Silence is Bliss
Title: Silence is Bliss
Fandom: Dead Like Me
Rating: PG-13
Notes: First DLM fic. I blame Sheera
-More of a drabble than a short story.
Summary: Roxy finally thought of a way to stop Daisy from talking.
Silence is Bliss
Most people I meet are assholes, insufferable know-it-alls that believe they can park wherever they want whenever they want and no one has the right to punish them.
Which is a pile of shit.
Daisy isn’t that bad though. She’s a flighty, self-absorbed twit who believes in two things: money and sex. Between stories of her sexual exploits, she tries to take advantage of the souls she reaps (though Rube’s slowly beating that out of her). She’s not an idiot like Mason even if she sometimes acts like it. I know toilet-seat-girl’s noticed it too; but Daisy “I-only-have-fluff-between-my-ears Adair” is a better actress than I first gave her credit for.
That doesn’t change the fact that the woman refuses to shut up! She just keeps on yattering on about how this look would suit me far better, how she knows an excellent stylist who could fix up my hair in a jiffy - as if I wanted that.
Sometimes I really miss Betty.
I think it was after we drank champagne at George’s new tombstone that I finally figured out a way to shut her up. The alcohol loosened me up a little, so I agreed to give Daisy a lift home while George and Rube bonded (they’re good for each other; she keeps him from getting stagnant, and he helps her grow). Amusing as her stories about Mason’s attempts at flirting were, they got a little boring after a while.
And then I got the idea. “Daisy?”
“Yes dahlin’?”
“Shut up.” I kissed her.
Blessed silence followed.
Part 2
Part 3
Fandom: Dead Like Me
Rating: PG-13
Notes: First DLM fic. I blame Sheera
-More of a drabble than a short story.
Summary: Roxy finally thought of a way to stop Daisy from talking.
Silence is Bliss
Most people I meet are assholes, insufferable know-it-alls that believe they can park wherever they want whenever they want and no one has the right to punish them.
Which is a pile of shit.
Daisy isn’t that bad though. She’s a flighty, self-absorbed twit who believes in two things: money and sex. Between stories of her sexual exploits, she tries to take advantage of the souls she reaps (though Rube’s slowly beating that out of her). She’s not an idiot like Mason even if she sometimes acts like it. I know toilet-seat-girl’s noticed it too; but Daisy “I-only-have-fluff-between-my-ears Adair” is a better actress than I first gave her credit for.
That doesn’t change the fact that the woman refuses to shut up! She just keeps on yattering on about how this look would suit me far better, how she knows an excellent stylist who could fix up my hair in a jiffy - as if I wanted that.
Sometimes I really miss Betty.
I think it was after we drank champagne at George’s new tombstone that I finally figured out a way to shut her up. The alcohol loosened me up a little, so I agreed to give Daisy a lift home while George and Rube bonded (they’re good for each other; she keeps him from getting stagnant, and he helps her grow). Amusing as her stories about Mason’s attempts at flirting were, they got a little boring after a while.
And then I got the idea. “Daisy?”
“Yes dahlin’?”
“Shut up.” I kissed her.
Blessed silence followed.
Part 2
Part 3