Post by Griff on May 26, 2013 2:03:34 GMT 10
Title: Worse Things
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 697
Pairing: George/Roger
Round/Fight: 2B
WARNING: Drunken behavior and mentions of tequila
Summary: (Vampire AU pt.5) Rispah comes to find her missing cousin.
-
“If you don’t open the door, I’m calling your mother and I know she’ll make all sort of worried faces if you don’t get your ass out the door, right now, Georgie Pooper!” Rispah hissed at the door, pounding out another round of threatening knocks. “If you got yourself knifed, I am not making excuses. And if you’ve gotten knifed, you’d better have someone watching the girls, because I am not letting my lovelies get smacked around because you got a boo-boo.”
The lock slid out of place and the door opened. “Oh, good. Here I was, worried out of my mind that you were dead in a ditch or something, but you’re just drunk. Great. Perfect.” George just swayed in the doorway, blinking incomprehensibly. Rispah rolled her eyes and gave him a shove. “Oh, whatever. Move. Inside, chop chop.”
He stumbled back and started opening his mouth in the drunken fish flap he was known to do, but she grabbed him and shoved him on the saggy side of the sofa nearest the kitchen. She knew he hated that spot, but she wasn’t feeling particularly delicate about his sensitive person just now.
She rummaged through the sink, finding a glass close enough to clean he couldn’t make any comments about it, drunk as he was, and filled it with water. Trying to get him to take it was a challenge all it’s own, but when she finally gave up hoping he’d reach for it on his own, she picked up his right hand and wrapped it tightly around the cup. He still didn’t drink it, but for now, it was close enough.
“What’s wrong, then?” She sat next to him and gave him a poke. “I haven’t seen you this trashed in years.”
George mumbled something, pictures and visits, but she couldn’t understand more than that.
“Come on,” Rispah sighed, shoving her hair behind her ear while she guided the glass to his lips. “Take a good swallow and try again.”
He sipped wetly, dribbling half the glass down his front, but at least she managed to get something in his stomach other than - she took a sniff - tequila. Oh, lordy. George was a living epitome of ‘Tequila makes her clothes fall off’. The fact he was more or less still dressed didn’t make her feel better.
“Wanna try again?” She tried, but that ended with her tough baby cousin bursting spectacularly into tears, grabbing a photo of a handsome dark haired man and his little boy in a 3x5 photograph that looked to be about 20 years old.
George stared and waved it about with tearful noises, before suddenly freezing with a series of surprisingly coherent curses, running to the fridge, and shoving the photo inside.
“He can hear!” George insisted in a whisper about the same volume as a fog horn. “He’ll know!”
“Right,” Rispah nodded. “It’s bed time.”
“Don’t put it in my bedroom.” George grabbed her, “Don’t, not, nope, can’t watch me, not sleepin’.”
“Of course not,” she nodded again, guiding him down the hall. “I wouldn’t let him do that. That would be creepy.”
“YES!” he yelled. “Creepy and pretty and mean and scary and super smart and f*** Jon.”
Well. That was all surprisingly articulate. “f*** Jon,” she agreed. “Isn’t that Alanna’s boyfriend?”
“He bit me,” George said mournfully, caught in his doorway.
“Wait,” Rispah stared, “Jon bit you?”
“Nonononononononononono,” George shook his head so hard he fell over. He spoke again in that ridiculous whisper, “Roger.”
“Roger.” She said. He nodded. “Sweetie, I don’t have any idea who that is.”
“He. Bit. Me.” George repeated slowly with drunken gravitas and Rispah shook her head.
“Bed, babe. Explain in the morning.”
As she tucked him into bed, he mumbled fearfully, “He bit me. He likes me. I don’t want him to. Rispah,” He looked at her with his bright hazel eyes, tears gathered at the corners, “He likes me. He won’t go away. What do I do if I like him, too?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” She sighed, brushing his hair back from his eyes. “There are worse things than liking people.”
“Not him,” he mumbled, drifting off. “Not him.”
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 697
Pairing: George/Roger
Round/Fight: 2B
WARNING: Drunken behavior and mentions of tequila
Summary: (Vampire AU pt.5) Rispah comes to find her missing cousin.
-
“If you don’t open the door, I’m calling your mother and I know she’ll make all sort of worried faces if you don’t get your ass out the door, right now, Georgie Pooper!” Rispah hissed at the door, pounding out another round of threatening knocks. “If you got yourself knifed, I am not making excuses. And if you’ve gotten knifed, you’d better have someone watching the girls, because I am not letting my lovelies get smacked around because you got a boo-boo.”
The lock slid out of place and the door opened. “Oh, good. Here I was, worried out of my mind that you were dead in a ditch or something, but you’re just drunk. Great. Perfect.” George just swayed in the doorway, blinking incomprehensibly. Rispah rolled her eyes and gave him a shove. “Oh, whatever. Move. Inside, chop chop.”
He stumbled back and started opening his mouth in the drunken fish flap he was known to do, but she grabbed him and shoved him on the saggy side of the sofa nearest the kitchen. She knew he hated that spot, but she wasn’t feeling particularly delicate about his sensitive person just now.
She rummaged through the sink, finding a glass close enough to clean he couldn’t make any comments about it, drunk as he was, and filled it with water. Trying to get him to take it was a challenge all it’s own, but when she finally gave up hoping he’d reach for it on his own, she picked up his right hand and wrapped it tightly around the cup. He still didn’t drink it, but for now, it was close enough.
“What’s wrong, then?” She sat next to him and gave him a poke. “I haven’t seen you this trashed in years.”
George mumbled something, pictures and visits, but she couldn’t understand more than that.
“Come on,” Rispah sighed, shoving her hair behind her ear while she guided the glass to his lips. “Take a good swallow and try again.”
He sipped wetly, dribbling half the glass down his front, but at least she managed to get something in his stomach other than - she took a sniff - tequila. Oh, lordy. George was a living epitome of ‘Tequila makes her clothes fall off’. The fact he was more or less still dressed didn’t make her feel better.
“Wanna try again?” She tried, but that ended with her tough baby cousin bursting spectacularly into tears, grabbing a photo of a handsome dark haired man and his little boy in a 3x5 photograph that looked to be about 20 years old.
George stared and waved it about with tearful noises, before suddenly freezing with a series of surprisingly coherent curses, running to the fridge, and shoving the photo inside.
“He can hear!” George insisted in a whisper about the same volume as a fog horn. “He’ll know!”
“Right,” Rispah nodded. “It’s bed time.”
“Don’t put it in my bedroom.” George grabbed her, “Don’t, not, nope, can’t watch me, not sleepin’.”
“Of course not,” she nodded again, guiding him down the hall. “I wouldn’t let him do that. That would be creepy.”
“YES!” he yelled. “Creepy and pretty and mean and scary and super smart and f*** Jon.”
Well. That was all surprisingly articulate. “f*** Jon,” she agreed. “Isn’t that Alanna’s boyfriend?”
“He bit me,” George said mournfully, caught in his doorway.
“Wait,” Rispah stared, “Jon bit you?”
“Nonononononononononono,” George shook his head so hard he fell over. He spoke again in that ridiculous whisper, “Roger.”
“Roger.” She said. He nodded. “Sweetie, I don’t have any idea who that is.”
“He. Bit. Me.” George repeated slowly with drunken gravitas and Rispah shook her head.
“Bed, babe. Explain in the morning.”
As she tucked him into bed, he mumbled fearfully, “He bit me. He likes me. I don’t want him to. Rispah,” He looked at her with his bright hazel eyes, tears gathered at the corners, “He likes me. He won’t go away. What do I do if I like him, too?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” She sighed, brushing his hair back from his eyes. “There are worse things than liking people.”
“Not him,” he mumbled, drifting off. “Not him.”
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!