This is for a challenge from the DP list, feel free to join in! : Take the name of a drink
and either make it the title or the drink itself somehow important to your story.
Here's a link to a bartender/drink site: http://www.webtender.com/ Extra points the
more obscure the drink you use is :) Have fun!
Disclaimers: I don't own FK, really.
Archive: permission to Mel, Anita, any DP. Others can email me and let me know
where.
Dead Bastard
By: Cousin Mary
Ingredients:
? 1 oz Brandy
? 1 oz Bourbon
? 1 oz Gin
? 1 oz Rum
? 1/2 oz Lime juice
? 1 dash Bitters
? 1 oz Ginger ale
? Ice
Mixing instructions:
Pour ingredients into glass, stir, and drink.
Tracy awoke to the sound of pounding. She lay in her bed a minute, puzzling
at the semi-distant sound. Eventually her sleepy mind came up with the fact that it
was a door being knocked on, loudly. Her neighbors' door. But weren't the
MacGregors on that cruise?
"Baby Jane! I know yer in thare. Jus' open up will ya?"
Tracy blinked, throwing back the covers and grabbing her robe as she
headed for the door. Screed. Screed was looking for her, why was the carouche
looking for her? Robe in place, and more or less awake, Tracy yanked open her
door and looked down the hall. "Screed!" She hissed at the startled knocker,
"Quick, get in before someone calls the cops on you. It's 4 in the morning!"
"But you're tha cops," He frowned before stumbling down the hall towards
her.
"Geez Screed," Tracy got a whiff of bourbon and possibly something else,
several somethings else, as he moved past her into her apartment, "You've been
drinking, haven't you?"
"Dead Bastard," He nodded solemnly, he spun around then, taking the
blonde's hands in his, "I wanted ta tell ya in person-like."
Tracy wasn't sure if she should be worried or not, she smiled slightly at the
Cockney vampire before her eyes darted to the phone, "Do you want me to try to call
Vachon to come get you?"
Green eyes narrowed, "Now there's a dead bastard," He flopped down on
Tracy's floral print couch, "I come to warn you away from him Baby Jane. "
"From Vachon?" Tracy gingerly settled onto an arm of the loveseat.
Screed seemed momentarily distracted by the TV remote, he turned it over
in his hands a few times, apparently fascinated. Suddenly his face took on a
strange cast and his breathing started to get shallow.
"Oh no," Tracy lunged to her feet, dragging Screed towards the bathroom, "If
your going to be sick, do it in here."
Screed stared at the toilet for a moment, before shoving Tracy out of the
cloud painted room and closing the door.
In the hall Tracy grimaced. She had a vampire throwing up in her bathroom.
Her life was starting to get a bit odd. She headed into her small kitchen area and
went through the motions of making a pot of coffee. She flinched when she heard
the shower start. Now she had a naked, drunk vampire in her apartment. That is,
god she hoped he took off his clothes first.
Eventually the shower went off and the bath tap came on. Tracy poured
herself a cup of coffee and sat down to drink it. She waited about ten minutes
before she got a second cup and decided to brave the bathroom. "Screed?" She
called out quietly as she tapped the door.
There was no answer so she pushed open the door. The room was steamy,
and a pile of rumpled clothes sat in front of the vanity. Screed was in the tub, still
wearing his boxer shorts she was pleased to note, but looking sad and pathetic with
a small cone of bubbles crowning his shaved head. She sighed, "Screed, what are
you doing here?"
The vampire looked at her with sad eyes, "Vachonetti is cuckoldin' ya."
Tracy sat on the closed toilet lid and handed Screed a green and white
striped washcloth. She shook her head slightly, was he telling her Vachon was
cheating on her? Well, her and the former J.D. Valdez were hardly a couple, but
Tracy could admit to herself that the news stung a bit, "Oh. You came all the way
here to tell me that?"
Screed looked away and wrapped the towel around a bar of soap, beginning
to scrub himself down. "Vachonetti always were a ladies man, emphasis on tha
plural. Ya shouldn't put no stock in it though, yer such a nice bird."
Tracy sighed, what was she supposed to say to that? In her heart she'd
known, at least on some level, that Vachon wasn't going to be 'the one,' but the
romantic in her had hoped…
"I've known tha man fer longer than either o' us would admit," Screed went
on, setting the soap aside, "He does like ya," he shrugged, "He jus' doesn't have it
in 'im ta 'ave monogamy, right?"
Tracy forced a smile, the sighed again. She needed ice cream and lots of it.
She wanted to put on her comfy sweats, grab the carton out of the freezer and watch
Casablanca until she'd cried this all out. Course, she couldn't do that while the
carouche was here. She watched, slightly detached as he slipped under the water
to wash off the suds, he sat up and looked at her with wide eyes. So, he was
beginning to sober up and realize just where he was huh?
"Baby Jane…"
Tracy stood and held out a towel to Screed, who stood and took it, drying off
quickly as he stepped out on to the fuzzy bathmat. "It'll be dawn soon, I'll close up
the blinds. You can sleep on the couch."
Screed nodded slowly, following behind the mortal as she light-proofed her
front room and grabbed an extra blanket and pillow from the hall closet. "Ah, Baby
Jane, ya think we might nah mention this visit ta the Spaniard? He takes things a
might personal sometimes…"
Tracy smile a bit at that, no, Vachon probably wouldn't be happy to know
Screed had tattled, "I won't say anything. Good night."
Screed sat down on the couch as Tracy disappeared back into her room.
Vachon had let a fine bird go in that one.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
God, I have Screed love. It's a sickness, it truly is.
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