Fic: Pulling (1/2)
I'm posting an unfinished story because I fear I might not actually finish it if I leave this chunk alone on my hard drive too long. I sincerely hope everybody doesn't keep quiet until the ficathon posting date -- we need more stories here, people! I for one am in withdrawal. Maybe this'll spur someone else to post a fic, if only to show me up with a better one. :)
Title: Pulling (1/2)
Rating: PG
Notes: Part of my ongoing series. Takes place during "Estate Agents", which sets it before the other parts of the series (so reading the other parts first is not required).
"God."
"What?"
"For a minute there I thought that was my old geography teacher."
Scribbs laughed. She was driving and Ash was studying Phil Jakes's corkboard of conquests as best should could in the intermittent light of streetlamps.
"Did you see Anita's board?" Scribbs asked a moment later. "She had more men than most of the straight women I know put together."
Ash shook her head. "You know, sometimes I feel like the only human being over 30 whose list of past shags isn't thick as a telephone directory."
Scribbs gave a perturbed sideways glance. "Hey!"
"Come on, your board could probably rival Phil's here."
"There's got to be over a hundred photos there, Ash!"
Smothering a smirk, Ash let silence speak louder than words. She was only joking but it made her wonder just how many pictures would be on Scribbs's board if she were in the habit of pinning them up like their latest victim and his colleague. Surely not a hundred, but definitely far more than I'd have, she thought.
"This whole idea of competing for the highest number," she said. "It's so... sordid."
"Keeping the condom industry in profits, though. At least, I hope."
"That's just it. Pregnancy, HIV... At least when lesbians sleep around there's far less at stake."
Scribbs murmured acknowledgement. Ash tilted the corkboard to try to counteract the glare of the streetlamps, but it was starting to hurt her eyes. She let the board fall to her lap.
"D'you know, Scribbs, I've never had a one night stand."
That drew another glance from her partner. "No? Well, that's a good thing, according to you, right?"
"I don't know," Ash mused. "I mean, it's not like I've never considered it. Or had the opportunity. Remember, that woman at Jane's party, the one who gave me a lift home and wanted to spend the night?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"But I've never, you know, gone out looking for it." She gazed out the window, watching postboxes and fire hydrants go by. "I'm not even exactly sure how you go about..."
"What, pulling?" Scribbs looked over with raised eyebrows.
"Right. If one did want to... you know... just for sex... how would one...?"
The conversation finally had Scribbs's attention, and she seemed hard pressed to keep her eyes on the road. "Boy, this thing with your neighbour's really got you frustrated, hasn't it?"
There's that, and there's... other factors, Ash thought. It's my neighbour's noisy sex life that keeps me awake at night, but it's not her I think of while I'm lying there.
"Are you going to help me or not?" she asked.
"Help you?"
Too late, Ash realized how her question could have been interpreted, and hurried to clarify. "Teach me how to pull."
**********
The phone rang as Scribbs was brushing her hair. She went into the bedroom to answer.
"Hello?"
"Hi, it's Robin. What you up to?"
"Just getting ready to go out, actually."
"What? God, turn that down, will you? What is that?"
Hastily, Scribbs twisted the stereo's volume knob halfway back to zero. "Sorry. Nine Inch Nails. Better?"
"Yeah -- what did you say?"
"I'm getting ready to go out."
"Yeah? I was going to ask if you wanted to come round for a drink."
"Can't. Ash is due here in 20." She carried the phone back into the bathroom, where the counter was littered with a wide array of beauty products.
"Oh?"
"We're going to Tuscon."
"Ohhhhh."
"Don't get excited," Scribbs warned her friend, trapping the phone between her shoulder and ear so she could have both hands free to do her makeup.
"What, it's for a case?"
"No. More like... a project."
"What kind of project?"
Scribbs took a steadying breath. "Ash has asked me to show her how to have a one-night stand."
There was silence on the line. Her friend was obviously not sure how to respond.
"With someone else," Scribbs added helpfully.
"Well," Robin said. "That explains the grumps."
"She's decided that she's come to a point in her life when she's willing to give casual sex a try."
"And you didn't offer to help her out with that more directly?"
Scribbs grimaced. "Oh no, she wants a total stranger. Someone she's never going to see again."
"Hmmm. Do you think that means she's a crap shag?"
"Robin."
"Sorry, sorry," Robin said quickly, but she was snickering.
"Anyway, I've got too many notches on my bedpost for her liking," Scribbs said, yanking the cap off a mascara brush. "A stranger she can at least pretend has a spotless record."
"Jesus, Scribbs, you make yourself sound like the Whore of Babylon."
"I may as well be, in Ash's eyes. Why d'you think she asked me to do this?" She leaned in close to the mirror. "To benefit from the wealth of my experience. Who better to turn to for advice on sleeping around than the expert?"
"Did she really say that?"
"Not those exact words, no. Ow!"
"What?"
Scribbs sent the mascara back into the pile of makeup with a vicious flick of her wrist. "Bloody poked myself in the eye."
"Careful, eh? Hey, what are you wearing?"
Blinking rapidly, she glanced down at her robe. "I haven't decided yet."
"Oh? Does that mean you're--"
"I'm hanging up now," Scribbs interrupted. She was in no mood for their usual banter.
"No, don't! I promise I'll be good. Honest."
The words were sincere, even though there was laughter behind them, and Robin probably knew Scribbs's threat was an empty one anyway. Besides, the blonde was glad the subject of clothes had been brought up.
"What d'you think I should wear? I mean, what's the appropriate outfit for pimping out your partner in a yuppie bar?"
"It's not pimping if you're not getting anything out of it. Why'd you pick Tuscon, anyway? That place is so pretentious."
"It's the classiest place I could think of where there was any chance of there being lesbians about. This is Ash we're talking about. She may have suddenly become a seething heap of hormones but she's still got standards."
"Does she really think you're a slut?" Robin asked dubiously.
"Yes. No. I don't know." Scribbs gave up trying to do her face while she was distracted. She turned her back to the mirror and leaned against the counter. "Not like a really bad one. I think it's all down to how we met. Have I told you the story?"
"Mmmm... Don't think so. What happened?"
"She caught me in the loo at the station with Sandra Stewart from Traffic."
"Doing what?" A certain amount of delighted interest coloured Robin's tone, as if she was anticipating a juicy bit of gossip. Despite her mood, Scribbs couldn't help playing to those expectations a bit.
"Well, would've been a lot more if Ash hadn't walked in!" she replied saucily. "But that's not the worst."
"What's the worst?"
"Sandra ran off -- she was mortified -- and then..."
"Yeah?"
"I came on to Ash."
Robin laughed out loud. "Right there in the loo?"
Chuckling, Scribbs nodded. She remembered it with crystal clarity, the look on Ash's face, the flush on her cheeks, the way her eyes darted all over the room. "She was trying so hard to put on this aloof act, like she didn't even see anything. I just had to call her on it. Had to."
"I think your DI's a bit of a voyeur," Robin teased. "So what happened? She gave you the brush off?"
"Yeah, of course. The venerable Kate Ashurst doesn't flirt with total strangers in a toilet." Scribbs faced the mirror again, but in her mind's eye she was seeing Ash's blush deepen pleasingly before the DI made tracks out of the room.
"Hell of a first impression."
"How I was I to know we'd be made partners a few weeks later?" Scribbs asked plaintively.
"But it doesn't make you a slut. Just a flirt and a cheat."
"Thanks, you're being very supportive," Scribbs shot back.
"Seriously, though, I've half a mind to call Ash up and set her straight. Granted, I've never seen this bedpost you speak of, but all the times we've been out together, I've only seen you take someone home, what... twice? But I've seen you turn down about a hundred offers."
Scribbs pulled a face, absently watching her reflection contort. "She thinks I split up with Jamie because I didn't want to be tied down."
"Jesus." Robin was incredulous. "Why don't you just tell her it's exactly the opposite? That you didn't want to keep going through the motions? That you want the real thing, and Jamie's not the one you want it with?"
"Because, Robin."
"Because why?"
"Because of what I've just been saying! Bedpost, shag expert, awkward bathroom come-on! Haven't you been listening?" Scribbs made a fist with her free hand and thumped the countertop. "If she wanted me, if she was open to the possibility at all, would she have asked me to help her hook up with someone else?"
There was silence on the line for a moment. Then Robin said quietly, "The only answer I've got to that is this -- Why'd you agree to do it?"
Scribbs sighed. "Because she asked me to."
Title: Pulling (1/2)
Rating: PG
Notes: Part of my ongoing series. Takes place during "Estate Agents", which sets it before the other parts of the series (so reading the other parts first is not required).
"God."
"What?"
"For a minute there I thought that was my old geography teacher."
Scribbs laughed. She was driving and Ash was studying Phil Jakes's corkboard of conquests as best should could in the intermittent light of streetlamps.
"Did you see Anita's board?" Scribbs asked a moment later. "She had more men than most of the straight women I know put together."
Ash shook her head. "You know, sometimes I feel like the only human being over 30 whose list of past shags isn't thick as a telephone directory."
Scribbs gave a perturbed sideways glance. "Hey!"
"Come on, your board could probably rival Phil's here."
"There's got to be over a hundred photos there, Ash!"
Smothering a smirk, Ash let silence speak louder than words. She was only joking but it made her wonder just how many pictures would be on Scribbs's board if she were in the habit of pinning them up like their latest victim and his colleague. Surely not a hundred, but definitely far more than I'd have, she thought.
"This whole idea of competing for the highest number," she said. "It's so... sordid."
"Keeping the condom industry in profits, though. At least, I hope."
"That's just it. Pregnancy, HIV... At least when lesbians sleep around there's far less at stake."
Scribbs murmured acknowledgement. Ash tilted the corkboard to try to counteract the glare of the streetlamps, but it was starting to hurt her eyes. She let the board fall to her lap.
"D'you know, Scribbs, I've never had a one night stand."
That drew another glance from her partner. "No? Well, that's a good thing, according to you, right?"
"I don't know," Ash mused. "I mean, it's not like I've never considered it. Or had the opportunity. Remember, that woman at Jane's party, the one who gave me a lift home and wanted to spend the night?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"But I've never, you know, gone out looking for it." She gazed out the window, watching postboxes and fire hydrants go by. "I'm not even exactly sure how you go about..."
"What, pulling?" Scribbs looked over with raised eyebrows.
"Right. If one did want to... you know... just for sex... how would one...?"
The conversation finally had Scribbs's attention, and she seemed hard pressed to keep her eyes on the road. "Boy, this thing with your neighbour's really got you frustrated, hasn't it?"
There's that, and there's... other factors, Ash thought. It's my neighbour's noisy sex life that keeps me awake at night, but it's not her I think of while I'm lying there.
"Are you going to help me or not?" she asked.
"Help you?"
Too late, Ash realized how her question could have been interpreted, and hurried to clarify. "Teach me how to pull."
**********
The phone rang as Scribbs was brushing her hair. She went into the bedroom to answer.
"Hello?"
"Hi, it's Robin. What you up to?"
"Just getting ready to go out, actually."
"What? God, turn that down, will you? What is that?"
Hastily, Scribbs twisted the stereo's volume knob halfway back to zero. "Sorry. Nine Inch Nails. Better?"
"Yeah -- what did you say?"
"I'm getting ready to go out."
"Yeah? I was going to ask if you wanted to come round for a drink."
"Can't. Ash is due here in 20." She carried the phone back into the bathroom, where the counter was littered with a wide array of beauty products.
"Oh?"
"We're going to Tuscon."
"Ohhhhh."
"Don't get excited," Scribbs warned her friend, trapping the phone between her shoulder and ear so she could have both hands free to do her makeup.
"What, it's for a case?"
"No. More like... a project."
"What kind of project?"
Scribbs took a steadying breath. "Ash has asked me to show her how to have a one-night stand."
There was silence on the line. Her friend was obviously not sure how to respond.
"With someone else," Scribbs added helpfully.
"Well," Robin said. "That explains the grumps."
"She's decided that she's come to a point in her life when she's willing to give casual sex a try."
"And you didn't offer to help her out with that more directly?"
Scribbs grimaced. "Oh no, she wants a total stranger. Someone she's never going to see again."
"Hmmm. Do you think that means she's a crap shag?"
"Robin."
"Sorry, sorry," Robin said quickly, but she was snickering.
"Anyway, I've got too many notches on my bedpost for her liking," Scribbs said, yanking the cap off a mascara brush. "A stranger she can at least pretend has a spotless record."
"Jesus, Scribbs, you make yourself sound like the Whore of Babylon."
"I may as well be, in Ash's eyes. Why d'you think she asked me to do this?" She leaned in close to the mirror. "To benefit from the wealth of my experience. Who better to turn to for advice on sleeping around than the expert?"
"Did she really say that?"
"Not those exact words, no. Ow!"
"What?"
Scribbs sent the mascara back into the pile of makeup with a vicious flick of her wrist. "Bloody poked myself in the eye."
"Careful, eh? Hey, what are you wearing?"
Blinking rapidly, she glanced down at her robe. "I haven't decided yet."
"Oh? Does that mean you're--"
"I'm hanging up now," Scribbs interrupted. She was in no mood for their usual banter.
"No, don't! I promise I'll be good. Honest."
The words were sincere, even though there was laughter behind them, and Robin probably knew Scribbs's threat was an empty one anyway. Besides, the blonde was glad the subject of clothes had been brought up.
"What d'you think I should wear? I mean, what's the appropriate outfit for pimping out your partner in a yuppie bar?"
"It's not pimping if you're not getting anything out of it. Why'd you pick Tuscon, anyway? That place is so pretentious."
"It's the classiest place I could think of where there was any chance of there being lesbians about. This is Ash we're talking about. She may have suddenly become a seething heap of hormones but she's still got standards."
"Does she really think you're a slut?" Robin asked dubiously.
"Yes. No. I don't know." Scribbs gave up trying to do her face while she was distracted. She turned her back to the mirror and leaned against the counter. "Not like a really bad one. I think it's all down to how we met. Have I told you the story?"
"Mmmm... Don't think so. What happened?"
"She caught me in the loo at the station with Sandra Stewart from Traffic."
"Doing what?" A certain amount of delighted interest coloured Robin's tone, as if she was anticipating a juicy bit of gossip. Despite her mood, Scribbs couldn't help playing to those expectations a bit.
"Well, would've been a lot more if Ash hadn't walked in!" she replied saucily. "But that's not the worst."
"What's the worst?"
"Sandra ran off -- she was mortified -- and then..."
"Yeah?"
"I came on to Ash."
Robin laughed out loud. "Right there in the loo?"
Chuckling, Scribbs nodded. She remembered it with crystal clarity, the look on Ash's face, the flush on her cheeks, the way her eyes darted all over the room. "She was trying so hard to put on this aloof act, like she didn't even see anything. I just had to call her on it. Had to."
"I think your DI's a bit of a voyeur," Robin teased. "So what happened? She gave you the brush off?"
"Yeah, of course. The venerable Kate Ashurst doesn't flirt with total strangers in a toilet." Scribbs faced the mirror again, but in her mind's eye she was seeing Ash's blush deepen pleasingly before the DI made tracks out of the room.
"Hell of a first impression."
"How I was I to know we'd be made partners a few weeks later?" Scribbs asked plaintively.
"But it doesn't make you a slut. Just a flirt and a cheat."
"Thanks, you're being very supportive," Scribbs shot back.
"Seriously, though, I've half a mind to call Ash up and set her straight. Granted, I've never seen this bedpost you speak of, but all the times we've been out together, I've only seen you take someone home, what... twice? But I've seen you turn down about a hundred offers."
Scribbs pulled a face, absently watching her reflection contort. "She thinks I split up with Jamie because I didn't want to be tied down."
"Jesus." Robin was incredulous. "Why don't you just tell her it's exactly the opposite? That you didn't want to keep going through the motions? That you want the real thing, and Jamie's not the one you want it with?"
"Because, Robin."
"Because why?"
"Because of what I've just been saying! Bedpost, shag expert, awkward bathroom come-on! Haven't you been listening?" Scribbs made a fist with her free hand and thumped the countertop. "If she wanted me, if she was open to the possibility at all, would she have asked me to help her hook up with someone else?"
There was silence on the line for a moment. Then Robin said quietly, "The only answer I've got to that is this -- Why'd you agree to do it?"
Scribbs sighed. "Because she asked me to."