storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-01-12 08:34 am
storypaint) wrote2009-01-12 08:34 am
Going Home With Girls (Megara/Jane)
Title: Going Home With Girls
Length: 635 words
Fandom: Tarzan/Hercules: college students AU (Disney Hall)
Pairing/characters: Megara/Jane; past Clayton/Jane
Rating: G
Warnings: implied drunkenness
Prompt/challenge you're answering: no_true_pair: Jane/Megara, intoxication
Excerpt: Jane hated these sort of parties. She didn't understand what her roommate saw in drinking to excess and going home with a boy you wouldn't even greet sober. She hated the braggers, the loud talkers, the know-it-alls. She always ended up in the kitchen by herself, hoping no one would drag her out and force her to dance with someone.
Jane hated these sort of parties. She didn't understand what her roommate saw in drinking to excess and going home with a boy you wouldn't even greet sober. She hated the braggers, the loud talkers, the know-it-alls. She always ended up in the kitchen by herself, hoping no one would drag her out and force her to dance with someone.
"You need to get over him," Ariel had insisted, dragging her out the door, and she knew that she'd never hear the end of it unless she agreed, even though Ariel was wrong. She'd been over Clayton since their first date. Football player or not, it was crass to try to get to second base three hours after meeting someone. One date wasn't a relationship. She should never have agreed to a second, but she felt like she should try dating boys. That was the sort of thing a coed was supposed to do. Supposed to enjoy.
She ran her fingers along the edge of her plastic cup, sullenly, and wondered how long she should stay to be polite. Had she ever distinguished the host from the group of women grinding on their boyfriends in the living room? Hmph. They were all the same, anyway. The blaring music was giving her a headache and Jane thought longingly about her dorm room, a cup of cocoa, a good book.
"You're obviously mistaken me for someone interested in you," a voice drawled nearby, and a girl with long brown hair strode into the kitchen, slamming the door behind her. She sighed, reaching down to rub one foot, both of which were encased in three-inch, golden gladiator heels, the laces snaking up slender calves. Cinnamon thighs were half-hidden underneath a leather miniskirt. Her tank top was filmy and purple, her eyeliner thick.
She was one of those girls, then. Jane tugged at the sleeve of her yellow sweater and prepared to be ignored, or maybe talked at, drunkenly. The brown-haired stranger sighed, sat down at the kitchen table, and began to unlace her shoes. She glanced over in Jane's direction for a moment, unseeing, and then looked again, actually seeming to notice her. She smiled.
"I'm Jane," Jane blurted out. The brunette winked.
"I'm Megara, but my friends all call me Meg. Or they would, if I had any friends," she replied, rescuing her right foot with a grateful sigh, rubbing at her instep.
"Oh," Jane said, looking down into her cup and feeling awkward.
"So who dragged you to this cesspool of humanity?" Megara asked, unfastening her other shoe.
"My roommate," Jane mumbled.
"Hey, at least yours didn't dress you," Megara said, gesturing with the shoe. "No offense or anything, the demure look is cute."
Jane flushed to the roots of her hair and was surprised by her body's reaction. Was she... was she being flirted with?
Furthermore, why didn't she mind?
Well, she had to admit, it was sort of nice to have someone else in the kitchen with her-- someone who seemd to release the futility of all this.
Jane cleared her throat self-consciously and said, "Would you like to grab some coffee?"
Meg's eyes lit up. "Is there an opportunity to find some tennis shoes included with this coffee?"
Jane smiled, setting the half-drank cup back onto the counter without regret.
"I have a pair in my car that I wear running," she replied.
"Perfect," Megara said cheerfully, tossing her shoes up onto the counter next to Jane's drink, and taking her hand, un-self-consciously, as they headed for the door. Meg turned her head to ask a question and bumped noses with Jane. Giggling, she leaned forward and captured Jane's lips for a brief second.
Jane didn't have to be intoxicated to enjoy the heady feeling.
Length: 635 words
Fandom: Tarzan/Hercules: college students AU (Disney Hall)
Pairing/characters: Megara/Jane; past Clayton/Jane
Rating: G
Warnings: implied drunkenness
Prompt/challenge you're answering: no_true_pair: Jane/Megara, intoxication
Excerpt: Jane hated these sort of parties. She didn't understand what her roommate saw in drinking to excess and going home with a boy you wouldn't even greet sober. She hated the braggers, the loud talkers, the know-it-alls. She always ended up in the kitchen by herself, hoping no one would drag her out and force her to dance with someone.
Jane hated these sort of parties. She didn't understand what her roommate saw in drinking to excess and going home with a boy you wouldn't even greet sober. She hated the braggers, the loud talkers, the know-it-alls. She always ended up in the kitchen by herself, hoping no one would drag her out and force her to dance with someone.
"You need to get over him," Ariel had insisted, dragging her out the door, and she knew that she'd never hear the end of it unless she agreed, even though Ariel was wrong. She'd been over Clayton since their first date. Football player or not, it was crass to try to get to second base three hours after meeting someone. One date wasn't a relationship. She should never have agreed to a second, but she felt like she should try dating boys. That was the sort of thing a coed was supposed to do. Supposed to enjoy.
She ran her fingers along the edge of her plastic cup, sullenly, and wondered how long she should stay to be polite. Had she ever distinguished the host from the group of women grinding on their boyfriends in the living room? Hmph. They were all the same, anyway. The blaring music was giving her a headache and Jane thought longingly about her dorm room, a cup of cocoa, a good book.
"You're obviously mistaken me for someone interested in you," a voice drawled nearby, and a girl with long brown hair strode into the kitchen, slamming the door behind her. She sighed, reaching down to rub one foot, both of which were encased in three-inch, golden gladiator heels, the laces snaking up slender calves. Cinnamon thighs were half-hidden underneath a leather miniskirt. Her tank top was filmy and purple, her eyeliner thick.
She was one of those girls, then. Jane tugged at the sleeve of her yellow sweater and prepared to be ignored, or maybe talked at, drunkenly. The brown-haired stranger sighed, sat down at the kitchen table, and began to unlace her shoes. She glanced over in Jane's direction for a moment, unseeing, and then looked again, actually seeming to notice her. She smiled.
"I'm Jane," Jane blurted out. The brunette winked.
"I'm Megara, but my friends all call me Meg. Or they would, if I had any friends," she replied, rescuing her right foot with a grateful sigh, rubbing at her instep.
"Oh," Jane said, looking down into her cup and feeling awkward.
"So who dragged you to this cesspool of humanity?" Megara asked, unfastening her other shoe.
"My roommate," Jane mumbled.
"Hey, at least yours didn't dress you," Megara said, gesturing with the shoe. "No offense or anything, the demure look is cute."
Jane flushed to the roots of her hair and was surprised by her body's reaction. Was she... was she being flirted with?
Furthermore, why didn't she mind?
Well, she had to admit, it was sort of nice to have someone else in the kitchen with her-- someone who seemd to release the futility of all this.
Jane cleared her throat self-consciously and said, "Would you like to grab some coffee?"
Meg's eyes lit up. "Is there an opportunity to find some tennis shoes included with this coffee?"
Jane smiled, setting the half-drank cup back onto the counter without regret.
"I have a pair in my car that I wear running," she replied.
"Perfect," Megara said cheerfully, tossing her shoes up onto the counter next to Jane's drink, and taking her hand, un-self-consciously, as they headed for the door. Meg turned her head to ask a question and bumped noses with Jane. Giggling, she leaned forward and captured Jane's lips for a brief second.
Jane didn't have to be intoxicated to enjoy the heady feeling.