wept Twiggy daintily, the angst and anguish of many years spilling from her almond-shaped eyes in a ballet of shimmering tears.
Scorpia, already clad in only his Y-fronts, grasped her graceful hands in his large, manly ones and pulled her to her feet. “We must find another refuge, a boudoir where we may continue to celebrate our adoration, preferably with ice-cream and vegetables!”
They escaped from the Response Room with only the sacrifice of Twiggy’s blouse, and sped down the corridor as best they could whilst more entangled than a ball of string. They thought they were safe—but so hott were they, and so burning their love, that they set off all the fire-sprinklers in the hallway! Cold water turned to steam as it touched their skin, drenching them in a cloud of rosewater that shone in their hair and glistened on their toned bodies. So it was that they burst passionately through the nearest door, gleaming with sexy wetness, and gasped at the sight before them.
For they had entered – not, as they thought, an empty room – but the Bladderwrack’s office. But that was not what made them gape and blush with a touch of hypocrisy.
The Bladderwrack and Brittany were on the Official’s desk. Whatever he was doing to her, it wasn’t an interview.
He looked up, as best they could tell. What? Who are you?
“We are your Agents,” replied Scorpia with one fine eyebrow raised, still holding his diminutive lover to his well-muscled chest.
Eh. Well, you might as well join us, then.
At this point the scene faded discreetly to black as the author’s brain broke…
~
Oh, blimey... my prom is tonight! O.o It's going to be fantastic!! |
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