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rainbowfic2012-04-14 11:16 pm
bookblather) wrote in rainbowfic2012-04-14 11:16 pm
Red 13, Tractor Red 5 Offense/Defense
Author: Kat
Title: Offense/Defense
Story: In the Heart
Colors: Red 13 (redheaded stepchild), tractor red 5 (fox in the henhouse) with Nikki's paint-by-numbers (Danny knows an asshole when she sees one.)
Supplies and Materials: Canvas, acrylic (all's well that ends well), oils (the most embarrassing moment ever), stain (“Mistakes are the portals of discovery.” - James Joyce), stickers (15 common grammar mistakes), glitter (You walk into a bar. Tell us what happens.), chalk (crash and burn).
Word Count: 975.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Danny knows an asshole when she sees one.
Warnings: sexism, homophobia, forcible correction of such
Notes: For Kelly, who prompted me this last Christmas.
"Do you think she's having fun?"
Danny swung around to face Ivy, dancing behind her, red hair sticking to her face. "What?"
Ivy nodded towards Olivia, sitting at their table with her legs primly crossed at the ankle, and danced forward to shout in Danny's ear. "Olivia! Do you think she's having fun?"
Danny looked over at her friend. She had her head tipped back, one finger tapping against her knee, the other cupping a Shirley Temple. "She's fine. She doesn't dance is all." Or drink, apparently, but Danny was willing to put that one down to the medication.
"Huh." Ivy looked at her too, thoughtfully. "You think she wants company?"
Not with her eyes closed like they were. "Nah, I told you, she's fine. She just came to listen to the music."
Ivy shrugged, and spun away into the crowd on the dance floor, heading for a particularly pretty blonde dancing alone near the DJ. Danny silently wished her luck, and wondered if she was right. Olivia wasn't exactly... well, she was friendly, and sweet, and she wasn't here for the crowds. Come to think of it, Danny wasn't completely sure why Olivia was here. She didn't dance, she didn't drink, and she was way too hung up on that friend of hers to consider dating. Yet she hadn't even hesitated when Danny asked her to come along.
Danny also wasn't sure why she'd asked Olivia along, but she was pretty sure it had come from a vague sense that friends asked each other to go dancing. Maybe that was why Olivia had accepted.
In that case, she really ought to go spend time with her. Mind made up, Danny flagged down the bartender and ordered a Jameson, and glanced over her shoulder at Olivia while she waited.
She didn't wait for her Jameson. Not after she saw the guy.
He was leaning over Olivia, both hands on the table, trapping her in her seat. Danny couldn't see his face, but she knew the type. He'd be smirking, smarming all over her, trying to pick her up, and from Olivia's expression, she was about an inch away from panicking.
Danny picked up speed.
She got there just in time to catch his last sentence: "Your body language is all closed off. It makes you look like one of those newborns I saw on the discovery channel– all curled up.”
"Negging?" Danny asked, startling him into jumping back. "How quaint. Hey, Livvy, sorry I took so long."
Olivia was up out of her seat and behind Danny before she could even blink. "Danny!" she said, relief loading her tone. "This is Kyle. He has trouble taking no for an answer."
"Oh, really." Danny kept her eyes on him. "Kyle, what does it mean to you, when a woman says she's just here to dance?"
Kyle, looking extremely annoyed, said, "'Scuse me if I didn't realize you were a dyke."
"Uh-huh," Danny said. "Livvy, you want to go grab my Jameson? I got shoved away from the bar."
"On it," Olivia said, relief even heavier in her voice. A moment later, a breeze at Danny's back said she was gone.
Good. She was a sweetheart, and there were things she shouldn't hear.
"So," Danny said, smiling. "Kyle. You realize dyke's a really offensive word, right?"
He rolled his eyes. "Who the fuck cares, dyke? You get your feelings hurt?" He tried to move past her, but Danny put her foot up on Olivia's vacated chair, trapping him.
He stopped, and glared. "Move."
"What's the matter, Kyle, you don't like feeling trapped?" She leaned harder. "Look. I'm doing you a favor here. You don't realize it, but I am."
Kyle folded his arms. "How exactly are you doing me a favor?"
She smiled again. "Don't trap girls. Don't neg them. Don't listen to whatever it is your pathetic little buddies are telling you is a good way to pick up girls. And don't use offensive terms just 'cause you think it's funny, okay? That's a dick move."
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he demanded, his face twisting into something ugly. "I've got the right to free speech just like anyone else."
"Yep," Danny said, happily. It was always nice when they turned out to be assholes-- it meant she didn't have to be nice anymore. "You do. 'Course, I got the right to call you an asshole. I've also got the right to tell you that if I ever see you again, especially if I catch you anywhere near a nice girl like Livvy, I will beat your ass like a redheaded stepchild. Capisce?"
"And what if I call the cops on you?" Kyle asked. His whole body exuded smugness.
Danny made her eyes very wide, let her mouth drop open slightly, and pitched her voice an octave higher. "He grabbed my breast, Officer! I know I overreacted, but I was just so terrified." She dropped the act and raised an eyebrow at him. "Which one you think he'll believe?"
He blew a raspberry. "I'm literally shaking with fear."
"No," she said, still polite. "No, you aren't." She leaned in and did her best to show him all her teeth. "But you could be.
"Fuck you," Kyle said, but he sounded convinced.
"Only in your wildest dreams, asshole," Danny said, and let him go.
A moment later, Ivy slipped up behind her. "Nice job," she said. "Especially getting Olivia out of the way. But really, redheaded stepchild?"
Danny shrugged. "I figured you'd beat him the same way I would."
"Ah," Ivy said. "So when you said 'like a redheaded stepchild,' you meant, as a redheaded stepchild would."
"Got it in one."
Ivy nodded. "In that case I approve. Let's go collect Olivia and find a more congenial atmosphere, shall we?"
"Yes," Danny said, "let's."
Title: Offense/Defense
Story: In the Heart
Colors: Red 13 (redheaded stepchild), tractor red 5 (fox in the henhouse) with Nikki's paint-by-numbers (Danny knows an asshole when she sees one.)
Supplies and Materials: Canvas, acrylic (all's well that ends well), oils (the most embarrassing moment ever), stain (“Mistakes are the portals of discovery.” - James Joyce), stickers (15 common grammar mistakes), glitter (You walk into a bar. Tell us what happens.), chalk (crash and burn).
Word Count: 975.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Danny knows an asshole when she sees one.
Warnings: sexism, homophobia, forcible correction of such
Notes: For Kelly, who prompted me this last Christmas.
"Do you think she's having fun?"
Danny swung around to face Ivy, dancing behind her, red hair sticking to her face. "What?"
Ivy nodded towards Olivia, sitting at their table with her legs primly crossed at the ankle, and danced forward to shout in Danny's ear. "Olivia! Do you think she's having fun?"
Danny looked over at her friend. She had her head tipped back, one finger tapping against her knee, the other cupping a Shirley Temple. "She's fine. She doesn't dance is all." Or drink, apparently, but Danny was willing to put that one down to the medication.
"Huh." Ivy looked at her too, thoughtfully. "You think she wants company?"
Not with her eyes closed like they were. "Nah, I told you, she's fine. She just came to listen to the music."
Ivy shrugged, and spun away into the crowd on the dance floor, heading for a particularly pretty blonde dancing alone near the DJ. Danny silently wished her luck, and wondered if she was right. Olivia wasn't exactly... well, she was friendly, and sweet, and she wasn't here for the crowds. Come to think of it, Danny wasn't completely sure why Olivia was here. She didn't dance, she didn't drink, and she was way too hung up on that friend of hers to consider dating. Yet she hadn't even hesitated when Danny asked her to come along.
Danny also wasn't sure why she'd asked Olivia along, but she was pretty sure it had come from a vague sense that friends asked each other to go dancing. Maybe that was why Olivia had accepted.
In that case, she really ought to go spend time with her. Mind made up, Danny flagged down the bartender and ordered a Jameson, and glanced over her shoulder at Olivia while she waited.
She didn't wait for her Jameson. Not after she saw the guy.
He was leaning over Olivia, both hands on the table, trapping her in her seat. Danny couldn't see his face, but she knew the type. He'd be smirking, smarming all over her, trying to pick her up, and from Olivia's expression, she was about an inch away from panicking.
Danny picked up speed.
She got there just in time to catch his last sentence: "Your body language is all closed off. It makes you look like one of those newborns I saw on the discovery channel– all curled up.”
"Negging?" Danny asked, startling him into jumping back. "How quaint. Hey, Livvy, sorry I took so long."
Olivia was up out of her seat and behind Danny before she could even blink. "Danny!" she said, relief loading her tone. "This is Kyle. He has trouble taking no for an answer."
"Oh, really." Danny kept her eyes on him. "Kyle, what does it mean to you, when a woman says she's just here to dance?"
Kyle, looking extremely annoyed, said, "'Scuse me if I didn't realize you were a dyke."
"Uh-huh," Danny said. "Livvy, you want to go grab my Jameson? I got shoved away from the bar."
"On it," Olivia said, relief even heavier in her voice. A moment later, a breeze at Danny's back said she was gone.
Good. She was a sweetheart, and there were things she shouldn't hear.
"So," Danny said, smiling. "Kyle. You realize dyke's a really offensive word, right?"
He rolled his eyes. "Who the fuck cares, dyke? You get your feelings hurt?" He tried to move past her, but Danny put her foot up on Olivia's vacated chair, trapping him.
He stopped, and glared. "Move."
"What's the matter, Kyle, you don't like feeling trapped?" She leaned harder. "Look. I'm doing you a favor here. You don't realize it, but I am."
Kyle folded his arms. "How exactly are you doing me a favor?"
She smiled again. "Don't trap girls. Don't neg them. Don't listen to whatever it is your pathetic little buddies are telling you is a good way to pick up girls. And don't use offensive terms just 'cause you think it's funny, okay? That's a dick move."
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he demanded, his face twisting into something ugly. "I've got the right to free speech just like anyone else."
"Yep," Danny said, happily. It was always nice when they turned out to be assholes-- it meant she didn't have to be nice anymore. "You do. 'Course, I got the right to call you an asshole. I've also got the right to tell you that if I ever see you again, especially if I catch you anywhere near a nice girl like Livvy, I will beat your ass like a redheaded stepchild. Capisce?"
"And what if I call the cops on you?" Kyle asked. His whole body exuded smugness.
Danny made her eyes very wide, let her mouth drop open slightly, and pitched her voice an octave higher. "He grabbed my breast, Officer! I know I overreacted, but I was just so terrified." She dropped the act and raised an eyebrow at him. "Which one you think he'll believe?"
He blew a raspberry. "I'm literally shaking with fear."
"No," she said, still polite. "No, you aren't." She leaned in and did her best to show him all her teeth. "But you could be.
"Fuck you," Kyle said, but he sounded convinced.
"Only in your wildest dreams, asshole," Danny said, and let him go.
A moment later, Ivy slipped up behind her. "Nice job," she said. "Especially getting Olivia out of the way. But really, redheaded stepchild?"
Danny shrugged. "I figured you'd beat him the same way I would."
"Ah," Ivy said. "So when you said 'like a redheaded stepchild,' you meant, as a redheaded stepchild would."
"Got it in one."
Ivy nodded. "In that case I approve. Let's go collect Olivia and find a more congenial atmosphere, shall we?"
"Yes," Danny said, "let's."