Fic: Feed That Habit
Title: Feed That Habit
Characters: Nerd+Chick
Word Count: 462
Prompt: So! I was reading "Who Miss You Every Single Night" to cheer myself up (yes, I know, I must be sad for Hooker!Verse to actually *boost* my spirits) and I was struck with a craving for Nerd/Chick friendship. Could be anything; talking about Critic, helping to control her drinking, playing a card game, listening to her rant about Penny, Michaud or Nella... I just feel like some sweet!Nerd, people!
Disclaimer: These two people aren't mine.
If asked, the Nerd would have said he was at the club because he had a social life. He would have said "d'you think my Chicago stays are about that slutty fuckhead? I'm not that fucking clingy thank you". A bit more creative swearing than that obviously, but he was tired, he could be forgiven for a lack of imagination at the moment.
But the truth was slightly more pathetic than that, like it always was. He'd gone over to the Critic's place, having sneaked a look at the schedule when the Mikes weren't looking and seeing that he had a night off. When he got to the building, trying not to choke at the smell of year-old booze and suspicious stains on the walls - which wasn't easy when the elevator was broken and he had to take the five stories of stairs to get to apartment 258 - he'd heard bed bouncing and familiar screaming. That meant Critic's batshit kidnapping twin was around, and God knows he could admit he didn't have the stones to deal with that crap.
Long story short, he was lonely and needed some company.
So he was kinda grateful when, in the swarming throng of people, he saw the Chick alone and drinking at a table; her glare probably scaring off anyone that felt like bothering her in any shape or form.
He had a high tolerance of scary shit from his video games though, and so went and sat with her. He was greeted with a wan but not faked smile.
"Critic tied up at the moment?"
About to give the "my life doesn't revolve around a whore" routine, he saw her mouth twitch. That usually meant "don't even bother lying", so he nodded.
"It bad that I have fantasies about Ask That Guy getting soaked with gasoline and getting pulled apart by flaming horses?" she asked, almost wistfully.
He couldn't help but chuckle. "Just means you're an imaginative young lady."
Her tone suddenly got pleading, her dark green eyes looking even huger in the strobing blue lights. "Why? Why does he stay with him? Do you know what there could possibly to be gain?"
He tried his best to be logical. "I'm guessing everyone here has made choices about who to rely on." But as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it was a mistake.
She sighed, finally exhausted. "Yeah, and I'm supposed to look after all of them, not just Critic even, and I- I just-" She finished off, looking so very tired and lost. "It's killing me. I can't handle this."
He wasn't into emotions and neither was she, but he kissed her forehead and stroked her pigtails while the crowd still went on with life without them.
Characters: Nerd+Chick
Word Count: 462
Prompt: So! I was reading "Who Miss You Every Single Night" to cheer myself up (yes, I know, I must be sad for Hooker!Verse to actually *boost* my spirits) and I was struck with a craving for Nerd/Chick friendship. Could be anything; talking about Critic, helping to control her drinking, playing a card game, listening to her rant about Penny, Michaud or Nella... I just feel like some sweet!Nerd, people!
Disclaimer: These two people aren't mine.
If asked, the Nerd would have said he was at the club because he had a social life. He would have said "d'you think my Chicago stays are about that slutty fuckhead? I'm not that fucking clingy thank you". A bit more creative swearing than that obviously, but he was tired, he could be forgiven for a lack of imagination at the moment.
But the truth was slightly more pathetic than that, like it always was. He'd gone over to the Critic's place, having sneaked a look at the schedule when the Mikes weren't looking and seeing that he had a night off. When he got to the building, trying not to choke at the smell of year-old booze and suspicious stains on the walls - which wasn't easy when the elevator was broken and he had to take the five stories of stairs to get to apartment 258 - he'd heard bed bouncing and familiar screaming. That meant Critic's batshit kidnapping twin was around, and God knows he could admit he didn't have the stones to deal with that crap.
Long story short, he was lonely and needed some company.
So he was kinda grateful when, in the swarming throng of people, he saw the Chick alone and drinking at a table; her glare probably scaring off anyone that felt like bothering her in any shape or form.
He had a high tolerance of scary shit from his video games though, and so went and sat with her. He was greeted with a wan but not faked smile.
"Critic tied up at the moment?"
About to give the "my life doesn't revolve around a whore" routine, he saw her mouth twitch. That usually meant "don't even bother lying", so he nodded.
"It bad that I have fantasies about Ask That Guy getting soaked with gasoline and getting pulled apart by flaming horses?" she asked, almost wistfully.
He couldn't help but chuckle. "Just means you're an imaginative young lady."
Her tone suddenly got pleading, her dark green eyes looking even huger in the strobing blue lights. "Why? Why does he stay with him? Do you know what there could possibly to be gain?"
He tried his best to be logical. "I'm guessing everyone here has made choices about who to rely on." But as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it was a mistake.
She sighed, finally exhausted. "Yeah, and I'm supposed to look after all of them, not just Critic even, and I- I just-" She finished off, looking so very tired and lost. "It's killing me. I can't handle this."
He wasn't into emotions and neither was she, but he kissed her forehead and stroked her pigtails while the crowd still went on with life without them.