cozzybob (cozzybob) wrote in cozzybabbles, @ 2008-02-26 00:17:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | 5xd, 6xd, dorothy, wufei, zechs |
[GW] She got a mortgage on my body
She got a mortgage on my body
by cozzybob
Rated: PG-13?
Pair: Dx5, Sx5, some D+6.
Warning: rampant het, swearing, cheating, drunkenness, angst, references to BDSM lifestyle and unplanned pregnancies. Prequel to Squeeze My Lemon
Note: Prequel to Squeeze My Lemon. Both titles are taken from the song Traveling Riverside Blues by Robert Johnson, and THIS was written specifically for the_dw, who is such a sweetie pie and likes my het! *squees hysterically* I also wanna nudge woodlandelf again, simply because she still needs more love, and I love her so, yes I do.
Summary: Describing the relationship between Dorothy and Wufei prior to Zechs' arrival in Squeeze My Lemon.
The first month, he told her go to hell.
The second, she sent him there.
By the third, they'd gone there together, and it took them nearly nine months to find their back again.
It was a slow build-up as some of those things are, kind of like silt at the bottom of some major river that stands perfectly well-loved until a hurricane comes raging in from the gulf and blows it all to pieces again. Together, the two of them had produced some of the most beautiful acts the Cellar had ever seen--it was through Wufei that Dorothy gained her title as Elphaba, and through Dorothy that Wufei became known as the Dragon. But as well-respected their reputations might have become, it was their final separation that no one would forget. Most especially those who knew the both of them.
Dorothy's father used to say that opinions are like assholes, and it was the general opinion of the world that she was as loose as they came, and had no mortality to be fit in her entire body. They said that you couldn't trust yourself in a serious relationship with Elphaba because there was no telling whose bed she'd wake up in. The way some spoke of her, it was like she didn't know how to walk without getting a little bow-legged.
And yet, ironically, it was Wufei who cheated on her. Wufei, the very personification of honor, doing something so... indescribably base, and entirely against his character. The idea of Wufei cheating for another woman was in the same category as Duo lying--it just didn't happen. But that's where most had it wrong, because it wasn't that he couldn't do it, it was that he chose not to. And if that choice were taken away...
Sometimes, there was very little that separated one man from another. Wufei had loved Dorothy for a year and three months, and it took one drunken night with Sally Po to change his mind. Truthfully, she wasn't even mad at him. Well. Perhaps just slightly.
No, she was really pissed at Sally.
"Dorothy. She was drunk too." Wufei was sitting on their bed with his arms crossed, that glare up the wattage of about two million candle power. Still, even his dragon breath had nothing on a pissed off Catalonia who was just two seconds from drilling a knife into his good-for-nothing heart.
That bitch. That bastard. That... that whore.
"Did you hear me? I said, she was drunk--"
"Fuck off, Chang."
"Dorothy--"
"No!"
Now Wufei was a little hurt, and understandably. In his twisted version of reality, their relationship should have been strong enough to overcome this. But Dorothy knew it couldn't be all that strong to begin with if Wufei was going to go fucking other women at the slightest little buzz of some goddamned tequila, and without her permission, no less! What the hell good was a dom/sub relationship if they couldn't trust each other? She would move the whole world for him if you gave her a firm enough place to stand, and he goes and rips it all right from under her feet.
Fairness had no degree in this. Fair would have been that he'd never cheated at all, fair would have been that Wufei really didn't have any feelings for Sally--'Sally, who?' he's supposed to say, and she goes, 'Oh, you know, that Doctor Whore Lady.' Sally Po, yes, Dorothy had respect for her before all this happened, but now? Now there was nothing. Sally was dirt, and Dorothy was the worm; gonna eat that bitch, shit her right back out again. Make compost out of her.
"It was an accident," he said, very quietly. In that submissive voice he only ever used for her, and maybe someone long dead. Had he used it on Sally? Had Sally taken top, slapped him hard, and made him beg like a true mistress would?
No. You don't get second chances with Dorothy, no one takes her men and gets away with it. No one.
"I'm sorry."
"I bet you are," so heated, so resentful.
Wufei looked down at the floor. He was a kicked puppy, a goddamned baby without candy. A man without his woman.
"Wufei."
He didn't move.
"Get out."
That got his attention. His head snapped upward, eyes wide with terror. She'd discovered a long time ago that his greatest fear was abandonment. She knew why, and she knew that doing this would hurt him deeper than any knife could deliver, but she wanted him to hurt. She wanted him to feel the cut he had dealt her.
Her vision was blurry. Maybe just as blurry as his.
"Doro?" Choked, cut-off, terrified.
Hurt. "Go." She blinked, and the tears burst, rolling down her face. She furiously wiped them away, pointing to the door.
He stood up, and he stared at her.
She snapped her fingers, and pointed.
He left without another word.
**
"I don't think he meant it, Dorothy."
How ironic was it that she would find herself almost-but-not-quite drunk with another man only hours after sending Wufei off for doing the same exact thing?
But, well, whatever. This was Zechs. She didn't screw Zechs, now did she?
She glared bitterly at her margarita even though it was far from bitter, and really quite good. The fruity war of sweet and salt danced on her tongue, and she used it to focus to keep from decomposing into a pile of tears again.
Zechs was drinking water. He knew that he would be driving her home, hadn't even asked. Hell, he hadn't even driven with her here. They'd just met in the bar, the same bar they all went to, the one attached the Cellar and just two blocks from either of their apartments. The bartender knew their names, and didn't even care. Most of the others were too drunk to remember the significance short of Mistress and Master and Bee Dee Es Em Stuff.
Maybe it was ironic that Dorothy and Zechs both lived in the same building, on the same floor. Zechs was right across the hall. Hell, the two of them almost lived in each other's apartments, because Dorothy knew exactly what was in Zechs' fridge as much as he knew that Dorothy couldn't cook anything passed factory-grade TV dinners, and he usually made her meal at night simply because he knew that Treize would hate to think of his favorite cousin living off whatever soup of chemicals currently found in her Lean Cuisines and Banquets.
Once she got drunk enough to get over Wufei for about thirty seconds, he would drive her home, make her eat something, and put her to bed. She'd wake up the next morning, and wouldn't even give it a second thought.
Yeah. She glanced over at Zechs, and up and down his form. She didn't really want him. He was like a brother. Another cousin. A... something else.
She fought against the blush rising on her face, and sank back into her margarita. Ah, the joys of a good bartender. Beautiful.
"Dorothy." His glare was a private one, annoyed if only because he hated not to be acknowledged. Zechs always needed a little bit of attention, even if he never admitted it. That hair, for one thing. And Libra? That was another.
His eyes were more of a scowl that said, Are you even listening to me?
"Yeah." She shooed him away, he and his hair, his Libra, his scowling, his cooking, his godcicle of a body. "Whatever."
"Dorothy--"
"Whatever, Zechs. I'm trying to be drunk for a reason."
"You'll need something stronger than that, then." Point being, she really only wanted advice, and she still had to be coherent enough to follow it. And he knew that.
"It was a mistake," he said.
Hence, the advising.
"Bullshit."
"Dorothy--"
She spun on him, fist pumping angrily in the air. "She fucked my man, Zechs! S'utter fucking bullshit!"
His brow firmed, his lips taking on that slight frown. His thick, calloused fingers gripped around the water, as if to shield the impulse to grab a gun and start shooting sense into her. "It was a mistake. Don't turn it into regret."
Hm. Wise words, those.
"What the hell would you know?"
That's when he got the look like Wufei had done. Not quite submissive. Not yet. But hurt. He glared at his glass to hide it, left hand fisting into his pocket, jingling keys. He didn't need to say anything; she knew perfectly well.
"Sorry," she said.
He stood up gracefully, shook his head, brushing it away. He tried to pretend the moment meant nothing, but anyone who knew him beyond two names would know what the line between his brow, the perfection of his posture, the open hand drifting down to his side, and even the glistening in his eyes all added up to. A regret. One of several.
**
Several days later, Sally sat down next to her at the bar.
"I'm pregnant," she said.
"Wonderful," was Dorothy's only response, and it was frozen.
"It's Wufei's."
Dorothy twitched.
"I'm sorry," Sally said.
"Me too."
"There's no excuse."
And Dorothy's reaction was slow, thoughts moving through the sludge of regrets and mistakes and Zechs' continued self-torment. Did she want to turn into him? Did she want to hate herself, and her actions, and her face, and her mistakes, and his name over and over, every day, for the rest of her life?
Did she want that?
"No."
"Obviously, the baby was unplanned, but..."
Dorothy glanced at her. Sally was white, shaken, nervous. She had a nail between her teeth, and she was staring at the scratches on the black bar top. Someone wrote, 'Dragon breath.'
Wufei?
Wufei wouldn't do that sort of thing.
It looked like Sally's writing...
"...but he agreed. To take care of it. I'm going to have it, I mean. We both are."
"Good for you." Warmer. Maybe.
"Dorothy--"
"Sally. Don't."
"I-I'm sorry. I really am."
"Of course you are."
Sally got up. Dorothy didn't even look at her.
"For what it's worth... he really does... I mean..."
When Sally broke off, Dorothy finally lifted her eyes from her whiskey and saw the frustrated tears in her eyes. Sally was another mistress in the Cellar, and the two of them had been trading secrets and acts for years now. Not men, never men, but friendships. Always friendships.
Dorothy--Elphaba--didn't have enough friends.
She reached out gingerly and put her hand on Sally's shoulder. She squeezed. She looked into her eyes and tried to smile, and it came out wobbly. She tried to be happy for them. She tried.
"I know," Dorothy said.
Sally breathed something that could have been a sigh of relief, if only the tension wasn't still there.
And they hugged. Tightly.
Over her shoulder, Dorothy spotted Wufei watching from the corner, and she sighed the same sigh that Sally had made. Wufei winced and stared at the floor. But behind him, another table down, was Zechs, and he was smiling. He nodded, and she found herself an exit in order to forget.
When she left Sally and Wufei to their own devices, Zechs drove her home. They had a long lunch. Zechs tried to teach her how to make pasta, and she taught him the wonders of coupons, and large, deep-dish, stuffed-crust, multi-topped Chanello's Pizza.
--Fini