Intoxicated (Updated July 14 - 710 words)
Summary: Lincoln/Sara, a club and an argument over drugs. Ever since I saw Bec's comment about Sara/Lincoln in TheLana's journal it has had me thinking.
Rating: PG-13/15 - two bad words, sexual situations, its about the implications rather than the act more fun (trust me)
Disclaimer: Borrowing and not owning anything am I but not Yoda because he is someone else's too
Note: Thought it was fun to post as an intro post and thanks to the person with the helpful suggestion!
Words: 409 ( I did some tinkering - then some more, oh blast i'm leaving this now and backing away whilst I still can)
“Thank you! You really made my night!” shouts Lincoln. “You got me thrown out of the club. You really are a bitch".
“You don’t get to call me a bitch. You don't get to shout at me” she yells back. "You barely know me".
"I know you better than you think" comes the unerring reply from Lincoln.
They are both standing outside a club in the early morning hours. She feels unsteady on her feet. The drugs in her system are beginning to wear off. Reality breaks into her thoughts like sunlight through a dirty window. She is arguing outside a club with a guy whose fingers must still be wet from her mouth. She can still remember how he gentle he was as he held her against him in the toilet. That was what had shocked her the most. That he wanted to make sure that she orgasmed too.
Its 2am. Class starts at 9am. Her dorm is on the other side of the city. She has no money to get there. Calling her father or her sister for help is not an option she is willing to consider.
“What else do you call a woman who uses men?” snarled Lincoln right in her face. “There’s only one thing you wanted me for.”
“I, I” mutters Sara. He is staring at her with big brown eyes wet with tears. It reminds her of her pet great dane. If he is acting he is doing an award-winning performance. He can’t have recognised her surely? She has stuck to her side of the deal with her father.
“I was going to give you my number” replies Lincoln solemnly. The way he stares at Sara is searing her insides to a husk of bone and muscle.
“I thought you would rather buy from someone you could trust. I didn't think there. I thought I was more than a fuck against a toilet wall to you".
“Sorry” stutters Sara by way of a reply.
“I tried to help you and all you did was to scream that I was attacking you! Don’t you realise the bouncers in this club realise that I’m one dealer that won’t sell to the kids in this neighbourhood. Do you think that they will call the cops on the word of a spoiled little princess?” says Lincoln.
"I said I was sorry". Lincoln is avoiding her gaze. His shoulders are slumped as he leans against the wall of the club. The tiredness of the long hours at work is beginning to tell on his limbs.
===========================
“Thanks you bitch!” shouts Lincoln. “You got me thrown out of the club”.
“You don’t get to call me a bitch” she yells back. "I'm not a female animal, I'm a woman".
They are both standing outside a club in the early morning hours. She feels unsteady on her feet. The drugs in her system are beginning to wear off. Reality seeps into her thoughts like sunlight through a dirty window. She is arguing outside a club with a guy whose fingers must still be wet from her mouth. Its 2 am. Class starts at 9am. Her dorm is on the other side of the city and she has no money to get there.
“What else do you call a woman who uses men?” snarled Lincoln right in her face. “There’s only one thing you wanted me for.”
“I, I” mutters Sara. He is staring at her with big brown eyes wet with tears. It reminds her of her pet great dane. If he is acting he is doing an award-winning performance. He can’t have recognised her surely? She has stuck to her side of the deal with her father.
“I was going to give you my number” replies Lincoln solemnly. The way he stares at Sara is searing her insides. He really does like her. Its the same stare that her sister used to give her father when he disappointed her. Before Sara and her sister were old enough to understand.
Sara feels guilty because she had not realised that he had meant every word he had said to her sincerely. She had meant everything she had said to him. But how much of it was motivated by her desire to get high, on all the intoxicants she could be it drugs and sex and booze to get relief from the bruises left by her upbringing, and how much was genuine affection was hard to make out in her present state of mind.
“I thought you would rather buy from someone you could trust” he continues.
“Sorry” stutters Sara by way of a reply.
“I tried to help you and all you did was to scream that I was attacking you! Don’t you realise the bouncers in this club realise that I’m one dealer that won’t sell to school kids. Do you think that they will call the cops on the word of a spoiled little princess?” says Lincoln grabbing her by the shoulders the better to make his point.
"I said I was sorry" she stutters.
Lincoln is avoiding her gaze as he backs off frightened by the thought he could have hurt her. His shoulders are slumped as he leans against the wall of the club. It has been a long night and Lisa is going to be dropping off LJ at his place in another 9 hours.
Its going to be a long walk home. Lessons from her self-defence class comes to mind. Her red highlights would mark her out like a bullseye over a moving target for the hunters seeking prey on the streets. Sara puts the hood of her black puffa jacket up and tucks her hair in.
Clumsily Sara takes her dark blue pashmina from her hands and wraps around her neck before tying it closed at the front. All the expensive clothes that she wears were chosen so they could turn into camouflage at a moment’s notice. The more she blends into the neighbourhoods she passes through to and from from the clubs she goes to each night, the safer she is on her way in and out of the dorm.
“Wait? What are you doing?” he calls after her.
“I’m walking home” Sara replies just loud enough for him to hear. She doesn’t want the whole block to hear her business.
“I am going to walk with you” he answers.
“Its ok stud, really. I am not looking for a white knight. I can take care of any monsters on my way home myself.”
She smiles to herself. Being qualified in self-defence was priceless. She was never going to become a crime statistic.
“Listen princess, I’m not offering to star in your real life fairytale. What I’m offering you is the chance to make it to your door in one piece.”
Rating: PG-13/15 - two bad words, sexual situations, its about the implications rather than the act more fun (trust me)
Disclaimer: Borrowing and not owning anything am I but not Yoda because he is someone else's too
Note: Thought it was fun to post as an intro post and thanks to the person with the helpful suggestion!
Words: 409 ( I did some tinkering - then some more, oh blast i'm leaving this now and backing away whilst I still can)
“Thank you! You really made my night!” shouts Lincoln. “You got me thrown out of the club. You really are a bitch".
“You don’t get to call me a bitch. You don't get to shout at me” she yells back. "You barely know me".
"I know you better than you think" comes the unerring reply from Lincoln.
They are both standing outside a club in the early morning hours. She feels unsteady on her feet. The drugs in her system are beginning to wear off. Reality breaks into her thoughts like sunlight through a dirty window. She is arguing outside a club with a guy whose fingers must still be wet from her mouth. She can still remember how he gentle he was as he held her against him in the toilet. That was what had shocked her the most. That he wanted to make sure that she orgasmed too.
Its 2am. Class starts at 9am. Her dorm is on the other side of the city. She has no money to get there. Calling her father or her sister for help is not an option she is willing to consider.
“What else do you call a woman who uses men?” snarled Lincoln right in her face. “There’s only one thing you wanted me for.”
“I, I” mutters Sara. He is staring at her with big brown eyes wet with tears. It reminds her of her pet great dane. If he is acting he is doing an award-winning performance. He can’t have recognised her surely? She has stuck to her side of the deal with her father.
“I was going to give you my number” replies Lincoln solemnly. The way he stares at Sara is searing her insides to a husk of bone and muscle.
“I thought you would rather buy from someone you could trust. I didn't think there. I thought I was more than a fuck against a toilet wall to you".
“Sorry” stutters Sara by way of a reply.
“I tried to help you and all you did was to scream that I was attacking you! Don’t you realise the bouncers in this club realise that I’m one dealer that won’t sell to the kids in this neighbourhood. Do you think that they will call the cops on the word of a spoiled little princess?” says Lincoln.
"I said I was sorry". Lincoln is avoiding her gaze. His shoulders are slumped as he leans against the wall of the club. The tiredness of the long hours at work is beginning to tell on his limbs.
===========================
“Thanks you bitch!” shouts Lincoln. “You got me thrown out of the club”.
“You don’t get to call me a bitch” she yells back. "I'm not a female animal, I'm a woman".
They are both standing outside a club in the early morning hours. She feels unsteady on her feet. The drugs in her system are beginning to wear off. Reality seeps into her thoughts like sunlight through a dirty window. She is arguing outside a club with a guy whose fingers must still be wet from her mouth. Its 2 am. Class starts at 9am. Her dorm is on the other side of the city and she has no money to get there.
“What else do you call a woman who uses men?” snarled Lincoln right in her face. “There’s only one thing you wanted me for.”
“I, I” mutters Sara. He is staring at her with big brown eyes wet with tears. It reminds her of her pet great dane. If he is acting he is doing an award-winning performance. He can’t have recognised her surely? She has stuck to her side of the deal with her father.
“I was going to give you my number” replies Lincoln solemnly. The way he stares at Sara is searing her insides. He really does like her. Its the same stare that her sister used to give her father when he disappointed her. Before Sara and her sister were old enough to understand.
Sara feels guilty because she had not realised that he had meant every word he had said to her sincerely. She had meant everything she had said to him. But how much of it was motivated by her desire to get high, on all the intoxicants she could be it drugs and sex and booze to get relief from the bruises left by her upbringing, and how much was genuine affection was hard to make out in her present state of mind.
“I thought you would rather buy from someone you could trust” he continues.
“Sorry” stutters Sara by way of a reply.
“I tried to help you and all you did was to scream that I was attacking you! Don’t you realise the bouncers in this club realise that I’m one dealer that won’t sell to school kids. Do you think that they will call the cops on the word of a spoiled little princess?” says Lincoln grabbing her by the shoulders the better to make his point.
"I said I was sorry" she stutters.
Lincoln is avoiding her gaze as he backs off frightened by the thought he could have hurt her. His shoulders are slumped as he leans against the wall of the club. It has been a long night and Lisa is going to be dropping off LJ at his place in another 9 hours.
Its going to be a long walk home. Lessons from her self-defence class comes to mind. Her red highlights would mark her out like a bullseye over a moving target for the hunters seeking prey on the streets. Sara puts the hood of her black puffa jacket up and tucks her hair in.
Clumsily Sara takes her dark blue pashmina from her hands and wraps around her neck before tying it closed at the front. All the expensive clothes that she wears were chosen so they could turn into camouflage at a moment’s notice. The more she blends into the neighbourhoods she passes through to and from from the clubs she goes to each night, the safer she is on her way in and out of the dorm.
“Wait? What are you doing?” he calls after her.
“I’m walking home” Sara replies just loud enough for him to hear. She doesn’t want the whole block to hear her business.
“I am going to walk with you” he answers.
“Its ok stud, really. I am not looking for a white knight. I can take care of any monsters on my way home myself.”
She smiles to herself. Being qualified in self-defence was priceless. She was never going to become a crime statistic.
“Listen princess, I’m not offering to star in your real life fairytale. What I’m offering you is the chance to make it to your door in one piece.”