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Post by Bobby Drake on Aug 18, 2007 14:29:06 GMT -4
It was difficult to say just how long he was asleep. In fact, it was difficult to call the unconscious thing he was doing on Ali's couch 'sleep', but Bobby did wake up feeling strangely all right. There was no headache, no backache, no upset stomach...just a real nasty butt taste in his mouth.
He sat up on the couch and looked around the room while trying to work the taste out of his mouth. He was alone in the room, the sun was out, but he had no idea what time it was.
Fishing into his pocket, he pulled out a cell phone and hit the button. The display screen said it was 9:30 AM.
He looked around again.
Wait a minute! This wasn't home!
He looked around and realized that he was still at Ali's house.
Man. What had happened last night??!
One minute they were talking and sharing a drink...the next minute he was waking up on her couch. Had he gotten lucky? He thought about that and shook his head. Probably not.
Dragging himself off the couch he followed some breakfast smells through a long hall, up some stairs and into this brilliantly lit kitchen. Ali was standing there with her back to him, and he went to look over her shoulder.
"Sayyy, nice melons!"
He reached around her and grabbed a slice of cantaloupe. He took a bite appreciatively, assuming it was okay, then jabbed a finger at the hot rolls that were on the counter. "Want me to butter your buns?"
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Post by dazz on Aug 18, 2007 15:49:48 GMT -4
After Bobby had passed out, Ali had gotten the necessary chores out of the way and retired to the main part of the house, upstairs. She watched some television, jotted down a few notes for a song that popped into her head, and eventually went to bed. She was up by 9:00 again the next morning, heading back down to the kitchen for breakfast. She roamed the house in her pajamas--a decidedly short pair of black shorts and a beater-style tank top. The outfit didn't cover much, but the only person who might catch a glimpse of it had already seen her in less.
Descending the stairs, Ali made her way to the kitchen and started on breakfast. Fruit and rolls were on the counter, and she had bacon and eggs ready by the stove. Usually, Ali would have gone for cereal or some other mindless junk, but she had a guest this morning. Expecting him to be hung over, she already had coffee brewed.
Leaning over the counter, Ali was busy reading the morning paper. Nothing too interesting, but it held her attention enough that she didn't hear Bobby enter the kitchen. It wasn't until he called out that she noticed him.
"Sayyy, nice melons!"
"You don't miss a beat, do ya?"
Ali called back over her shoulder, but Bobby wasn't trying too be dirty. At least, he didn't seem to be. Instead, he went for the cantaloupe placed in front of her.
Oh.
"Want me to butter your buns?"
Ok, you're doing that on purpose now...
Finally looking up from the paper, Ali raised a brow at Bobby. All this joking, the lightweight seemed fine.
"You're not even hung over? I'm impressed. Food'll be up shortly."
She gestured a thumb toward the stove, finishing the article before moving to cook.
"So, sleep well?"
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Post by Bobby Drake on Aug 20, 2007 22:44:27 GMT -4
"You're not even hung over? I'm impressed. Food'll be up shortly."
Impressed. Ali Blaire was impressed with him. He'd spent the night with Ali Blaire and she was impressed. That could so easily be taken out of context, and he LOVED IT! It almost didn't matter at all that there was absolutely nothing that had taken place between them. He had a photograph that looked compromising, and a very vivid imagination.
Oh yeah, they got it on.
"So, sleep well?"
"I think so," Bobby admitted truthfully. "Though I might have to ask...how did I get here again? And please tell me that you took shameless advantage of me."
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Post by dazz on Aug 24, 2007 21:04:12 GMT -4
Finished with the big articles of the day, Ali folded the paper back up haphazardly and moved for the stove. She'd turned the burners on earlier, and by the time she was at the stove, they were hot and ready, butter sizzling in the bottom of one pan for the eggs.
"I think so. Though I might have to ask...how did I get here again? And please tell me that you took shameless advantage of me."
Ali listened to Bobby's response as she upended the package of bacon into one skillet, immediately filling the room with a loud sizzle. She was poking at the mess of raw pork, detangling it with a spatula, as she looked back up to Bobby.
"Sorry, man. Nothing quite so scandalous happened. Or maybe it did, depening on context. I mean, I got you drunk, half-naked, there were photos..." Ali's grin was bright and wicked. "Just nothing happened. We played video games. And you were stalking me and I caught you, since you don't remember how you got here."
Ali looked back at the stove and poked at the bacon some more. It was coming along nicely.
"Eggs?"
The rockstar threw her friend a quick, questioning look as she played happy homemaker.
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Post by Bobby Drake on Aug 25, 2007 6:46:48 GMT -4
"Sorry, man. Nothing quite so scandalous happened. Or maybe it did, deepening on context. I mean, I got you drunk, half-naked, there were photos..." Ali's grin was bright and wicked. "Just nothing happened. We played video games. And you were stalking me and I caught you, since you don't remember how you got here."
Sliding into a chair, Bobby thought about the two options for the briefest of moments before answering. “I’m going with that first one, thanks.” He smiled. He did remember the photo.
"Eggs?"
Swiveling around on the chair, he looked at her. “Sure!” He was starving. “Don’t you have like a full kitchen staff, and a British butler, and all that jazz? I mean, this place is HUGE! And you gotta be totally loaded.”
He looked around the room. No doubt about it, she definitely was loaded.
“If it was me, I’d have my own private chef, and a Taco Bell built into the kitchen.”
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Post by dazz on Aug 26, 2007 16:17:34 GMT -4
"I'm going with that first one, thanks."
Ali let out a short laugh like a bark before she went back to poking the bacon around the sizzling skillet. He hadn't said anything about that, so she supposed Bobby wasn't Jewish, a vegitarian, or even anyone who kept healthy eating habits. That was a good thing. It made Ali look like less of a pig herself. She could put away more food than anyone would believe, looking at her tone frame.
Leaving the first skillet to sizzle on its own for a moment, the rockstar moved for the eggs.
"Fried, scrambled...?"
She prompted him for an answer as she cracked two into a bowl for herself, stirring it up before dropping it into the second pan.
Ali's eyes were focused on the stove and her ears were trained to Bobby as she multitasked. Apparently, he was surprised that she was doing all this herself.
"Kitchen staff and a butler? Aw hell no. Dude, before I broke it big, I lived in a tiny ass apartment with no help from anyone. It just wouldn't be in my nature to have other people doing this crap for me. I mean, I have a cleaning lady that comes in every week or so to help with the tedious stuff, but that's it." Plus, I don't believe in slave labor. With her back to Bobby, he missed the angry look that flitted across her face. However, hers was a dangerous opinion to have. It just wasn't something you said, and while she'd jumped a lot of trust barriers with Bobby in a few hours, he hadn't earned that much yet. So, to keep any suspicions at bay, Ali forced the grin back on her face and joked.
"Oh, and I am SO loaded. It's pretty awesome."
She chuckled at her own feigned arrogance to make sure he knew she was kidding.
"I don't need no private chef. Anything I like I can make myself. I'm a pretty good cook." Ali threw her gaze back to Bobby for a moment, all smiles. "And...that Taco Bell's not a bad idea. But then I'd have to add more bathrooms."
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Post by Bobby Drake on Aug 27, 2007 7:10:30 GMT -4
"Kitchen staff and a butler? Aw hell no. Dude, before I broke it big, I lived in a tiny ass apartment with no help from anyone. It just wouldn't be in my nature to have other people doing this crap for me. I mean, I have a cleaning lady that comes in every week or so to help with the tedious stuff, but that's it."
Bobby nodded like he agreed, though he wasn’t sure he did. Was there something wrong with hiring people to help out? Was there something wrong with a troupe of sexy models in skimpy French maid uniforms, reaching high to dust this, bending low to vacuum that?
Probably.
She probably had a hot pool guy or something that she wasn’t mentioning.
"Oh, and I am SO loaded. It's pretty awesome."
“Yeah yeah,” Bobby said with a grin. “Just keep on rubbing it in.” Working for Guido meant a better than average pay, though nowhere near the kind of coin the world’s greatest rockstar made. If he was truly envious, however, it didn’t show. He was smiling broadly.
"I don't need no private chef. Anything I like I can make myself. I'm a pretty good cook." Ali threw her gaze back to Bobby for a moment, all smiles. "And...that Taco Bell's not a bad idea. But then I'd have to add more bathrooms."
He didn’t see the problem, but smiled at her anyway.
Momma Drake actually raised a pretty well-mannered boy at heart, and after a second or two of watching Dazz cook for him, Bobby felt the nagging need to get up. “Come on,” he said good-naturedly. “What can I do to help then? You got juice poured? I can pour the hell outta some juice!”
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Post by dazz on Aug 27, 2007 9:47:00 GMT -4
Bobby's head was bobbing around like he agreed, but it just wasn't in his eyes as he looked at her. He had probably drifted away back into La-La-Land and was thinking about French maids doing...stuff. Ali didn't want that much insight to Bobby's dirty mind, so she pulled herself out of the gutter.
"Yeah, yeah. Just keep rubbing it in."
Bobby's tone was good-natured and genuine. Acknowledging his jibe, Ali replied.
"Don't you make friends with all the people you stalk? They're rich. Mooch if ya got a problem with it. Or take more scandalous photos. They should be worth some moolah. Just no sellin' scandalous pics of me."
For a few minutes, Ali turned her back on the conversation, poking at the contents of the two skillets in front of her. The bacon was just about done, and she was set to plate the first batch of eggs. Moving expertly around her kitchen, she was reaching for the plates when Bobby offered to help. She paused mid-action to laugh and then gestured to an adjacent cupboard.
"Glasses are in there, drinks in the fridge. Give 'em hell for me, man."
Then Ali continued her tasks, sliding the scrambled eggs onto one plate, scooping the bacon onto a pile of paper towels to drain. Breakfast was almost done, so she started the second round of eggs in the pan.
"Aw, my own little kitchen helper."
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Post by Bobby Drake on Aug 28, 2007 7:04:11 GMT -4
"Don't you make friends with all the people you stalk? They're rich. Mooch if ya got a problem with it. Or take more scandalous photos. They should be worth some moolah. Just no sellin' scandalous pics of me."
Hmmm. "But you didn't say I couldn't take the scandalous pics of you," Bobby noted mischievously.
He got up at her direction and tracked down the glasses, pulling out a couple and laying them on the counter top lightly. Time to show off his skillz as a pourer. He couldn't exactly feel her checking him out, but he did hear her commentary as he topped off the second glass.
"Aw, my own little kitchen helper."
Turning an accusing smile her way, Bobby held up the glasses. "Don't go trying to domesticize me," he warned. "I'm like a wild stallion." He let her figure out in which ways as he brought the glasses up close and expelled a frosty breath on them, giving the beverages that extra chill that had the glasses pinging and making crackling noises.
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Post by dazz on Aug 28, 2007 11:46:31 GMT -4
"You're right, I didn't." Ali looked up from the pan for the briefest moment to flash him a devious grin. "I mean, you already did, so I can't really say anything to you now."
She snickered under her breath as Bobby moved behind her, getting out the glasses and pouring the juice. She made her comment about having a kitchen helper, and he took it in stride with a great defense.
"Don't go trying to domesticise me. I'm like a wild stallion."
"Oh, so I can't ride you then? Damn."
She feigned a tone of perfect innocence, but there was no way he could miss the innuendo in that little statement. Beside her, Bobby blew a puff of breath onto the glasses and suddenly her dishware was crackling like it was carved from ice cubes.
"I should keep you around for that trick at parties," She commented idly. The second batch of eggs held her attention as it was just about finished. Sliding it out of the pan onto the third plate, she took one plate of eggs in each hand, the bacon balanced precariously on her forearm. With the practiced grace of a former waitress, she dropped all the good onto the island table where the fruit and buns still sat waiting. Hopping onto one of the barstools, she dug in without waiting for her guest.
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Post by Bobby Drake on Aug 28, 2007 17:03:20 GMT -4
"Oh, so I can't ride you then? Damn."
Bobby almost dropped the glass he was holding, and whipped his head around to catch Ali’s playful look just before it was too late. It occurred to him almost immediately that she was joking, and he sought for a good comeback, but found nothing in the face of the mental imagery of her riding him. Later on he thought of something involving a saddle or bareback, and he was tempted to call her with it, but he figured the window of opportunity was gone on that joke.
"I should keep you around for that trick at parties," she said after he cooled the drinks with a breath.
Bobby grinned proudly and joined her at the table. “A blowing job?” He thought about it. “I thought you’d never ask.” Innocently he helped himself to some food.
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Post by dazz on Aug 29, 2007 9:26:26 GMT -4
Ali caught the gaping surprise on Bobby's face for the briefest moment before having to turn her focus to the eggs in the pan. Oh man, the things that had to be in his mind right now were priceless. Quite obvious by his silence, Bobby was too distracted by them to reply. The rockstar's laugh got heartier at his loss for words.
You aren't the only one good at this game.
Ali had one of the worst gutterminds in existence, but it was inappropriate to the point she'd forcibly shut it away. Now, with Bobby to play with, it was going through a grand revival.
Sitting at the table and digging into her breakfast, Ali spared Bobby a bright glance as he sat down opposite her, placing the juice on the table. Immediately, she took the offered glass and downed a sip.
She really shouldn't have done that, though. Not with what Bobby was about to say.
"A blowing job? I thought you'd never ask."
Suddenly Ali was choking on the drink. It was either spit it out fast or it would come out her nose. She had a feeling that would sting with orange juice...
Her hands moved for the glass, and destroying any image of grace or ladylike behavior forever, spit the juice back out and grabbed a napkin. Bobby was just sitting there, looking innocent as he ate.
For a moment, it seemed she was scowling at him. However, as she moved the napkin away to reveal her mouth, she was grinning. She wanted to be pissed at him for eliciting such a response, but it was too awesome a joke to hold it against him. Her glare failing, she broke into laughter and shrugged.
"Ya got me there, B. That was a good one."
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Post by Bobby Drake on Aug 29, 2007 22:27:11 GMT -4
He hadn't really been expecting it when Ali suddenly lost all control over her breathing. Orange juice sputtered out from the sides of her lips and dribbled down her chin, raining onto the flat surface in front of her like a citrus slobberfall.
Now most of the time Ali had a way of pulling something off and making it look sexy. But he figured this was proof that not everything she did was sexy as she coughed and sputtered like a motorboat in February. The other thing he figured that most definitely wouldn't be sexy was if she cut the cheese boisterously and it stank. Even if she was wearing see through lingerie.
Belching might be okay. Not exactly sexy, but not a turnoff. Really he had to say that farting or anything else coming from the southern exit was pretty much the only thing that would really turn him off.
Oh, and spitting OJ all over herself wasn't too hot either.
But Bobby was still grinning.
"Ya got me there, B. That was a good one."
Grabbing a nearby napkin, he dabbled at some foamy juice on her chin. "I never thought I'd be wiping dribble off my rock idol's chin."
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Post by dazz on Aug 31, 2007 22:41:10 GMT -4
Ali knew she'd just made a total mess of herself. There was no denying her mortifying reaction, but it wasn't like she could take it back. Liquid didn't flow upwards, afterall. There was nothing else to do but laugh it off and try to be cool as Bobby not only thought her a wreck, but decided she needed help cleaning herself up.
"I never thought I'd be wiping dribble off my rock idol's chin."
Ali laughed again, albeit rather pitifully. Shrugging like the loser she really was, she was still grinning through it all. She raised a hand and gently grabbed his wrist. With her other hand, she wiped the remains of a tear from her eye.
"Haha, I think I've got it from here, thanks."
Her words didn't come out as sarcastic as she'd envisioned. Pulling the damp napkin from his fingers, she held his gaze a bit longer than necessary. For the briefest moment, there was an air of something...different. Then, she was laughing again suddenly, goodnaturedly at herself.
"See, I'm human, same as anyone else. I'm no idol."
Hopelessly, she looked down at her now-stained shirt. She tried to wipe at it, but it didn't do much to minimize the wet t-shirt look she had going. Nothing had spilled on those parts, but the juice that ran down the middle turned the fabric a bit transparent.
She had an feeling that Bobby would lament her poor aim.
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Post by Bobby Drake on Sept 1, 2007 15:59:08 GMT -4
"Haha, I think I've got it from here, thanks."
Ali’s hand on his wrist halted the attempt to clean her up. She looked at him with a smile and for just a moment the clocks stopped ticking. Bobby was caught between breaths and neither of them blinked for what felt like a long time. When Ali started laughing again, Bobby felt like he was returning from somewhere.
He blinked his eyes and looked away, slightly confused as the moment faded away.
"See, I'm human, same as anyone else. I'm no idol."
Bobby looked back at her. “I’m not convinced,” he said absently and then his cell phone beeped. There was a text on it. Bobby, where in the HELL are you?? From Tiffany, of course. He thought about answering her with some kind of smart ass remark, but looking at the time he realized he was supposed to have met her about half an hour ago.
“Crap,” he said pocketing his phone. “I gotta run in a few. But not before I help you change your shirt,” he said with a waggle of his brows. “It’s the least I can do, I insist.” He covered his eyes with his hand, splaying the fingers for extra peepage. "I won't look, I swear!"
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