firstlines1000's challenge #17.
Title: Life isn’t Fair.
Author: Kaelle - cieux.
Fandom: V.I.P
Characters: Tasha, Val.
MsWord Count: 1000.
Summary: Val doesn’t think that being targeted by hit men is a good enough reason to cancel a party.
Author Note: For challenge #17, “I hate you, you know.”
---
“I hate you, you know.”
“That’s fine with me.”
“Don’t ‘that’s fine with me’ me, Tasha Dexter, didn’t you hear what I said? I hate you.”
“I heard you, Val.” Tasha didn’t bother looking up. “You hate me at least three times a day, I think I’ll cope.”
“You are so mean!”
Val flung herself onto the couch, her expression sulky and her cheeks flushed. She’d been working herself up into a state for the last twenty minutes, instantly furious from the moment Tasha said no to her planned evening in the spotlight. In return, Tasha had found herself the recipient of a fifteen minute rant about how this was going to be ‘the best party ever to be thrown for her’ and she couldn’t believe Tasha would make her miss it, before Val attempted to not-talk to her. That hadn’t lasted.
“Not to burst your bubble,” Tasha slammed the file she was reading closed, irritated by Val’s seeming determination to step straight into the line of fire, “But someone’s trying to kill you, Val, with real guns. Real bullets. You know… those things that kill.” She bit out the words, trying not to sound as frustrated as she felt. Val always took her personal safety so lightly, making it harder for Tasha to worry about their clients because she always had to keep half an eye on her reckless boss.
“Duh, Tasha, I know that.” Val sat up straight, pinning her with sparkly-blue eyes, unmoved by her words. “But you guys are the best, right? So if I go with you then we’ll all get to have a good time and I’ll be as safe as I am here. Besides,” her tone turned whiny, “This party’s for me!” It was a variation on what she’d said before and Tasha still wasn’t buying into it.
Keeping her focus was made more difficult by the distraction of the horrible pink fluffy boa Val had wound around her neck earlier that morning but she managed, fixing her eyes on Val’s and summoning up all the [considerable] authority she could muster as she repeated,
“No.”
“Argh!” Val threw her hands in the air and stood up, stamping her foot in childish anger. “Tasha, you are being such a B-I-T-C-H! You need to remove that stick from your….”
“Val!” Quick interrupted her, darting forward before Tasha could fire back a reply. “Val, c’mon now, take it easy, Tasha’s only trying to make sure you stay safe.”
He slung a brotherly arm around her shoulders and she sighed, turning away from Tasha to appeal to him instead; she could always count on Quick to be up for a good time - surely he couldn’t agree with Tasha’s decision, he just couldn’t. She snuck a peek at his face and her spirits sank. He wasn’t going to agree with her, she could tell even before she spoke. She blamed Tasha, who was being uptight as usual and had therefore infected the rest of her friends with Responsibility.
“I’m going to watch TV,” she muttered, abruptly shaking off Quick’s arm and click-clacking her way to the couch, sitting down and picking up the remote control. Her expression went back to ‘sulky’ and Quick exchanged glances with Tasha - who rolled her eyes in response - before collecting his keys and heading out to meet up with Nicki and Johnny, leaving Tasha to deal with Val.
Tasha worked for another twenty minutes before the loud, pointed sighs coming from the couch forced her to quit. Val had picked a talk show she knew Tasha couldn’t stand and, although she couldn’t prove it, she was fairly sure Val had been turning the volume up one notch at a time because the audience were definitely louder than they had been ten minutes ago. She stood up and walked over to the couch, tempted to turn the volume down on her way but unwilling to push Val any further while she was in such a difficult mood.
Val looked up briefly when she sat down next to her before crossing her arms and staring fixedly at the television, even though the show was on a commercial break. Tasha waited patiently, knowing Val well enough to know that she wouldn’t have to wait long. She didn’t.
“Why are you being so mean?” Val clicked off the volume and threw the remote on the table, turning to look at Tasha with a vaguely hurt look in her eyes. “Why won’t you let me go to my party?”
“Val, is the concept of someone trying to kill you that difficult for you to understand?” Tasha stared at her with something approaching disbelief, wondering if Val knew how childish she sounded. Val was often stubborn but she wasn’t usually this bad.
“People want to kill me all the time!”
“They aren’t usually professional, government-trained hit men! This is serious Val, why can’t you see that.” Tasha glared at her now. “It’s just a party, someone will throw you another one next week and you can go to that instead.”
“You always make fun of me! Your problem is you don’t know how to relax and have fun.” She glared back.
It stung a little although Tasha wouldn’t admit it to Val for the world, opting for, “Which is what’s kept you alive so far!” instead.
Val pouted, but the truth of Tasha’s reply reached even her. “It’s not fair,” she switched tracks. “I hate this stupid job.”
“But you like your car and your apartment,” Tasha pointed out, “And your credit cards. Besides, Nicki, Johnny and Quick might still find them in time for you to go.”
Val brightened, reluctantly. “I suppose so,” she considered. After a moment, her eyes widened. “But I didn’t pick anything to wear yet!”
Tasha held back from rolling her eyes, but only just, as Val bounced to her feet, newly re-energised and already discarding clothing choices out loud. She watched her nearly skipping away and could only hope the others came through.
Author: Kaelle - cieux.
Fandom: V.I.P
Characters: Tasha, Val.
MsWord Count: 1000.
Summary: Val doesn’t think that being targeted by hit men is a good enough reason to cancel a party.
Author Note: For challenge #17, “I hate you, you know.”
---
“I hate you, you know.”
“That’s fine with me.”
“Don’t ‘that’s fine with me’ me, Tasha Dexter, didn’t you hear what I said? I hate you.”
“I heard you, Val.” Tasha didn’t bother looking up. “You hate me at least three times a day, I think I’ll cope.”
“You are so mean!”
Val flung herself onto the couch, her expression sulky and her cheeks flushed. She’d been working herself up into a state for the last twenty minutes, instantly furious from the moment Tasha said no to her planned evening in the spotlight. In return, Tasha had found herself the recipient of a fifteen minute rant about how this was going to be ‘the best party ever to be thrown for her’ and she couldn’t believe Tasha would make her miss it, before Val attempted to not-talk to her. That hadn’t lasted.
“Not to burst your bubble,” Tasha slammed the file she was reading closed, irritated by Val’s seeming determination to step straight into the line of fire, “But someone’s trying to kill you, Val, with real guns. Real bullets. You know… those things that kill.” She bit out the words, trying not to sound as frustrated as she felt. Val always took her personal safety so lightly, making it harder for Tasha to worry about their clients because she always had to keep half an eye on her reckless boss.
“Duh, Tasha, I know that.” Val sat up straight, pinning her with sparkly-blue eyes, unmoved by her words. “But you guys are the best, right? So if I go with you then we’ll all get to have a good time and I’ll be as safe as I am here. Besides,” her tone turned whiny, “This party’s for me!” It was a variation on what she’d said before and Tasha still wasn’t buying into it.
Keeping her focus was made more difficult by the distraction of the horrible pink fluffy boa Val had wound around her neck earlier that morning but she managed, fixing her eyes on Val’s and summoning up all the [considerable] authority she could muster as she repeated,
“No.”
“Argh!” Val threw her hands in the air and stood up, stamping her foot in childish anger. “Tasha, you are being such a B-I-T-C-H! You need to remove that stick from your….”
“Val!” Quick interrupted her, darting forward before Tasha could fire back a reply. “Val, c’mon now, take it easy, Tasha’s only trying to make sure you stay safe.”
He slung a brotherly arm around her shoulders and she sighed, turning away from Tasha to appeal to him instead; she could always count on Quick to be up for a good time - surely he couldn’t agree with Tasha’s decision, he just couldn’t. She snuck a peek at his face and her spirits sank. He wasn’t going to agree with her, she could tell even before she spoke. She blamed Tasha, who was being uptight as usual and had therefore infected the rest of her friends with Responsibility.
“I’m going to watch TV,” she muttered, abruptly shaking off Quick’s arm and click-clacking her way to the couch, sitting down and picking up the remote control. Her expression went back to ‘sulky’ and Quick exchanged glances with Tasha - who rolled her eyes in response - before collecting his keys and heading out to meet up with Nicki and Johnny, leaving Tasha to deal with Val.
Tasha worked for another twenty minutes before the loud, pointed sighs coming from the couch forced her to quit. Val had picked a talk show she knew Tasha couldn’t stand and, although she couldn’t prove it, she was fairly sure Val had been turning the volume up one notch at a time because the audience were definitely louder than they had been ten minutes ago. She stood up and walked over to the couch, tempted to turn the volume down on her way but unwilling to push Val any further while she was in such a difficult mood.
Val looked up briefly when she sat down next to her before crossing her arms and staring fixedly at the television, even though the show was on a commercial break. Tasha waited patiently, knowing Val well enough to know that she wouldn’t have to wait long. She didn’t.
“Why are you being so mean?” Val clicked off the volume and threw the remote on the table, turning to look at Tasha with a vaguely hurt look in her eyes. “Why won’t you let me go to my party?”
“Val, is the concept of someone trying to kill you that difficult for you to understand?” Tasha stared at her with something approaching disbelief, wondering if Val knew how childish she sounded. Val was often stubborn but she wasn’t usually this bad.
“People want to kill me all the time!”
“They aren’t usually professional, government-trained hit men! This is serious Val, why can’t you see that.” Tasha glared at her now. “It’s just a party, someone will throw you another one next week and you can go to that instead.”
“You always make fun of me! Your problem is you don’t know how to relax and have fun.” She glared back.
It stung a little although Tasha wouldn’t admit it to Val for the world, opting for, “Which is what’s kept you alive so far!” instead.
Val pouted, but the truth of Tasha’s reply reached even her. “It’s not fair,” she switched tracks. “I hate this stupid job.”
“But you like your car and your apartment,” Tasha pointed out, “And your credit cards. Besides, Nicki, Johnny and Quick might still find them in time for you to go.”
Val brightened, reluctantly. “I suppose so,” she considered. After a moment, her eyes widened. “But I didn’t pick anything to wear yet!”
Tasha held back from rolling her eyes, but only just, as Val bounced to her feet, newly re-energised and already discarding clothing choices out loud. She watched her nearly skipping away and could only hope the others came through.