(Untitled)
Who: Debra Morgan and Derek Morgan
Where: Main Street
When: Day 41, Midnight
What: Welp, they've just been zapped back.
( Meet the Morgans )
Where: Main Street
When: Day 41, Midnight
What: Welp, they've just been zapped back.
( Meet the Morgans )
Apparently the sadistic son of a bitch was feeling charitable. Derek wasn't alone, raging with a surge of hormones, and neither was he naked. He was standing ...on a street somewhere, hand in hand with Debra, wearing a suit with a lei around his neck while What the hell? Deb was in a dress wearing a matching lei.
He wasn't sure if his eyes had adjusted correctly. It took him a second of staring before the corners of his mouth curled upward and he started laughing. Not that he'd ever tell her the obvious (he very much liked getting laid), but Deb was far from the curviest woman he had been with.
Still, as big of a tomboy as she tried coming across, Derek had learned over the past day and a half that she was all woman. Given the circumstances of whatever hell they were stuck in, being with a woman was nothing to frown at. Especially one as entertaining as Debra Morgan.
However, his laughter subsided at the last thing she swore at. He slipped his left hand from hers to find a matching band. Derek jerked his head back and furrowed his brow with confusion, immediately grabbing at the band and trying to pull off the ring. "What the fuck?" he muttered.
West seemed to have found new amusement. Apparently Deb had been wrong. The fantasy wasn't her cheating on a slob of a husband, she had been consummating her marriage with Derek. The ring didn't choke his finger but he couldn't slip the damn thing off. His brow arched and he looked back at ...his other half.
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However, there was more important things that needed to happen. For now she needed to get the ring from her finger. Well, the two rings; above the golden band there was also a rather large diamond ring. At least West wasn't a cheap bastard. Still, the size and shape of the ring reminded her of the one that Brian fucking Mosher had put on her finger so that he could kidnap her.
Angrily, her fingers gripped at the rings, and she jerked the metal bands, feeling that they were far warmer that she would have expected them to be. Clearly, the rings had fucking been there long enough for the gold to warm to her skin. God fucking damn it. Deb slid the finger far into her mouth, rolling it a bit in an effort to gather enough moisture that it would loosen the ring or that the additional leverage of her teeth would help with the removal.
It didn't work and Deb just fucking kicked a rock. "I am going to fucking remove West's vocal cords with my bare fucking hands!"
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He swallowed and shook his head, dismissing thoughts both spoken and unspoken. His eyes scanned the street they were on. He hadn't made a habit of walking out at night, especially after the camping stint. He couldn't readily recognize where the hell they were. His shoulders shrugged in an effort to rid himself of building tension.
"Where are we?" he asked, avoiding eye contact with Deb.
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Deep breaths, Morgan. Find the calm. Try not to think about the fact that she'd just been having hours and hours of amazing sex without a condom. Yeah. Fuck thinking about that. Fuck thinking about any of this. There was another tug of the ring on her finger, and she was already thinking interesting thoughts about soap and possibly a fucking wielding torch.
When he asked where they were, Deb looked around quickly. "Peaksville. We're in the fucking square like you would be when you find a fucking partner." A beat. "Not the same day, there's no fucking bats and the window that broke in the doctor's office has magically fixed itself. Any idea how the fuck long we've been gone?"
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A partner. Really. Somehow he managed to swallow the urge to inform her that she described the first time they had met. It was starting to feel like they were actually married. Derek wondered just what the hell West thought he was accomplishing with this latest stunt. Not that he had any understanding what the last was about.
"A day. Maybe. Never can tell around here." His gaze remained on the neighborhood and had yet to rest back on Debra. "Don't know what the point is to arrive here than back in the boarding house. Where to?" he asked with a scan of the rest of Peaksville that could be seen from where they stood.
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"Probably to fucking see how many fucking people he can get killed before they end up in the actual fucking game. Warnings about Anthony and fucking and all that fucking shit. And the god damn monkeys." There was that as well. God damn it, there was too much shit.
There was a quick flash of a nerdy grin. "Well, maybe they fucking forgot..." And then there were the stupid fucking pointed toe shoes (with the heels that had replaced her god damn boots, she better be getting those fucking things back) right between the chalky-tasting crimson of her lipstick and down her fucking throat.
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He warily continued to scan the street and his shoulders had risen slightly with tension. His hands remained in his pockets and he had yet to meet Debra's eyes since the initial glance. She had ceased bitching about the ring and acting as if it were cancer. The previous day or however long started to feel like a dream. This shit ALL feels like a dream.
There was some solace in that it had stopped feeling like a nightmare. Derek wasn't sure what West was up to with the rings and matching outfits. Maybe they weren't even meant to return to the boarding house. Were they really married? Did that mean what it meant back in the fifties? Hell, wasn't it illegal for blacks and whites to marry then in some places?
"You didn't answer my question. Where to?" he asked with eyes toward the boarding house.
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"Let's go back to the fucking boarding house, I'm sure we need to fucking tell people that we didn't fucking die." Or something else. Or whatever the fuck else. Deb took a deep breath, because despite the hair and the makeup and the dress and the fucking wedding rings she wanted to get back to the normal where they had been before there had been that much mindblowing fucking sex.
"Come on, hubby," she said in the teasing voice that she had used before. Well, the teasing voice with the additional roughness; Debra was trying. "Let's fucking see if someone rolled out the red fucking carpet to let us back." A step forward was taken, and Deb tottered a bit on the heels. "At least let's find my fucking boots."
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His head bobbed once in a single nod, acknowledging her choice. However, he pulled his warmed hands from his pockets and palmed her cheeks. "Aprons. Those had pockets. I might've watched a lot of I Love Lucy as a kid," he answered her mumbled question while toning down some of the blush on her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.
"The mom on Leave it to Beaver was also kinda hot. You could give June a run for her money," he flirted in an attempt to make her feel better. She did a three sixty from her panic attack but was obviously uncomfortable yet managed to tease him. "Go me." His hands dropped to her hips and he kissed her. "Just tryin' to tone down the lipstick," he lied at her lips, keeping his hands firm against her.
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When he palmed her cheeks, Deb smiled her surprised half-smile, the corner of her right lip quickly pulling upward as he rubbed off some of the blush. "Do I really look that much like fucking Bozo," he muttered in response to the red that was going to be over the pads of his thumbs.
There was a quick scoff when he said that she could give June a run for her money. "Yeah, if ya added a fucking push up bra and a tit job." But she appreciated the flirting and she appreciated the kiss, despite the fact that it was going to turn his entire face and her teeth crimson. She kissed him back quickly, and put her hands on his head, the finger with the ring wrapping around his neck so that she didn't need to look at (or think) about it.
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"Yours kept plenty busy over the past day and a half so take your complaints somewhere else. I'll trade a bigger size for half of what we did any day," he finally commented through a grin when she went on about her breasts.
His arms wrapped around her. The night was cool and the suit was a lot more layers than what she was left to wear. He kissed her again a little longer for his benefit as much as hers. "You gonna let me do this in the boarding house? Don't wanna cramp your style or anything," he teased at her mouth, knowing damn well there was now evidence of her all over his.
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The arms around her made her shiver, and drew her attention to the fact that she was from fucking Miami and was wearing tissue and now she was being embraced by a rather warm man. Somethings were nice. Quickly she leaned into his embrace and grinned at him again from around the enclosed movements of mouth and hip.
"Shouldn't ya be more worried about me cramping your style?" The question was asked quickly, and Deb grinned wolfishly at him when he teased her and her nails slipped over his neck, teasing him once more. "Jesus fucking Christ, ya'd think we'd be all fucking sexed out."
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Even as he licked his lips, the smile didn't leave his face. "Yeah, well...you know what they say about the ol' ball and chain," he shot back when she asked about cramping his style. Derek dipped in for a full kiss, humming appreciatively before pulling back.
He wasn't the raging sack of hormones that was ready to spring on her so there was merit to her words. "Mmm. This must be the honeymoon phase," he muttered at her lips and wrapped her snug in his arms. "Wait till we get to the boarding house and I carry you over the threshold."
Derek chuckled and pulled back, shrugging out of his jacket. He didn't ask or wait for Deb to accept it but draped it immediately over her then pulled off both leis and held them in one hand. Consciously the same hand that the wedding band was located on.
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"Don't even fucking think about it." Her words were said quickly and with a grin. "Do I see like I fucking need to be picked up and carried over the threshold of Mrs. Bitchy's House of Fictional Rejections? Hell no I don't. I can walk on my own two god damn legs, thanks." She was a modern girl.
Well, a modern freezing girl in a horrible dress, so she didn't protest too horribly when the jacket was wrapped around her skinny shoulders. The sleeves dragged over her hands, covering up her own wedding band. "Let's get the fuck inside, at least it'll be god damn warmer in there." Small pleasures.
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He was raised by a mother who worked hard to raise him and his two older sisters. The woman hardly ever took time to do anything for herself. Once they had grown, Derek and his sisters did more for their mother but they definitely didn't think of those things as kids. Fran Morgan was strong but she was still a woman. He couldn't help but extend that to Deb.
Derek looped an arm around her as they walked in an effort to steady her and speed up their arrival to the boarding house. Given the cool night, he could only hope she wouldn't protest that gesture as well. "You crashing with me or need a breather? I'm asking before we get there in case you wanna keep things quiet."
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Since before her mother had died, Deb had never really done the whole girly bullshit. A tomboy had been a nice thing to call her during her high school years, but a geeky lesbian had been lobbed at her more times that she could count.
If she hadn't been walking on such pointed fucking shoes, and so cold and if it hadn't been anyone else, she probably would have protested the arm over her shoulder, but for now she just leaned in and shook her head. "Nah, I kinda want my own bed. You hog all the fucking blankets."
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