Why, yes! Another post!!
Title: Life and Times at La Casa de Teresa
Authors: Drkhearted & Twilight_Rain
Rating: PG for mention of alcohol and an angry Teresa
Notes: Teresa and I stayed up late (on a school night, GASP!) to write this. We had a lot of fun writing it, so we hope you guys have a lot of fun reading it.
Frank sat, slumped against the wall opposite the bathroom door, which glared at him in a "HAHA, you cannot get in!" manner. A bag filled with bathroom necessities in hand and wrapped in a silk robe, Frank preceded the kick the door.
"I do have a job, you know! I have patients who would KILL themselves if I was late for an appointment!! Hurry it up!" Frank shouted.
Teresa groaned and turned off the shower tap, cursing every god that she could think of for shortening her shower. "It's not like they're not dead already!" she called out, angrily stepping onto the bathmat and snatching a towel off the rack.
Frank sighed, glancing at the clock. He only had twenty minutes to get ready and be at work. He cursed every god he could think of for shortening his shower time. The door slammed open, shocking Frank into a near heart attack. A disgruntled Teresa glared down at him, dripping wet.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she demanded, stalking out and down the short hallway to her bedroom, wearing only a towel, angrily drying her hair with a separate towel. "Quit your pathetic sighing and get in there or you're going to be late," she called after her, slamming the bedroom door shut.
Frank hastily got up and set up in the bathroom. He locked the door, the first time he had to do that in a long time. He turned his attention away from this realization to literally jump into the shower. He jumped from the sudden blast from the cold water. After all these years in Hell, he still wasn't used to the lack of hot water. He sighed and began to shampoo his hair.
*****
Teresa wearily opened the door and stumbled into her little apartment. Late night gigs were always a pain in the ass, and tonight's was no exception. She wanted nothing more than to kick back with a book and a mug of tea and fall asleep. She stumbled past Frank in the living room on the way to the kitchen, and mumbled a brief, "G'night."
Frank was vigorously dusting the bookcase and took little notice, but did manage in a "goodnight!"
Leaving a mug of tea steeping in the kitchen, Teresa went to change into pajamas before making her way back to the kitchen. She went back to her room and placed the mug on the bedside table, before going back to the living room to get her book, where she'd left it on the coffee table. Suspiciously right where Frank's case files were sitting in a nice, neat stack, and the book nowhere in sight.
"... Where the hell did you put my book?" she snarled, not really in the mood for tearing apart her whole apartment to find it.
"Who is the author?" Frank said, taking the time to admire the now dusted and alphabetized-by-author bookcase
"Juliet...Mm-Mar-Mer... God damn it, I left it right here, where did it go?" she all but yelled, her patience tried. Books were supposed to stay where she left them, not get up and put themselves away.
Frank scanned the bookcase under the "M" section. He found one book by a woman named Juliet. He tossed it Teresa's way. "Here you go." He smiled, oblivious to the fact he had somehow committed a heinous crime in the eyes of Teresa.
"DO NOT THROW MY BOOKS," she breathed, catching the book and trying to stay calm. "And do not touch the piles I leave around. I won't put anything on the table again, but if you go anywhere near my music, you're losing something important, am I clear?" She glared at his happiness in order, and hoped that he had not already organized that as well.
*****
"Pero señor, necesito la tequila anoche. Yo tengo una barra y..." his voice trailed off as he realized the call was lost, or the Mexican on the other end hung up on him. He hated working with them, but they sold their stuff cheap. And Frank liked cheap. That's when he heard the refrigerator door slam in the kitchen.
"Alright, where is it?!" Teresa yelled, pointing a finger at Frank. "I know that we had some Tuesday, where did it go?" Frank looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "The ice cream! What happened to the carton of ice cream we had in the refrigerator?!" she demanded, almost frantically. She really, really needed that sugar rush now.
"Oh," Frank casually drawled on, "I finished that off last night while I was watching 'Volver.' I was planning on getting some more, but I had to make a call..." Frank noticed the increasing anger in Teresa's face, and the fact that the veins in her temples looked as if they were about to pop. Frank slowly backed away to the front door. "I shall go get some then..."
*****
Teresa sat curled on the sofa with a soda in her hand, feeling generally morose. No one had bothered to talk to her at work for a few days, so she'd just been stuck at the piano, Frank had been busy with work and when he wasn't working it seemed like they would always be fighting, and she'd had surprisingly not much to do during the days except think, which was never good. To top it all off, it was raining, and more heavily than the occasional drizzle, but pouring. It wasn't that she was sad really, she just wasn't feeling terribly happy with unlife or whatever it was that she was supposed to be living.
Frank trudged in from the rain, surprisingly wet despite being equipped with an umbrella. He shook himself down, placing the umbrella and coat in the appropriate places. He toed off his shoes and loosened his tie before plopping on the couch next to Teresa.
Frank looked over, and with his keen psychologist-skills, noticed she was looking rather down. He bit his lip in a half-guilty manner, knowing that it was perhaps him that has been the cause of all the trouble. He had dealt with depressed patients before, but now that it was one of his friends, he seemed at a loss. He attacked the problem in the same manner, and hoped it would end up okay.
"So," he hesitantly said, "What's the matter?"
Teresa finished the last remains of her soda glass, before putting it on the coffee table (on a coaster!). She turned to look at Frank for a moment, weighing her options, before shifting closer to him and leaning against him slightly.
"You are so full of crap sometimes," she said softly, only half meaning it.
Frank got more comfortable, nestling into the Teresa who was now leaning closer. "Well, the important part is that I try. And thank you for using the coaster."
Teresa didn't usually do this whole physical contact thing, but there were some times, like this moment, when she needed to know that at least someone was there for her, in some way. "I'm trying too," she said, shutting her eyes. She didn't really like that she was in one of her weaker moments, but this made her feel better, so she tried to stop caring. "Frank?" she asked, staying exactly where she was.
Frank grabbed the blanket from nearby and took the liberty of tossing it over both of them. "Yes?"
"Thank you for, well..." she trailed off, unable find the words to express what she was trying to say.”This, I guess. Living with me and putting up with me, and...This." She flushed, feeling rather corny about the whole situation and the fact that just sitting on the couch with a friend could help as much as it did.
Frank didn't know what to say, and he wasn't sure there was anything he could possibly say that would effectively portray what he really felt. Instead, he wrapped an arm around Teresa and said the only think he could thing of: "You're welcome."
Teresa lifted her head to look at Frank's arm around her, feeling a bit awkward but letting out a sigh and feeling like a little weight had been lifted off of her soul, for a while at least. She was feeling warm and comfortable where she was, and that was all that really mattered. "You sap," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder and shutting her eyes.
Authors: Drkhearted & Twilight_Rain
Rating: PG for mention of alcohol and an angry Teresa
Notes: Teresa and I stayed up late (on a school night, GASP!) to write this. We had a lot of fun writing it, so we hope you guys have a lot of fun reading it.
Frank sat, slumped against the wall opposite the bathroom door, which glared at him in a "HAHA, you cannot get in!" manner. A bag filled with bathroom necessities in hand and wrapped in a silk robe, Frank preceded the kick the door.
"I do have a job, you know! I have patients who would KILL themselves if I was late for an appointment!! Hurry it up!" Frank shouted.
Teresa groaned and turned off the shower tap, cursing every god that she could think of for shortening her shower. "It's not like they're not dead already!" she called out, angrily stepping onto the bathmat and snatching a towel off the rack.
Frank sighed, glancing at the clock. He only had twenty minutes to get ready and be at work. He cursed every god he could think of for shortening his shower time. The door slammed open, shocking Frank into a near heart attack. A disgruntled Teresa glared down at him, dripping wet.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she demanded, stalking out and down the short hallway to her bedroom, wearing only a towel, angrily drying her hair with a separate towel. "Quit your pathetic sighing and get in there or you're going to be late," she called after her, slamming the bedroom door shut.
Frank hastily got up and set up in the bathroom. He locked the door, the first time he had to do that in a long time. He turned his attention away from this realization to literally jump into the shower. He jumped from the sudden blast from the cold water. After all these years in Hell, he still wasn't used to the lack of hot water. He sighed and began to shampoo his hair.
*****
Teresa wearily opened the door and stumbled into her little apartment. Late night gigs were always a pain in the ass, and tonight's was no exception. She wanted nothing more than to kick back with a book and a mug of tea and fall asleep. She stumbled past Frank in the living room on the way to the kitchen, and mumbled a brief, "G'night."
Frank was vigorously dusting the bookcase and took little notice, but did manage in a "goodnight!"
Leaving a mug of tea steeping in the kitchen, Teresa went to change into pajamas before making her way back to the kitchen. She went back to her room and placed the mug on the bedside table, before going back to the living room to get her book, where she'd left it on the coffee table. Suspiciously right where Frank's case files were sitting in a nice, neat stack, and the book nowhere in sight.
"... Where the hell did you put my book?" she snarled, not really in the mood for tearing apart her whole apartment to find it.
"Who is the author?" Frank said, taking the time to admire the now dusted and alphabetized-by-author bookcase
"Juliet...Mm-Mar-Mer... God damn it, I left it right here, where did it go?" she all but yelled, her patience tried. Books were supposed to stay where she left them, not get up and put themselves away.
Frank scanned the bookcase under the "M" section. He found one book by a woman named Juliet. He tossed it Teresa's way. "Here you go." He smiled, oblivious to the fact he had somehow committed a heinous crime in the eyes of Teresa.
"DO NOT THROW MY BOOKS," she breathed, catching the book and trying to stay calm. "And do not touch the piles I leave around. I won't put anything on the table again, but if you go anywhere near my music, you're losing something important, am I clear?" She glared at his happiness in order, and hoped that he had not already organized that as well.
*****
"Pero señor, necesito la tequila anoche. Yo tengo una barra y..." his voice trailed off as he realized the call was lost, or the Mexican on the other end hung up on him. He hated working with them, but they sold their stuff cheap. And Frank liked cheap. That's when he heard the refrigerator door slam in the kitchen.
"Alright, where is it?!" Teresa yelled, pointing a finger at Frank. "I know that we had some Tuesday, where did it go?" Frank looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "The ice cream! What happened to the carton of ice cream we had in the refrigerator?!" she demanded, almost frantically. She really, really needed that sugar rush now.
"Oh," Frank casually drawled on, "I finished that off last night while I was watching 'Volver.' I was planning on getting some more, but I had to make a call..." Frank noticed the increasing anger in Teresa's face, and the fact that the veins in her temples looked as if they were about to pop. Frank slowly backed away to the front door. "I shall go get some then..."
*****
Teresa sat curled on the sofa with a soda in her hand, feeling generally morose. No one had bothered to talk to her at work for a few days, so she'd just been stuck at the piano, Frank had been busy with work and when he wasn't working it seemed like they would always be fighting, and she'd had surprisingly not much to do during the days except think, which was never good. To top it all off, it was raining, and more heavily than the occasional drizzle, but pouring. It wasn't that she was sad really, she just wasn't feeling terribly happy with unlife or whatever it was that she was supposed to be living.
Frank trudged in from the rain, surprisingly wet despite being equipped with an umbrella. He shook himself down, placing the umbrella and coat in the appropriate places. He toed off his shoes and loosened his tie before plopping on the couch next to Teresa.
Frank looked over, and with his keen psychologist-skills, noticed she was looking rather down. He bit his lip in a half-guilty manner, knowing that it was perhaps him that has been the cause of all the trouble. He had dealt with depressed patients before, but now that it was one of his friends, he seemed at a loss. He attacked the problem in the same manner, and hoped it would end up okay.
"So," he hesitantly said, "What's the matter?"
Teresa finished the last remains of her soda glass, before putting it on the coffee table (on a coaster!). She turned to look at Frank for a moment, weighing her options, before shifting closer to him and leaning against him slightly.
"You are so full of crap sometimes," she said softly, only half meaning it.
Frank got more comfortable, nestling into the Teresa who was now leaning closer. "Well, the important part is that I try. And thank you for using the coaster."
Teresa didn't usually do this whole physical contact thing, but there were some times, like this moment, when she needed to know that at least someone was there for her, in some way. "I'm trying too," she said, shutting her eyes. She didn't really like that she was in one of her weaker moments, but this made her feel better, so she tried to stop caring. "Frank?" she asked, staying exactly where she was.
Frank grabbed the blanket from nearby and took the liberty of tossing it over both of them. "Yes?"
"Thank you for, well..." she trailed off, unable find the words to express what she was trying to say.”This, I guess. Living with me and putting up with me, and...This." She flushed, feeling rather corny about the whole situation and the fact that just sitting on the couch with a friend could help as much as it did.
Frank didn't know what to say, and he wasn't sure there was anything he could possibly say that would effectively portray what he really felt. Instead, he wrapped an arm around Teresa and said the only think he could thing of: "You're welcome."
Teresa lifted her head to look at Frank's arm around her, feeling a bit awkward but letting out a sigh and feeling like a little weight had been lifted off of her soul, for a while at least. She was feeling warm and comfortable where she was, and that was all that really mattered. "You sap," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder and shutting her eyes.