Lace Wars (Faerie Style) Episode II
Title: Lace Wars (Faerie Style) - Episode II
Author: elebridith
Fandom: Kane RPS (Not A Firefly 'verse)
Pairing: Chris/Steve
Rating: PG13
Words: About 1600
A/N: Some time has passed since Chris and Steve discovered the two faeries living in their guitar case. Although Elphie speaks in tinkles, by now both Chris and Steve are able to understand her if she talks slowly - think how Luke Skywalker understands R2-D2. If it gets too complicated, Lomy still translates.
Episode Two - Attack Of the Jack Daniels
Christian stretched his back and yawned. This evening hadn't exactly gone as they planned it a few days ago - they'd wanted to do a movie night, snuggled up on the couch, having a some Jack, chasing it with beer... but then Steve had developed a nasty cold two days ago and was so drowsy from the antibiotics that he had dozed off a few minutes into the movie. Chris had executed the "Jack and beer" part of the plan on his own, with Steve half asleep next to him, only occasionally opening his eyes and taking a sip of soda. But to Chris' delight Steve had felt better after a few hours, and the last part of the movie night was skipped in favor of trading lazy kisses and soft touches.
Chris hadn't exactly counted the number of swigs he'd taken from the Jack bottle. He felt pleasantly tipsy now, only a little tired and was more than willing to transfer making-out with Steve to a more comfortable place than the couch - preferably the bedroom. He set down the now almost empty bottle of Jack and gave Steve a mischievous grin combined with a suggestive waggling of eyebrows. Steve smirked slowly, cupped his neck and pulled him closer for a hungry kiss.
"Excellent idea, Christian," he murmured and leaned back again.
Chris grinned widely. "Knnnew you'd approve 'f it."
Steve's eyebrows shot up at the slurrier-than-usual tone of Chris' voice. "My my, Chris, you're more drunk than I thought. That sounds so deep south that it almost reaches the pole. You sure you're up to... performing tonight?"
Chris threw him an indignant look and tried to stand up. "'M... up for anything ya throw at me, Carlson. 'M..." His words trailed off as the floor beneath him suddenly decided that it always wanted to be a wall instead and tilted upwards under his feet. Chris lost his balance and fell back on couch, arms flailing. "Whoooops." He looked at Steve, almost pouting, and he sounded deeply hurt. "Why'dya push me?"
Steve's jaw dropped. "Push you? I wasn't even touching you!" He started to laugh. "Chris, I hate to say it, but you're completely wasted. Jeez, how much Jack did you have?"
Christian frowned as he tried to remember. "Not that much..." He looked around and tried to focus his vision. Sheesh. Can't be that drunk, can I? Whoa. And since when do we have a spinning sofa? His gaze fell on the bottles on the floor. Beer bottles... one... two. An' that's the Jack one. What's that... His eyes narrowed in confusion. He was almost sure that he had seen a light-green shadow around the bottle, but when he blinked again it was gone. Huh. Maybe a reflection from the TV. He shrugged inwardly and made an effort to scan the surrounding area which was empty. His face lit up.
"See?" He pointed excitedly to the bottles. "Not drunk. Two beers, just one bottle 'f Jack. An'..." He picked up the bottle to check its content and made a triumphant sound at the discovery that it was still about three-quarters full. "'S not even empty. An'..." He searched his memory and then actually beamed. "Ne'er got up to get 'nother one. Always been here 'cept that onnne time I got up t'piss." Judging by the blank look Steve gave him, his slur of speech must have been worse than he thought. He articulated the words again, slower this time, and had the satisfaction of seeing Steve nodding in understanding. Hah. See? Not drunk here. Can still speak clearly. No problem. He felt almost affronted as Steve shook his head.
"No way, Christian. Can't be the only one. I may have been out of it for most of the time, but every time I opened my eyes, you've been sucking at that bottle. And this one is only down by..." He took a closer look. "Maybe three shots. There must be a second one. And..." He stood up and held out his hand, voice firm now. "If you don't even remember taking the empty one to the trash, then you're really wasted. To bed. Now. And I mean sleeping."
"What??" The word was almost but not quite a squeak. Chris couldn't even say what was worse - Steve denying him sex just like that, just because he was maybe, just maybe a little drunk, or the implication that he was drunk enough to forget getting rid of empty bottles. He snorted in disdain. Really. He managed to stand up, but that goddamn floor decided this time that it had a hiccups or something and threw him off balance again. Since he ended up tumbling into Steve's open arms he didn't mind as much this time. He gave him a wide delighted grin and protested only a little as Steve dragged him unceremoniously out of the living room, up the stairs and pushed him onto the bed. The protests got a little louder as it was evident that Steve had been serious about the "no sex" thing. Christian felt him pulling the blanket around him and when the fuck did Steve manage to undress him? And why was he just kissing him on the forehead and ... not...
Steve looked down fondly and a little amused at Chris' sleeping form. He hadn't minded Chris drinking even though he'd stuck to soda. Just didn't think he'd overdo it like this... He tiptoed backwards out of the bedroom and went down to the living room again. Gotta clean up a little and then I'll go to sleep too.
He picked up the empty beer bottles, put the bottle of Jack on the coffee table and stashed the used glasses in the dishwasher. He hesitated a moment and then opened the trashcan. And did a double take. Huh? Now that's... He blinked, tilted his head and shook the can a bit, but it remained empty save a few torn candy wrappers. He scratched his head. Maybe he shoved it under the couch.
He returned to the living room, dropped on his knees and looked under the couch, even felt around a bit, but only came up with a few dust bunnies. He straightened again and sat down heavily, frowning and shaking his head. He bit his lower lip. That's... weird. And, funny thing is, I really don't remember him getting up to get a new one. He went to the coffee table again, picked up the Jack bottle and almost dropped it in surprise. It's... full. But... but it wasn't, just a few minutes ago! And where the fuck did Chris' drinks come from? Hm...
An idea went through his head. He stood up and carefully opened the door to the music room. A happy grin broke over his face at the sight of two tiny figures. One blue, currently juggling what looked like small pieces of broken guitar pics, and one purple, sitting on the guitar case, watching the juggling and clapping her tiny hands in delighted applause. Once they caught sight of Steve, the blue one graciously caught all the pieces with one hand and waved. The purple one stood up and did a curtsy, then made a tinklegiggling sound and waved too. Steve laughed and waved back.
The blue one tilted his head and looked curious. "Good evening. You look like something is worrying you. Is Mister Christian all right?" The purple one immediately made a chiming noise that definitely sounded worried, and Steve hastily shook his head and smiled reassuringly.
"Good evening, Lomy, Elphie. No... no, nothing's wrong, just... listen, you two, you don't have by any chance the ability to refill whiskey bottles, have you?"
Lomy looked surprised. "No, we don't. Why?" He fluttered up and landed on the guitar case next to Elphie. Both faeries looked questioningly at Steve.
Steve sighed. "Just an idea. Sounds crazy, but... I think our Jack Daniels bottle just refilled itself." He gave a short incredulous laugh. "I know how that sounds. But I swear the bottle must have been almost empty when Chris put it down, and when I picked it up again two minutes ago it was full. And no one replaced it. And before you ask, I'm completely sober."
Lomy snorted and grinned. "I know. I would be able to smell it if you weren't." He looked serious now. "I... know that there are faeries who can... Elphie?" He turned to his companion who shrugged and chimed off a melodious line, too fast for Steve to catch the meaning. Lomy turned back. "She says that there are faeries who can do that, but we have never seen them around here. But we will ask around, if you like."
Steve slowly nodded in agreement. He'd given up trying to find anything 'weird' when it came to the faeries a long time ago, so the idea of one that could refill bottles one was not that far off. Given that we have one that can repair guitar strings... He chuckled and nodded. "That would be good, yes. Thank you." Lomy gave him a formal bow. Steve waved them good night and left the room. He stood still for a moment, rubbing his eyes. Right. And how weird is it that there's nothing weird with a conversation with faeries at all?
He chuckled again and then decided that it really was late enough for today. He went up to the bedroom, quietly undressed and slid under the blanket next to Christian, who only mumbled something unintelligible and snuggled closer without waking up. Steve made an amused snort and closed his eyes. Wait 'til you hear the whole story. Bottle-refilling faeries. Now that's gonna be fun.