Drabbletag - Useful
Title: Fishing For Opportunity
Prompt: Drabbletag 5 - Useful
Fandom: Hairspray
Pairing: Velma/Tracy
Rating: G
Word count: 250
Several years on from the Miss Teenage Hairspray debacle, and Velma still can’t shake the fallout. Humiliated on live television, disgraced by that vulgar brat and her hideous mother.
She’s considered moving, but hell if Miss Baltimore Crabs is gonna be run out of town by some overweight teenager in an ill-fitting muumuu. So she’s stuck where she is, working the only network job she can still get, managing the shipping reports live from the docks at three in the morning.
All her shoes smell like fish, for Christ’s sake.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, it seems. So when she runs into Tracy again, she bites her tongue. She doesn’t scream, or curse, or attack.
Instead Velma smiles sweetly and says, “Tracy, you look well.”
It’s actually the truth. Tracy looks good, well-groomed with glowing skin. Maybe she always looked like that, maybe Velma was too blinded by hatred to see it. But she’d rather believe Tracy grew better looking on Velma’s suffering.
Tracy gives her a suspicious look, but she doesn’t turn away. “Are you doing well, Ms Von Tussle?”
Velma tosses her hair, laughing smugly. “Oh, very busy, you know how it is.” She presses her card into Tracy’s hand. “We should catch up - give me a call.”
Velma’s never been above sleeping her way into power, and Tracy’s undeniable fame could be rather useful.
Still, when she finds herself waiting by the phone, Velma has to admit it’s not just Tracy’s connections she’s interested in.
Prompt: Drabbletag 5 - Useful
Fandom: Hairspray
Pairing: Velma/Tracy
Rating: G
Word count: 250
Several years on from the Miss Teenage Hairspray debacle, and Velma still can’t shake the fallout. Humiliated on live television, disgraced by that vulgar brat and her hideous mother.
She’s considered moving, but hell if Miss Baltimore Crabs is gonna be run out of town by some overweight teenager in an ill-fitting muumuu. So she’s stuck where she is, working the only network job she can still get, managing the shipping reports live from the docks at three in the morning.
All her shoes smell like fish, for Christ’s sake.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, it seems. So when she runs into Tracy again, she bites her tongue. She doesn’t scream, or curse, or attack.
Instead Velma smiles sweetly and says, “Tracy, you look well.”
It’s actually the truth. Tracy looks good, well-groomed with glowing skin. Maybe she always looked like that, maybe Velma was too blinded by hatred to see it. But she’d rather believe Tracy grew better looking on Velma’s suffering.
Tracy gives her a suspicious look, but she doesn’t turn away. “Are you doing well, Ms Von Tussle?”
Velma tosses her hair, laughing smugly. “Oh, very busy, you know how it is.” She presses her card into Tracy’s hand. “We should catch up - give me a call.”
Velma’s never been above sleeping her way into power, and Tracy’s undeniable fame could be rather useful.
Still, when she finds herself waiting by the phone, Velma has to admit it’s not just Tracy’s connections she’s interested in.