Life, Later (6/?)
Title: Life, Later (6/?)
Pairing: Pepa/Silvia (LHDP)
Rating: PG-13 for now (it’ll maybe get racier down the line)
Spoilers: Yup, if you haven’t seen the earlier pre-Pepa episodes (season 3). So basically, this will be a kind of half-AU.
A/N: Read, enjoy & comment! :-)
6.
Well, overall this wasn’t such a bad week. Not much work, the hormones are not that bad, not driving me crazy yet, not making me drive others that crazy either, haven’t had really fruitful homicidal tendencies, though Pepa does seem to have the talent to wake them up in me at any given moment of the day - and then I either want to hug her to death like the stuffed, tall frustrating teddy bear that she is or tease her and taunt her to death because she just riles me up like no one can. I must admit sometimes all is not entirely her fault, she just drags others with her or to her. Like Curtis. She and her damn, sexy, animal magnetism! He’s following her around the precinct like a lost, fluffy mongrel puppy… and we keep bumping into each other… because I do the same - following her around the precinct. I wonder how I can explain that one away to me and others. To me it’s easy - I’m just showing her around the block so to say, helping her integrate and find her place, being a true friend, yes, Silvia, that’s exactly what you’re doing! But others wouldn’t be so charitable about it and would probably interpret my natural interest in her wellbeing as something more… thank god for clueless guys and for mentally quick Lola not being a cop as the rest of the family. Whew! Anyway, it’s like Pepa’s the sun these days and has two planets orbiting around her: a redheaded one and a hairy one. Curtis! And she? She’s clueless, of course. She’s such a guy sometimes. Of course, her radar detects any interest from the female species, whether it’s flirty witnesses or flirty criminals she has to frisk down. Last week I almost broke her hands slapping them away from the body of a lusty, almost moaning she-demon-whore that we brought in for suspicion of paying with fake checks. If she’d use her saggy body to pay for services [as I’m sure she probably does, even though she denied it repeatedly and was really affronted and got pissed off when I subtly suggested it during the interrogation], she wouldn’t have been in this situation… or she would’ve. Whore-bitch! I now have the sneaking suspicion she’ll go out and steal purses from old ladies all around San Antonio so that she can be brought in again in the hope of being frisked down by Pepa. That’s the effect she has on people, male and female. Though to her credit, I must say guys don’t even register for her, they’re just moving objects around her that bump into her, get flustered and stutter their way into and out of short conversations with her. But of course her obvious disinterest doesn’t deter clueless dudes like Montoya and Curtis. Comically tragic Curtis who showed up yesterday evening in my lab to ask me to give him pointers to conquer Pepa. I almost chocked on my tongue when he started muttering about his penis and how he takes that thing out every time on the first date, and should he or shouldn’t he, and that the thing might scare her if it came out so soon… hell yeah, it’d scare her into hacking it off, if I’m not there to do it first! Anormal de carrito! What must’ve happened at one time with this guy’s brain that all his gray matter died on him so that he’d actually conceive of coming to ME, his commissioner’s daughter, his superior officer and the-to-be-conquered-woman’s best friend and sister-in-law and talk to me about his hairy penis and whether he should or should not unveil it to Pepa as soon as possible??? I don’t have my father’s propensity to swear eloquently at the drop of a hat, but damn, was I my father’s daughter once I got a hold of myself. I’m sure you could hear my profanities from the corner of the street, that two-laned street with the small house with cute, red shutters on the other block, and boy, was he lucky I had already locked up my surgical paraphernalia for the day or he’d be looking for a new job as the singing eunuch in the choir of an obscure Catholic parish somewhere in the country, a country like Zimbabwe.
Not a bad week at all, this week. Got two oblique marriage proposals to boot. First from Montoya who came into my lab and told me he wanted to do the proper thing and marry the mother of his child. That hit my funny bone, though he was so sincere in his proposal. I laughed my head off first and then at his stricken look tried to explain my jolliness.
“Gonzalo, lo siento, lo siento. It’s just that it’s kinda funny you want me to take you back after Ruth dumped you for that old dirtbag from the Interpol - can you spell casting couch for career-whores?” Snort. “And yes, though it would make the most sense for the parents of a child to be together to raise the child they created - no way in hell. Not over my dead body, not over your dead body, not over anybody’s dead body, not over all the dead, disintegrating, stinking bodies in the world!” Guffaw. “We were never meant for each other. We just don’t mix, you and I. I’ll never regret us because it will have given me this child, but Gonzalo, we owe it to both ourselves and our baby to find the one we’re truly meant to be with and be happy, and thus be able to teach happiness to our child.” His misty eyes looked down at me desolate but in understanding and we hugged - and that’s when my Pepa-sense woke up and I knew she must be close by, and she was - staring daggers at us through the window.
The sweet, rambly Pepa proposal followed. I had half a mind… and heart and aroused body to just scream YES when she actually blurted out in confusion ‘Marry me.’ But that would’ve made me a bad Silvia… a very satisfied, probably in so many delicious ways satisfied Silvia, but a bad one nonetheless. What does that say about me? If Lola could see us together for just 5 minutes, she’d ask me point blank if I wanted to do the dirty with Pepa, it’s so obvious!... well, she’d phrase it more elegantly like ‘Do you think you might be flirting with Pepa?’ Does me being coy and teasing, always full of innuendoes when around Pepa mean I’m flirting with her? Does me imagining her without her vest… and other articles of clothing while we are talking, mean I’m a doctor always interested in the symmetry of the human body and investigating it or that I’m a perv who wants to ogle her sister-in-law’s luscious body? Hmm, tough question to answer. Though I’m afraid the truth does reside in me, I just have to find it. I just have to shove away all those confusing fantasies of our two sweaty bodies sliding together, straining against each other, gasping in each other mouths against walls, on tables in interrogation rooms or any other given surfaces, and find the truth. Or maybe I’m going about it the wrong way… and that is my truth…
Fine, Silvia! Just great! You’re meeting her for the girls’ night out in a couple of hours and now you got yourself all horny - over her!
Though, to think of it, I don’t know how much of a girls’ night out it will be as all the girls seem to be jumping ship. Sara called me not long ago saying she had to cancel, when I asked why she got all giggly and shy, telling me something about that boy finally getting the guts to ask her out. When I asked what boy, she said it was Ramon. Ramon? Ramon, the 15 year old son of her neighbours’ across the hall? I asked if he wasn’t too young for her. She’s 22!
“Nooo, tita.” Giggle. “And you know I like them young. The guys at my age are so career-driven, forgetting all about the fun that can be had.” Huh? What fun can you have with a 15 year old?! Hanging out with him and his equally pimply faced buddies behind the junior high-school smoking menthol cigarettes they’ve pilfered from their mothers’ purses?! “And older guys. Ugh! They are just creepy. Imagine me with a 28 or even a 32 year old. Yikes! Young girls who lust after older guys are just sooo sick, and they don’t know what they lose by not giving a chance to the younger, hip ones.” Oooooookay! I just hope Sara doesn’t turn into one of those older women holding court in her salon surrounded by teenaged boys fawning over her. And her father was always worried she was under some older gentleman’s spell when she would go around sneaking out at night, while she was just out at some park playing in the sandbox with her crushes.
And Rita, too, wheezed by me 10 minutes ago on her way out the door, saying she had to go home and ‘breastfeed’, then she corrected herself and said ‘feed’, while blushing profusely, her Joselu, and that it would take her some time and she was sorry she couldn’t come with us tonight. Huh???? I think that by the time all will be said and done, like me, hopefully in the near future, having hot, monkey sex with Pepa on my father’s chair in the commissioner’s office, for example, will turn out to be tame compared to the proclivities of my fellow colleagues.
Now I’m half fearing and half anticipating my sister calling telling me she and Paco have a hot date with themselves and some Jamon Iberico and a spicy bottle of foreign mustard on the preparation island in the back of El Cachis, and that will leave just Pepa and I.
Pepa y yo, solas…
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