One Word (Desperate Housewives, Gaby/Edie)
Title: One Word
Author: irradiatedsoup
Recipient: mousiebean
Fandom: Desperate Housewives
Pairing: Gaby/Edie
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1024
Warnings: Spoilers up to 5x19
Summary: Every single moment has several different versions. Each pair of eyes remembers a different memory.
Every single moment has several different versions. Each pair of eyes remembers a different memory. Many stories are edited for taste, for timing and perhaps most importantly, for entertainment value.
Gabrielle Solis had sat in the back of Lynette's car, with the shiny canister of Edie sitting cold and slightly uncomfortably on her knees, as she had recounted the tale of the singles bar, the swizzle sticks and the swing set.
It was all the things a good story should be; sexy, funny, and it finished with a happy ending. Sure, Gaby had edited out a few details; like how she'd laughed when Edie had made that crack about Bree's hair (it had just slipped out by accident, really,) and how she'd actually (in a last minute panic,) picked up at least three swizzle sticks from the floor of the bar.
But all the most integral plot points were truthfully told, and that's what was important in the end after all. The fade to black, in her opinion, had been extremely classy and tasteful, so it wasn't really like Gaby was lying by omitting the very last part of her story from the agenda on their collective memory jaunt down Edie lane.
So to speak.
Everyone carries secrets with them and if they're good at keeping them, when they die their secrets are buried with them. It goes without saying that no one knew that particular fact better than the women who lived on Wisteria Lane.
There are all different kinds of secrets, of course; some secrets are large and life-changing, and some of them are just small, inconsequential and slightly awkward.
The incident that happened next, that particular night, was definitely of the latter type of secret, and only Edie and Gabrielle knew it. As Edie was unfortunately deceased there was no one left who could tell, or who could possibly judge Gaby for not telling her friends what had happened when Edie had gone back to her house for that drink.
Because honestly, it was fairly hard to remember it at all anyway. One drink that had turned into two, or five or possibly eleven. And then that had led to reminiscing about when they were younger and prettier, which had then graduated to hats and dancing on the sofa to Madonna; as though through becoming inebriated they had fallen into a rather kitschy and blurry VHS teen romp from the eighties. One minute Edie had been at her side dancing to 'Like A Prayer', and the next she was kissing Gaby on her mouth, hard and sort of angrily, really.
Gaby had still been feeling a bit competitive at this point, all things considered, so she'd grabbed hold of Edie's face and kissed her back with just as much enthusiasm, annoyance and tongue. It had only occurred to Gaby, when Edie had grabbed her left boob and breathed; "damn, these things are even smaller than they look", that things were possibly getting out of hand.
So to speak.
"Wait, wait, wait, what is going on here?" Gaby had asked, jerking back out of Edie's grip and crossing her arms over her maligned bosom protectively. "We can't do this!"
"Why not?" Edie had asked, not even having the decency to look slightly phased.
"Because we're friends!" Gaby had said, waving her arms a bit for emphasis. "Because friends don't ...be all sexy together!"
Edie had snorted. She actually snorted. "Oh come on, you're kidding, right? All that flirting earlier?'
"What?"
Edie had leaned in so close Gaby could see a little of her lipstick on Edie's upper lip. "You said I was hot."
"That doesn't mean---!" Gaby had interjected. "I also said Bree and Susan were hot, if you remember"
Edie's jaw had dropped. "Oh, no. You did not just put me in the same category as Meyer."
Gabrielle had held up her finger to stop that particular conversation from going any further.
"Edie, listen," Gabrielle had said. "You are very hot, and you're a fantastic - a very, very fine kisser, actually." Gaby had shook her head and tried to focus her eyes. "You're very fine and I'm very flattered, from the bottom of my heart I--"
"Okay, now you're getting weird on me, Solis," Edie had given her a slightly disgusted look. "I wanted to fool around, I didn't want to propose."
"I just--"
"Forget it, lady," Edie had said, shaking her head "You missed your chance."
Gaby had nodded and had sat down quietly on the sofa, the full effect of the alcohol seemingly hitting her all at once. Edie had walked slowly, teetering across the room, and was looking at the framed wedding picture of her and Carlos on the bureau. Gaby had meant to put it away, really. She had meant to. She just kept forgetting.
Edie had run her finger along the frame and tapped at the glass with her nails, offhandedly and unthinkingly. But the noise was loud and stark, like a starting gun, and seemed to change the air in the room. Edie's features had suddenly smoothed themselves into a picture of impeccable, sober calm, and all the while an uneasy, unplaced feeling had settled in Gaby's stomach.
Though, that obviously could have just been all the wine.
Gabrielle Solis sits in the back of Lynette's car, passes the shiny canister of Edie to Karen McClusky and leans against the window to watch the ground rush past underneath them. She thinks about all the little bits of the stories she hasn't told anyone; that would be buried with her too, when the time came. All the little bits she omitted from her life, that probably make up the truest picture of all.
Gaby's not even sure where the real story from that night ends herself. She must have fallen asleep quite soon after the kissing conversation, because the next thing Gabrielle knew for sure was her face was buried in the cushions on the sofa, there was drool on her chin, the dishwasher was running and Edie Britt was gone.
Gone.
It's one word to describe her, but it's not the one Gaby uses.
Author: irradiatedsoup
Recipient: mousiebean
Fandom: Desperate Housewives
Pairing: Gaby/Edie
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1024
Warnings: Spoilers up to 5x19
Summary: Every single moment has several different versions. Each pair of eyes remembers a different memory.
Every single moment has several different versions. Each pair of eyes remembers a different memory. Many stories are edited for taste, for timing and perhaps most importantly, for entertainment value.
Gabrielle Solis had sat in the back of Lynette's car, with the shiny canister of Edie sitting cold and slightly uncomfortably on her knees, as she had recounted the tale of the singles bar, the swizzle sticks and the swing set.
It was all the things a good story should be; sexy, funny, and it finished with a happy ending. Sure, Gaby had edited out a few details; like how she'd laughed when Edie had made that crack about Bree's hair (it had just slipped out by accident, really,) and how she'd actually (in a last minute panic,) picked up at least three swizzle sticks from the floor of the bar.
But all the most integral plot points were truthfully told, and that's what was important in the end after all. The fade to black, in her opinion, had been extremely classy and tasteful, so it wasn't really like Gaby was lying by omitting the very last part of her story from the agenda on their collective memory jaunt down Edie lane.
So to speak.
Everyone carries secrets with them and if they're good at keeping them, when they die their secrets are buried with them. It goes without saying that no one knew that particular fact better than the women who lived on Wisteria Lane.
There are all different kinds of secrets, of course; some secrets are large and life-changing, and some of them are just small, inconsequential and slightly awkward.
The incident that happened next, that particular night, was definitely of the latter type of secret, and only Edie and Gabrielle knew it. As Edie was unfortunately deceased there was no one left who could tell, or who could possibly judge Gaby for not telling her friends what had happened when Edie had gone back to her house for that drink.
Because honestly, it was fairly hard to remember it at all anyway. One drink that had turned into two, or five or possibly eleven. And then that had led to reminiscing about when they were younger and prettier, which had then graduated to hats and dancing on the sofa to Madonna; as though through becoming inebriated they had fallen into a rather kitschy and blurry VHS teen romp from the eighties. One minute Edie had been at her side dancing to 'Like A Prayer', and the next she was kissing Gaby on her mouth, hard and sort of angrily, really.
Gaby had still been feeling a bit competitive at this point, all things considered, so she'd grabbed hold of Edie's face and kissed her back with just as much enthusiasm, annoyance and tongue. It had only occurred to Gaby, when Edie had grabbed her left boob and breathed; "damn, these things are even smaller than they look", that things were possibly getting out of hand.
So to speak.
"Wait, wait, wait, what is going on here?" Gaby had asked, jerking back out of Edie's grip and crossing her arms over her maligned bosom protectively. "We can't do this!"
"Why not?" Edie had asked, not even having the decency to look slightly phased.
"Because we're friends!" Gaby had said, waving her arms a bit for emphasis. "Because friends don't ...be all sexy together!"
Edie had snorted. She actually snorted. "Oh come on, you're kidding, right? All that flirting earlier?'
"What?"
Edie had leaned in so close Gaby could see a little of her lipstick on Edie's upper lip. "You said I was hot."
"That doesn't mean---!" Gaby had interjected. "I also said Bree and Susan were hot, if you remember"
Edie's jaw had dropped. "Oh, no. You did not just put me in the same category as Meyer."
Gabrielle had held up her finger to stop that particular conversation from going any further.
"Edie, listen," Gabrielle had said. "You are very hot, and you're a fantastic - a very, very fine kisser, actually." Gaby had shook her head and tried to focus her eyes. "You're very fine and I'm very flattered, from the bottom of my heart I--"
"Okay, now you're getting weird on me, Solis," Edie had given her a slightly disgusted look. "I wanted to fool around, I didn't want to propose."
"I just--"
"Forget it, lady," Edie had said, shaking her head "You missed your chance."
Gaby had nodded and had sat down quietly on the sofa, the full effect of the alcohol seemingly hitting her all at once. Edie had walked slowly, teetering across the room, and was looking at the framed wedding picture of her and Carlos on the bureau. Gaby had meant to put it away, really. She had meant to. She just kept forgetting.
Edie had run her finger along the frame and tapped at the glass with her nails, offhandedly and unthinkingly. But the noise was loud and stark, like a starting gun, and seemed to change the air in the room. Edie's features had suddenly smoothed themselves into a picture of impeccable, sober calm, and all the while an uneasy, unplaced feeling had settled in Gaby's stomach.
Though, that obviously could have just been all the wine.
Gabrielle Solis sits in the back of Lynette's car, passes the shiny canister of Edie to Karen McClusky and leans against the window to watch the ground rush past underneath them. She thinks about all the little bits of the stories she hasn't told anyone; that would be buried with her too, when the time came. All the little bits she omitted from her life, that probably make up the truest picture of all.
Gaby's not even sure where the real story from that night ends herself. She must have fallen asleep quite soon after the kissing conversation, because the next thing Gabrielle knew for sure was her face was buried in the cushions on the sofa, there was drool on her chin, the dishwasher was running and Edie Britt was gone.
Gone.
It's one word to describe her, but it's not the one Gaby uses.