Fic: Galentine’s - Girls’ Night Out - PG, Dawson & Shay, Friendship, Gen, Humor
More Galentine's fic! This one is my favorite TV female friendship ever, Dawson & Shay! For lizibabes prompt of Dawson & Shay, girls’ night out. For lizibabes, my long-distance BFF, always there for me, I love you! 1,341 words of drinking, carnival games and girls' night fun! Enjoy!
Title: Galentine’s - Girls’ Night Out
Author: dodger_sister
Fandom: Chicago Fire
Category: Friendship, General, Humor
Characters/Pairing: Dawson & Shay
Rating: PG
Warnings: Drinking, copiously.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: What Dawson really needs is a night away from the opposite gender. So that’s exactly what Shay gives her.
Word Count: 1,341 words.
Date Written: 02/28/2016
Disclaimer: Chicago Fire belongs to Dick Wolf & Co. Not me. Wrote this story for fun, not profit.
Feedback: Bring it. dodger_sister / TheArtofDodger@comcast.net
Beta’d: Nope.
Author's Notes: For the Galentine’s ’verse and lizibabes's prompt of Dawson & Shay, girls’ night out. I was so happy to get prompted with my favorite TV female friendship! Thanks to dugindeep for a little Chicago help. For the record, yes, I love carnival games, no, I’ve never played them drunk before.
Dedication: For lizibabes, my long-distance BFF, always there for me, I love you!
It’d been one of those days.
Where the boys had ruined everything.
Cruz and Otis had gotten into a fight over a girl. Capp had found out someone was banging his wife on the side and had broken several dishes in the kitchen and then been sent home - which, okay, nobody blamed him for his outburst. At least it hadn’t been someone in the house banging his wife, which had happened among squad members not too many years back. Then Casey and Severide had had a hissy fit at each other about something - nobody could keep track anymore what they were mad at each other for. And Herrmann, not shockingly, had said something insensitive to someone about something, yet again.
Dawson loved them all, she really did, but oh lord, she needed some girl-time.
“I have just the thing,” Shay told her.
‘The Thing’ turned out to be a fundraiser for a women’s health clinic.
“This is your bright idea?” Dawson asked. “I mean, I support the cause, but I was thinking more of getting drunk at my bar.”
“Your bar? Where every jackass we just left at the firehouse will be? With more of their jackassery?” Shay asked and shook her head. “Girl, you must be playin’.”
Dawson pushed her, Shay’s head bumping lightly against the car window.
“Look,” Shay told her, “It’s a Women’s Only Drink N’ Play Fun Fest. And the money goes to a good cause.”
“Women only, huh?” Dawson asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow at her friend. “So, you’re going to be hitting on chicks all night then?”
“It’s not lesbian women only,” Shay told her, partially disgusted that Dawson would assume so and partially disgusted than it wasn’t, in fact, an all lesbian event where she would most definitely be going home with a hottie on her arm. “Besides, I came here with you.”
The noise that erupted out of Dawson then was somewhere between a snort and a bark, because Shay always came with her, but rarely ever left with her. At least at Dawson’s bar, she could always find a ride home.
“Okay,” she said at last. “Women’s Only Drink N’ Play Fun Fest it is.”
***
It actually didn’t turn out to be that bad. For one, they had alcohol. For two, they had carnival games. And for three, it was, in fact, women only, which meant Dawson didn’t have to put up with any more nonsense from the male gender.
“See, I played softball in high school,” Dawson told Shay, as they approached the Ball & Bottles game, where five old-fashioned milk bottles were stacked on top of each other in a pyramid shape, a classic and traditional carnival game.
“I’m aware you played softball in high school,” Shay told her with little interest. “But these games are still rigged.”
“I’ve got this,” Dawson said, with all the confidence of someone who’d had just enough wine to forget that Shay was probably, usually, right about these things. “Here, hold this,” and she handed off her newly filled wine glass to her friend.
Shay still looked bored, but maybe also a little amused, as Dawson felt the weight of the softball in her hand.
“See, this is how I do,” Dawson said, pulling her arm back.
And then she threw.
***
“I own a bar,” Dawson told the game vendor confidently.
“Congratulations,” she told Dawson with a smirk.
“I also work at a firehouse,” Dawson said and grinned back, a little drunk and a little confident, if there was a difference between the two. “Only that one area of my employ has days with extensive downtime and the other doesn’t. But see, both areas have dartboards.”
“Would you just pop the damn balloons already?” Shay asked and took a huge swallow from one of the wine glasses. She was holding them both and at this stage in the evening it didn’t really matter whose was whose.
“Pick out your foam owl on a stick, babe, cuz I’ve got this one,” Dawson said, pulling her arm back.
And then she threw.
***
“Ring toss? What is this, kindergarten?” Dawson asked. She might have been slurring a little.
“It’s harder than the peg ones we have at the family picnic every year,” Shay pointed out, wine sloshing over the edge of her glass as she tried to make her hand move in the right direction. “It’s got bottles.”
“Of beer on the wall!” Dawson shouted.
The female vendor laughed and handed Dawson a stack of rings. “I’m throwing in two extra to compensate for your drunken state.”
“Don’t even need them,” Dawson said and handed the woman back three of the rings. It was possible she was past the point of being able to count properly.
“This evening is going different than I expected,” Shay said to no one in particular.
“Because you expected nothing,” Dawson said, pulling her arm back.
And then she threw.
***
“Giant neon teddy bears, here we come,” Dawson said and stepped up to the water gun, the clown waiting with its mouth open for her to shoot.
“I never got this one,” Shay said. “Like, why does shooting water in a clown’s mouth fill a balloon with air and then pop and like, it makes no sense.”
“You make no sense,” Dawson told her.
“What?” Shay asked.
“Pick out your bear, cuz I’m winning you the biggest one there is!” Dawson said and slapped Shay on the back. “Strange, I think I’m starting to sober up.”
“Should I get us more wine then?” Shay asked, even though they had both been cut off a half hour ago.
“Nah, just watch me work,” Dawson said, rolling her shoulders.
And then she started firing.
***
“Shoot it in the mouth! The mouth!”
“I am shooting it in the mouth!”
“No, the mouth of your clown, not mine!” Shay hollered at her.
“I’m putting it in the clown’s mouth! I’m putting it in the clown’s mouth!”
“Shoot it, not put it. Don’t put things in the…for god’s sake, this is a family friendly event,” Shay told her.
“Not anymore it’s not,” the vendor said dryly.
“This game is rigged,” Dawson grumbled. “It’s not blowing up my balloon.”
“You’re just a terrible shot.”
“So are you!” Dawson cried.
“My brother’s not a cop,” Shay said with a shrug.
“What does that have to do with anything?” and Dawson started grabbing at the various guns and shooting them all.
“In the mouth!” Shay hollered at her.
“I’m putting it in the mouth!”
“Ladies,” the vendor said. “It’s been twenty minutes. Time to let it go.”
“You let it go,” Shay mumbled. “I want my teddy bear. I‘ve already named him.”
“Yeah,” Dawson said, reaching for the balloon on her clown’s head.
And then she threw up.
***
Severide stumbled down the stairs into his kitchen to find Shay there, feeding a goldfish in a small fish bowl.
“Uh, nice fish,” he said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“Thanks, Dawson won it for me.”
Severide gestured at the wooden stick tapped to their refrigerator door, a flapping foam owl hanging off the end.
“Nice owl on a stick.”
“Thanks, Dawson won it for me.”
“And, uh,” he said, gesturing at the neon fuzzy fedora on Shay’s head. “Nice fedora?”
“Thanks, Dawson won it for me.”
“I’m just gonna assume…” he said and pointed at the teddy bear taking up half of the kitchen corner. “Nice blue neon teddy bear.”
“Thanks, Dawson stole him for me. His name is Frankie.”
“Wait, what?” Severide asked. “Did you just say…”
“I’m putting it in the clown’s mouth!” someone yelled from behind him and he spun around to find Dawson passed out on the couch.
“In the mouth,” she mumbled, before rolling over and pressing her face into the couch cushions.
“What did you do to Dawson?” Severide asked his roommate.
Shay simply smiled. “Girl’s night out,” she said, with a wink. Then she picked up her fish in a bowl and went upstairs.
The End
Title: Galentine’s - Girls’ Night Out
Author: dodger_sister
Fandom: Chicago Fire
Category: Friendship, General, Humor
Characters/Pairing: Dawson & Shay
Rating: PG
Warnings: Drinking, copiously.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: What Dawson really needs is a night away from the opposite gender. So that’s exactly what Shay gives her.
Word Count: 1,341 words.
Date Written: 02/28/2016
Disclaimer: Chicago Fire belongs to Dick Wolf & Co. Not me. Wrote this story for fun, not profit.
Feedback: Bring it. dodger_sister / TheArtofDodger@comcast.net
Beta’d: Nope.
Author's Notes: For the Galentine’s ’verse and lizibabes's prompt of Dawson & Shay, girls’ night out. I was so happy to get prompted with my favorite TV female friendship! Thanks to dugindeep for a little Chicago help. For the record, yes, I love carnival games, no, I’ve never played them drunk before.
Dedication: For lizibabes, my long-distance BFF, always there for me, I love you!
It’d been one of those days.
Where the boys had ruined everything.
Cruz and Otis had gotten into a fight over a girl. Capp had found out someone was banging his wife on the side and had broken several dishes in the kitchen and then been sent home - which, okay, nobody blamed him for his outburst. At least it hadn’t been someone in the house banging his wife, which had happened among squad members not too many years back. Then Casey and Severide had had a hissy fit at each other about something - nobody could keep track anymore what they were mad at each other for. And Herrmann, not shockingly, had said something insensitive to someone about something, yet again.
Dawson loved them all, she really did, but oh lord, she needed some girl-time.
“I have just the thing,” Shay told her.
‘The Thing’ turned out to be a fundraiser for a women’s health clinic.
“This is your bright idea?” Dawson asked. “I mean, I support the cause, but I was thinking more of getting drunk at my bar.”
“Your bar? Where every jackass we just left at the firehouse will be? With more of their jackassery?” Shay asked and shook her head. “Girl, you must be playin’.”
Dawson pushed her, Shay’s head bumping lightly against the car window.
“Look,” Shay told her, “It’s a Women’s Only Drink N’ Play Fun Fest. And the money goes to a good cause.”
“Women only, huh?” Dawson asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow at her friend. “So, you’re going to be hitting on chicks all night then?”
“It’s not lesbian women only,” Shay told her, partially disgusted that Dawson would assume so and partially disgusted than it wasn’t, in fact, an all lesbian event where she would most definitely be going home with a hottie on her arm. “Besides, I came here with you.”
The noise that erupted out of Dawson then was somewhere between a snort and a bark, because Shay always came with her, but rarely ever left with her. At least at Dawson’s bar, she could always find a ride home.
“Okay,” she said at last. “Women’s Only Drink N’ Play Fun Fest it is.”
***
It actually didn’t turn out to be that bad. For one, they had alcohol. For two, they had carnival games. And for three, it was, in fact, women only, which meant Dawson didn’t have to put up with any more nonsense from the male gender.
“See, I played softball in high school,” Dawson told Shay, as they approached the Ball & Bottles game, where five old-fashioned milk bottles were stacked on top of each other in a pyramid shape, a classic and traditional carnival game.
“I’m aware you played softball in high school,” Shay told her with little interest. “But these games are still rigged.”
“I’ve got this,” Dawson said, with all the confidence of someone who’d had just enough wine to forget that Shay was probably, usually, right about these things. “Here, hold this,” and she handed off her newly filled wine glass to her friend.
Shay still looked bored, but maybe also a little amused, as Dawson felt the weight of the softball in her hand.
“See, this is how I do,” Dawson said, pulling her arm back.
And then she threw.
***
“I own a bar,” Dawson told the game vendor confidently.
“Congratulations,” she told Dawson with a smirk.
“I also work at a firehouse,” Dawson said and grinned back, a little drunk and a little confident, if there was a difference between the two. “Only that one area of my employ has days with extensive downtime and the other doesn’t. But see, both areas have dartboards.”
“Would you just pop the damn balloons already?” Shay asked and took a huge swallow from one of the wine glasses. She was holding them both and at this stage in the evening it didn’t really matter whose was whose.
“Pick out your foam owl on a stick, babe, cuz I’ve got this one,” Dawson said, pulling her arm back.
And then she threw.
***
“Ring toss? What is this, kindergarten?” Dawson asked. She might have been slurring a little.
“It’s harder than the peg ones we have at the family picnic every year,” Shay pointed out, wine sloshing over the edge of her glass as she tried to make her hand move in the right direction. “It’s got bottles.”
“Of beer on the wall!” Dawson shouted.
The female vendor laughed and handed Dawson a stack of rings. “I’m throwing in two extra to compensate for your drunken state.”
“Don’t even need them,” Dawson said and handed the woman back three of the rings. It was possible she was past the point of being able to count properly.
“This evening is going different than I expected,” Shay said to no one in particular.
“Because you expected nothing,” Dawson said, pulling her arm back.
And then she threw.
***
“Giant neon teddy bears, here we come,” Dawson said and stepped up to the water gun, the clown waiting with its mouth open for her to shoot.
“I never got this one,” Shay said. “Like, why does shooting water in a clown’s mouth fill a balloon with air and then pop and like, it makes no sense.”
“You make no sense,” Dawson told her.
“What?” Shay asked.
“Pick out your bear, cuz I’m winning you the biggest one there is!” Dawson said and slapped Shay on the back. “Strange, I think I’m starting to sober up.”
“Should I get us more wine then?” Shay asked, even though they had both been cut off a half hour ago.
“Nah, just watch me work,” Dawson said, rolling her shoulders.
And then she started firing.
***
“Shoot it in the mouth! The mouth!”
“I am shooting it in the mouth!”
“No, the mouth of your clown, not mine!” Shay hollered at her.
“I’m putting it in the clown’s mouth! I’m putting it in the clown’s mouth!”
“Shoot it, not put it. Don’t put things in the…for god’s sake, this is a family friendly event,” Shay told her.
“Not anymore it’s not,” the vendor said dryly.
“This game is rigged,” Dawson grumbled. “It’s not blowing up my balloon.”
“You’re just a terrible shot.”
“So are you!” Dawson cried.
“My brother’s not a cop,” Shay said with a shrug.
“What does that have to do with anything?” and Dawson started grabbing at the various guns and shooting them all.
“In the mouth!” Shay hollered at her.
“I’m putting it in the mouth!”
“Ladies,” the vendor said. “It’s been twenty minutes. Time to let it go.”
“You let it go,” Shay mumbled. “I want my teddy bear. I‘ve already named him.”
“Yeah,” Dawson said, reaching for the balloon on her clown’s head.
And then she threw up.
***
Severide stumbled down the stairs into his kitchen to find Shay there, feeding a goldfish in a small fish bowl.
“Uh, nice fish,” he said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“Thanks, Dawson won it for me.”
Severide gestured at the wooden stick tapped to their refrigerator door, a flapping foam owl hanging off the end.
“Nice owl on a stick.”
“Thanks, Dawson won it for me.”
“And, uh,” he said, gesturing at the neon fuzzy fedora on Shay’s head. “Nice fedora?”
“Thanks, Dawson won it for me.”
“I’m just gonna assume…” he said and pointed at the teddy bear taking up half of the kitchen corner. “Nice blue neon teddy bear.”
“Thanks, Dawson stole him for me. His name is Frankie.”
“Wait, what?” Severide asked. “Did you just say…”
“I’m putting it in the clown’s mouth!” someone yelled from behind him and he spun around to find Dawson passed out on the couch.
“In the mouth,” she mumbled, before rolling over and pressing her face into the couch cushions.
“What did you do to Dawson?” Severide asked his roommate.
Shay simply smiled. “Girl’s night out,” she said, with a wink. Then she picked up her fish in a bowl and went upstairs.
The End