The Best Of (Nancy/Celia)
Title: The Best Of
For: crushing83
Fandom: Weeds
Pairing: Nancy/Celia
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: S1
Word Count: 318
Summary: The thing about Celia is this.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.
*
The thing about Celia is that, sometimes, she can make Nancy feel really awful. It never happens when Celia tries, with an insult or one of her self-righteous tirades about what is wrong with the world, but when Celia lets her guard down. When she's tired and drunk and blindly reaching out for a connection.
"We should be better friends," Celia says. "We should be friends."
"We're friends," Nancy says. She pours Celia more wine. "We're perfectly good friends."
"We're not. We're neighbors. If one of us moved, we'd never see each other again. You wouldn't miss me."
Celia says the last sentence with an edge to her voice, as if that would be all Nancy's fault.
"I would," Nancy says. At best it's a half-truth, but she's told fuller lies, so it's okay. Comparatively. "Things are never boring with you around."
Celia stares into her wineglass for a moment. "You're full of shit." She doesn't sound angry about it. It's just a statement, as harmless as asking someone to pass the salt. "But thanks."
"Celia," she begins. She wants Celia to stop her, to fill in the blanks with whatever words she wants to hear. But Celia says nothing. "Want some more wine? I have white if you're sick of red."
Celia looks over at her. "We should have sex."
Nancy isn't surprised and, unlike the last time she brought this up, she's pretty sure Celia isn't kidding. "You think that would make us friends?"
She shrugs. "It couldn't hurt. And I haven't come in months. It's fucking depressing."
It's not that dire, this purported problem. But Celia looks so goddamn sad, and it still makes Nancy feel awful. Sex is hardly the worst thing one can have.
"Okay," Nancy says. "If it would make you feel better, let's have sex."
Celia sort of smiles. "Maybe you really are my friend, Nance."
She nods. "Maybe I am."
END
For: crushing83
Fandom: Weeds
Pairing: Nancy/Celia
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: S1
Word Count: 318
Summary: The thing about Celia is this.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.
*
The thing about Celia is that, sometimes, she can make Nancy feel really awful. It never happens when Celia tries, with an insult or one of her self-righteous tirades about what is wrong with the world, but when Celia lets her guard down. When she's tired and drunk and blindly reaching out for a connection.
"We should be better friends," Celia says. "We should be friends."
"We're friends," Nancy says. She pours Celia more wine. "We're perfectly good friends."
"We're not. We're neighbors. If one of us moved, we'd never see each other again. You wouldn't miss me."
Celia says the last sentence with an edge to her voice, as if that would be all Nancy's fault.
"I would," Nancy says. At best it's a half-truth, but she's told fuller lies, so it's okay. Comparatively. "Things are never boring with you around."
Celia stares into her wineglass for a moment. "You're full of shit." She doesn't sound angry about it. It's just a statement, as harmless as asking someone to pass the salt. "But thanks."
"Celia," she begins. She wants Celia to stop her, to fill in the blanks with whatever words she wants to hear. But Celia says nothing. "Want some more wine? I have white if you're sick of red."
Celia looks over at her. "We should have sex."
Nancy isn't surprised and, unlike the last time she brought this up, she's pretty sure Celia isn't kidding. "You think that would make us friends?"
She shrugs. "It couldn't hurt. And I haven't come in months. It's fucking depressing."
It's not that dire, this purported problem. But Celia looks so goddamn sad, and it still makes Nancy feel awful. Sex is hardly the worst thing one can have.
"Okay," Nancy says. "If it would make you feel better, let's have sex."
Celia sort of smiles. "Maybe you really are my friend, Nance."
She nods. "Maybe I am."
END