Date: February 9, 2005
Characters: Rita Skeeter, Irma Pince
Location: Hillview
Status: Private
Summary: Rita and Irma have a 'girls night in' and watch some muggle films on the box thingy. All of Rita's selection have significant sapphic undertones (how uncanny, I had no idea)
Completion: Complete
(
Rita hopes it might turn into a 'sleepover' )
Comments 34
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Merlin on a bicycle, had Irma walked? She looked flushed and breathless and damn, how could she not know that she looked perfectly decadent like that?
Rita smiled. "Evening, Irma; come in." She pulled the door open all the way and stepped aside to let the other woman past. "How are you?"
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She began to unbutton her brown coat as the other woman talked. When it finally was off, she took it on an arm. "Erm, you wouldn't happen to have some place I can put this?"
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She moved forward and took Irma's coat from her, hung it on a rack of hooks on the wall beside the mirror. She hadn't even put it there, the mirror. It seemed her muggles had been every bit as vain as she was.
"Straight from work? They must be keeping you occupied. Would you like a drink? Something to eat as well, maybe, if you've been at work all day. I'm sure I have something in here that isn't pathetically single-woman-who-prefers-pubs." She chuckled, leading Irma toward the kitchen.
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She took a sip of her drink. "We all come into this world with our little egos equipped with individual horns. If we don't blow them, who else will?" she quoted. "Certain aspects of the film were familiar."
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"Definitely," she replied, leaning her head back against the lounge. "I think anything that captures humanity in any sort of real way will be familiar. I was... I don't know. Young, when I saw it. Nine or ten, maybe. Interesting what you remember and what you forget. All those glamorous, beautiful women. I wanted to be them." She looked at Irma again.
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Surely she hadn't grown up wanting to be a librarian. Not that there was anything wrong with that - Rita had quite a respect for it - but she couldn't image it having been someones childhood dream.
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Rita wanted her? She frowned. Rita wanted her? Irma Pince? She bit her lower lip, and pulled slightly back ( ... )
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Fuck. Fuck and Merlin and jesuschristfuck, she'd gone too fast after all.
Direct and to the point will usually get you what you want, rather than beating around the bush. She heard Irma's voice in her head, and snorted. Liar.
Well, Irma certainly couldn't say she hadn't been warned now. Rita just hoped she hadn't scared her off completely.
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