FIC: BFF
Title: BFF
Author: Amy (alexia@innergeekdom.net)
Website: http://www.innergeekdom.net
Fandom: Mean Girls
Ship: Gretchen/Regina
Spoilers: movie
Rating: PG-13?
Archive: Anyone who wants it. Just let me know.
Summary: They're best friends. It's what they do.
1,113 words.
When you got right down to it, Gretchen thought, this part really wasn't any weirder than any other part of her relationship with Regina George.
Like, yeah, it was weird. And kind of gay.
But, well, they didn't exactly function the way other girls did.
After all, they were best friends.
It wasn't like there were different rules for them, exactly? Except that there totally were.
Because, like, it's one thing to be one of... them. The Art Freaks or the Band Geeks or any of the rest of the kids who were just... there. None of them had to be in the spotlight all the time. None of them understood what it was like.
So the fact that Regina was lying naked in her bed, arching like a cat and bitching about how Shane Oman might have gorgeous muscles but could not get a girl off for shit? Really wasn't that odd, considering.
Gretchen wasn't sure what she was considering, exactly, but she was sure it made things make more sense.
Because, okay, she was not gay. Neither of them were. They were just... close.
Okay, there was that time she and Regina had made out for like twenty minutes at the Halloween party freshman year? But that was totally because some of the boys were watching and they said it was really sexy.
Which it was. But, well, that was Regina. Everything she touched...
"You're staring."
Gretchen blinked. "What? No, I'm not."
Regina gestured. "At the poster. I told you, if they'd had two I would have gotten you one."
"Oh. Right. Um, yeah. Well, it's a really cool poster."
"I know, right?"
Of course she knew. Regina always knew. That was what happened when you were best friends. You could practically read each other's minds.
"Everything okay, Gretch?" Regina asked.
"Sure. Just distracted."
"Yeah, I can tell."
Of course she could. Regina could tell anything. Gretchen was pretty sure that if she decided to sleep on her right side instead of her left one night, Regina would know. And she'd probably know why, also. That was just how Regina worked.
Gretchen knew Regina's room almost as well as she knew her own. She'd probably slept here just as often, too.
Ever since third grade, there had been sleepovers. And after the whole Janis debacle, when Regina could only have one or two people over, Gretchen was almost always one of them.
It was always so great to be chosen. And to know, not just that you were chosen, but that there were other people who weren't chosen just so that you could be.
There were so many firsts in that room. Regina had the fine art of stealing her parents' porn down to a science. When they were ten, they'd looked at Playboys, examining the impossibly pert bodies like they were the Holy Grail. And at last, Regina had nodded, smiled, and said "That's going to be me in ten years."
It hadn't taken nearly that long.
Katie had been the first of them to get her period. But, well, of course she had; Katie was a total slut. When they were in fourth grade, she'd had to wear a bra, and Gretchen knew she'd let a guy take it off before she hit middle school. Katie went to a Catholic school in eighth grade, and by then they all understood about tampons and pads and how their hormones were cycling. But it was in Regina's room where she'd first seen anything outside of "Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret" and first understood that the whole "belt" thing was a story told to scare small children out of ever menstruating.
Gretchen had had her first kiss in this room, when Regina had her first boy/girl party- the first boy/girl party anyone their age had had- and they were playing Spin the Bottle and she'd gotten stuck with Bobby Fleming, and it had been sticky and gross and not at all fun. And then Regina had rolled her eyes, and said no, this was how you were supposed to kiss someone, and she had practically attacked Bobby with her tongue and all Gretchen remembered was that she couldn't stop watching that.
The school had given them condoms in health class, but Coach Carr been afraid to show them how to use them. So it was here that Regina, queen of all she surveyed, had given her own demonstration, not on a banana like Gretchen had expected- she'd found it was best to prepare herself for what Regina might do, so that she didn't look like a retard all the time- but on this realistic-looking thing. A vibrator. How did Regina have one of those? -No, Gretchen did not want to know.
"It's like- guys? Don't care," Regina said. "So you got to do it yourself. And then teach them. because god, Gretchen, you don't ever want to go out with a guy who doesn't try? But he'll try and then fail, and then he can leave, and you use this."
And then the time Regina explained how you, you know, and what you had to do, and god, Gretch, didn't you ever just...? No, of course she didn't; Gretchen was a good girl who even occasionally went to temple sometimes when her dad was feeling particularly guilty, and also for the High Holy Days if she couldn't play sick.
But this was Regina asking. "Sure," she'd said nervously. "Doesn't everyone?"
And then there had been Regina, and her, and she and Regina- somehow these were three separate entities, in her mind; the whole was not merely the sum of the parts, but this thing, this dynamo of Regina and her together, which was crazy in and of itself, but there it was- and "No, Gretch, put your finger- yeah, that's right, like that," until Gretchen knew exactly what to do because that was what best friends did, and she was going to be Regina's best friend if it killed her.
Especially since... well, it was fun. Not in a gay way or anything. Just... it was fun.
And Gretchen knew Regina, like really knew her. Better than Karen did or Katie had. Better than Shane Oman or Aaron Samuels. Better than Regina herself.
Because she had seen Regina, whimpering, calling out, arching like a kitten, wanting.
Because she could do this to Regina, could do things that no one else could do even if they wanted to, but no one else would dare try because this was Regina and who would dare attempt only to fail?
Because she and Regina were best friends. That was just the way things worked.
Author: Amy (alexia@innergeekdom.net)
Website: http://www.innergeekdom.net
Fandom: Mean Girls
Ship: Gretchen/Regina
Spoilers: movie
Rating: PG-13?
Archive: Anyone who wants it. Just let me know.
Summary: They're best friends. It's what they do.
1,113 words.
When you got right down to it, Gretchen thought, this part really wasn't any weirder than any other part of her relationship with Regina George.
Like, yeah, it was weird. And kind of gay.
But, well, they didn't exactly function the way other girls did.
After all, they were best friends.
It wasn't like there were different rules for them, exactly? Except that there totally were.
Because, like, it's one thing to be one of... them. The Art Freaks or the Band Geeks or any of the rest of the kids who were just... there. None of them had to be in the spotlight all the time. None of them understood what it was like.
So the fact that Regina was lying naked in her bed, arching like a cat and bitching about how Shane Oman might have gorgeous muscles but could not get a girl off for shit? Really wasn't that odd, considering.
Gretchen wasn't sure what she was considering, exactly, but she was sure it made things make more sense.
Because, okay, she was not gay. Neither of them were. They were just... close.
Okay, there was that time she and Regina had made out for like twenty minutes at the Halloween party freshman year? But that was totally because some of the boys were watching and they said it was really sexy.
Which it was. But, well, that was Regina. Everything she touched...
"You're staring."
Gretchen blinked. "What? No, I'm not."
Regina gestured. "At the poster. I told you, if they'd had two I would have gotten you one."
"Oh. Right. Um, yeah. Well, it's a really cool poster."
"I know, right?"
Of course she knew. Regina always knew. That was what happened when you were best friends. You could practically read each other's minds.
"Everything okay, Gretch?" Regina asked.
"Sure. Just distracted."
"Yeah, I can tell."
Of course she could. Regina could tell anything. Gretchen was pretty sure that if she decided to sleep on her right side instead of her left one night, Regina would know. And she'd probably know why, also. That was just how Regina worked.
Gretchen knew Regina's room almost as well as she knew her own. She'd probably slept here just as often, too.
Ever since third grade, there had been sleepovers. And after the whole Janis debacle, when Regina could only have one or two people over, Gretchen was almost always one of them.
It was always so great to be chosen. And to know, not just that you were chosen, but that there were other people who weren't chosen just so that you could be.
There were so many firsts in that room. Regina had the fine art of stealing her parents' porn down to a science. When they were ten, they'd looked at Playboys, examining the impossibly pert bodies like they were the Holy Grail. And at last, Regina had nodded, smiled, and said "That's going to be me in ten years."
It hadn't taken nearly that long.
Katie had been the first of them to get her period. But, well, of course she had; Katie was a total slut. When they were in fourth grade, she'd had to wear a bra, and Gretchen knew she'd let a guy take it off before she hit middle school. Katie went to a Catholic school in eighth grade, and by then they all understood about tampons and pads and how their hormones were cycling. But it was in Regina's room where she'd first seen anything outside of "Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret" and first understood that the whole "belt" thing was a story told to scare small children out of ever menstruating.
Gretchen had had her first kiss in this room, when Regina had her first boy/girl party- the first boy/girl party anyone their age had had- and they were playing Spin the Bottle and she'd gotten stuck with Bobby Fleming, and it had been sticky and gross and not at all fun. And then Regina had rolled her eyes, and said no, this was how you were supposed to kiss someone, and she had practically attacked Bobby with her tongue and all Gretchen remembered was that she couldn't stop watching that.
The school had given them condoms in health class, but Coach Carr been afraid to show them how to use them. So it was here that Regina, queen of all she surveyed, had given her own demonstration, not on a banana like Gretchen had expected- she'd found it was best to prepare herself for what Regina might do, so that she didn't look like a retard all the time- but on this realistic-looking thing. A vibrator. How did Regina have one of those? -No, Gretchen did not want to know.
"It's like- guys? Don't care," Regina said. "So you got to do it yourself. And then teach them. because god, Gretchen, you don't ever want to go out with a guy who doesn't try? But he'll try and then fail, and then he can leave, and you use this."
And then the time Regina explained how you, you know, and what you had to do, and god, Gretch, didn't you ever just...? No, of course she didn't; Gretchen was a good girl who even occasionally went to temple sometimes when her dad was feeling particularly guilty, and also for the High Holy Days if she couldn't play sick.
But this was Regina asking. "Sure," she'd said nervously. "Doesn't everyone?"
And then there had been Regina, and her, and she and Regina- somehow these were three separate entities, in her mind; the whole was not merely the sum of the parts, but this thing, this dynamo of Regina and her together, which was crazy in and of itself, but there it was- and "No, Gretch, put your finger- yeah, that's right, like that," until Gretchen knew exactly what to do because that was what best friends did, and she was going to be Regina's best friend if it killed her.
Especially since... well, it was fun. Not in a gay way or anything. Just... it was fun.
And Gretchen knew Regina, like really knew her. Better than Karen did or Katie had. Better than Shane Oman or Aaron Samuels. Better than Regina herself.
Because she had seen Regina, whimpering, calling out, arching like a kitten, wanting.
Because she could do this to Regina, could do things that no one else could do even if they wanted to, but no one else would dare try because this was Regina and who would dare attempt only to fail?
Because she and Regina were best friends. That was just the way things worked.