The O.C. Fic: Hip and Hypocrisy (Missing Scene Fic Challenge II and a bundle of other things...)
My benevolent self is busy, but aware of all the shiny things she promised. Time for a list (in order of request):
1) OC Missing Scene Fic: II
2) Lost drabble for tarteaucitron
3) Firefly drabble for emrose33
4) Icon for cheekymice
5) OC drabble for demonic_cookie
6) Music rec for famous99
I think I can do that. Huh. Anyway, presenting promise the first...
Hip and Hypocrisy
Disclaimer: The O.C. is property of Fox.
Author’s Note: Written for the Second Annual O.C. Missing Scene Challenge. It’s short and hopefully sweet. My heart wasn’t completely in it. But I’ve tried. Forgive me?
Alone in her apartment, The Nana sat nursing a scotch in quiet contemplation.
No matter what Sandy might suspect or what she may have told him, Sophie Cohen, Natural Born Matriarch, She Who Must Be Obeyed, The Nana, refused to believe that Bobby was only in it for the money. Sure, on the surface it didn’t look good for Bobby; wooing a single woman, no family nearby, slightly caustic personality with a lot of money and a recent history of serious lung cancer? For such a woman to open her heart unconditionally to a young, hair-plugged man with a tan of questionable origins was the romantic equivalent of putting on a red jumper and beaming down to an explored planet. And so it would be for many a chronologically-challenged female residing in one of Miami’s most exclusive retirement communities.
But this was The Nana.
Scourge of Newport Beach, tamer of Caleb Nichol, a woman who simply the mere mention of her name was enough to send several senior colleagues of New York Child Services reaching for their little round pills. The chemotherapy may have kicked her ass seven ways to Sunday, but it had not robbed her of her faculties and The Nana was not the type to taken in by a smooth talking, gold-digging chiropractor. As many reasons as there were for not believing in Bobby’s intentions were entirely honorable, there was one brilliant one that countered all of them with ease.
The sex was fantastic.
Years of chiropractic experience had made Bobby a grand master of the body and its capabilities. The boy knew things that would make a professional blush and The Nana took to them all with a song in a heart and a swing in her step, give or take the time she’d accidentally thrown her hip out of its socket.
What really irritated her was the way that Sandy had come in, white knight armor shining in the Florida sunshine and had not only proceeded to tell her not only that was his own marriage not as strong as it had been but also insinuated that her most attractive assets weren’t anatomical. As if she couldn’t have worked that out for herself. Still, it had certainly been fun while it lasted and both she, Bobby and Abe in the condo next door knew it.
The Nana swirled the whisky and ice gently around the glass together and sighed. She’d be damned if she was going to live out the rest of her years in the Pleasantville of Miami when she had a condo waiting for her in Sarasota. But before she went, she was going to give this place something to remember her by. Downing the rest of her drink, The Nana picked the phone, smiling devilishly to herself as it was picked up.
“Hey Abe, it’s Sophie. How’s your hip these days?”
In between the static and eighty-something breathing, could practically hear Abe's heart skip a beat, and not in a good way. She grinned. The Nana was back.
~~~
1) OC Missing Scene Fic: II
2) Lost drabble for tarteaucitron
3) Firefly drabble for emrose33
4) Icon for cheekymice
5) OC drabble for demonic_cookie
6) Music rec for famous99
I think I can do that. Huh. Anyway, presenting promise the first...
Hip and Hypocrisy
Disclaimer: The O.C. is property of Fox.
Author’s Note: Written for the Second Annual O.C. Missing Scene Challenge. It’s short and hopefully sweet. My heart wasn’t completely in it. But I’ve tried. Forgive me?
Alone in her apartment, The Nana sat nursing a scotch in quiet contemplation.
No matter what Sandy might suspect or what she may have told him, Sophie Cohen, Natural Born Matriarch, She Who Must Be Obeyed, The Nana, refused to believe that Bobby was only in it for the money. Sure, on the surface it didn’t look good for Bobby; wooing a single woman, no family nearby, slightly caustic personality with a lot of money and a recent history of serious lung cancer? For such a woman to open her heart unconditionally to a young, hair-plugged man with a tan of questionable origins was the romantic equivalent of putting on a red jumper and beaming down to an explored planet. And so it would be for many a chronologically-challenged female residing in one of Miami’s most exclusive retirement communities.
But this was The Nana.
Scourge of Newport Beach, tamer of Caleb Nichol, a woman who simply the mere mention of her name was enough to send several senior colleagues of New York Child Services reaching for their little round pills. The chemotherapy may have kicked her ass seven ways to Sunday, but it had not robbed her of her faculties and The Nana was not the type to taken in by a smooth talking, gold-digging chiropractor. As many reasons as there were for not believing in Bobby’s intentions were entirely honorable, there was one brilliant one that countered all of them with ease.
The sex was fantastic.
Years of chiropractic experience had made Bobby a grand master of the body and its capabilities. The boy knew things that would make a professional blush and The Nana took to them all with a song in a heart and a swing in her step, give or take the time she’d accidentally thrown her hip out of its socket.
What really irritated her was the way that Sandy had come in, white knight armor shining in the Florida sunshine and had not only proceeded to tell her not only that was his own marriage not as strong as it had been but also insinuated that her most attractive assets weren’t anatomical. As if she couldn’t have worked that out for herself. Still, it had certainly been fun while it lasted and both she, Bobby and Abe in the condo next door knew it.
The Nana swirled the whisky and ice gently around the glass together and sighed. She’d be damned if she was going to live out the rest of her years in the Pleasantville of Miami when she had a condo waiting for her in Sarasota. But before she went, she was going to give this place something to remember her by. Downing the rest of her drink, The Nana picked the phone, smiling devilishly to herself as it was picked up.
“Hey Abe, it’s Sophie. How’s your hip these days?”
In between the static and eighty-something breathing, could practically hear Abe's heart skip a beat, and not in a good way. She grinned. The Nana was back.
~~~