July 2012
ooc: Future!fic roadtrip with Sally. Part 1. Part 2. skids_sally used with love and permission.
The tiny church was surprisingly not as tiny as he thought it would be. It was more mini than anything else, but Sally chattered away, taking pictures, making him pose next to things and he did it with a smile on his face.
He liked seeing her happy, liked seeing the smile cross her face. Too many times he'd called her up, only to hear a voice devoid of emotion. And that wasn't the Sally he knew or loved to tease. There was only one reason he could think of for the change in his Sally girl: the Bachlor.
Okay, so by now, he knew the guy's name was Julian, knew there was some weird friends with benefits thing going on between them but he could see Sally's reactions and he didn't like it. A smile belonged on Sally's face, always.
Later on, in the motel room, he was flipping through the channels, amusing himself with infomercials, when Sally stepped out of the shower, her long hair wrapped up in a towel. She was brushing her teeth and watching him. He carefully ignored her and continuing on his quest to find the most useless information as possible.
“Look Sally, we could solve all our problems if we bought a Magic Bullet. See how it brings families together and not apart? I bet if we had one of those, we wouldn't be running for our lives across the United States.”
Sally rolled her eyes. “Aren't I supposed to be the drama queen, Mr. Beachum? You're the one that's almost over the hill, you know.”
He winced. “First you choose a hamburger over me and now this? See if I ever act like your personal secretary again.”
She giggled, trying her best to keep the toothpaste froth in her mouth. “You're a dork,” she said, around a mouthful of toothpaste. Going into the bathroom, she finished up and flopped down on the twin bed. She took the towel off of her head, and started to dry it. No blow dryer in this motel and she'd forgotten to bring hers. “But speaking of that phone call, what did he say to you?” She tried to sound as nonchalant as possible but it didn't work.
Will smirked at her, turning the tv on mute. The happy people were making pesto sauce in the background - he could miss that. He didn't even know what pesto was. “He professed his undying love for you and challenged me to a duel at sunrise. We're bitchslapping at dawn.” She glared at him, and he laughed. “Fine. When I told him we were going to get married, he reminded me I was already married. Which is why I mentioned Utah. I've always thought I'd be a damn good polygamist you know. Will the polygamist. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?” A towel came flying at his head from the other bed and he chuckled, catching the towel easily. “He also mentioned something about how you're not a snuggler, but that can't be true. Can it? Is the great Sally, the kisser who haunts my dreams and drives a wedge in my happily married life, a terrible snuggler?”
“I'm an amazing snuggler,” she mumbled, throwing herself down on the bed. Curling up to her pillow, she pouted slightly. “I'm fantastic. And he's just jealous. Which is good. I say it is very good.”
“It absolutely is. Jealousy is a beautiful foundation for a non relationship,” he agreed, turning off the bedside lamp. The room was a lit by the glow of the television and for a moment, they laid there in companionable silence on their respective beds. “We're never going to talk about our fucked up relationships, are we, Sal,” he finally asked.
“You first,” came the muffled reply.
He made a face, knowing full well she couldn't see it in the dark. “Can we have this discussion over ice cream? I feel like a woman enough to admit that I can't do this without some sort of junk food.”
She thought for a moment. She wasn't really ready to discuss it herself, but if he would open up to her? Maybe. “I think I saw a sign for a circus in the next town, about three hours away from here.”
Turning to his side so he could face her, he nodded. “Sounds good to me. A circus should be just the easy, calm day we need to discuss our deep, darkest secrets. And afterwards? I'll let you paint my toenails.”
“Blue and sparkly?”
“You know it.”
The tiny church was surprisingly not as tiny as he thought it would be. It was more mini than anything else, but Sally chattered away, taking pictures, making him pose next to things and he did it with a smile on his face.
He liked seeing her happy, liked seeing the smile cross her face. Too many times he'd called her up, only to hear a voice devoid of emotion. And that wasn't the Sally he knew or loved to tease. There was only one reason he could think of for the change in his Sally girl: the Bachlor.
Okay, so by now, he knew the guy's name was Julian, knew there was some weird friends with benefits thing going on between them but he could see Sally's reactions and he didn't like it. A smile belonged on Sally's face, always.
Later on, in the motel room, he was flipping through the channels, amusing himself with infomercials, when Sally stepped out of the shower, her long hair wrapped up in a towel. She was brushing her teeth and watching him. He carefully ignored her and continuing on his quest to find the most useless information as possible.
“Look Sally, we could solve all our problems if we bought a Magic Bullet. See how it brings families together and not apart? I bet if we had one of those, we wouldn't be running for our lives across the United States.”
Sally rolled her eyes. “Aren't I supposed to be the drama queen, Mr. Beachum? You're the one that's almost over the hill, you know.”
He winced. “First you choose a hamburger over me and now this? See if I ever act like your personal secretary again.”
She giggled, trying her best to keep the toothpaste froth in her mouth. “You're a dork,” she said, around a mouthful of toothpaste. Going into the bathroom, she finished up and flopped down on the twin bed. She took the towel off of her head, and started to dry it. No blow dryer in this motel and she'd forgotten to bring hers. “But speaking of that phone call, what did he say to you?” She tried to sound as nonchalant as possible but it didn't work.
Will smirked at her, turning the tv on mute. The happy people were making pesto sauce in the background - he could miss that. He didn't even know what pesto was. “He professed his undying love for you and challenged me to a duel at sunrise. We're bitchslapping at dawn.” She glared at him, and he laughed. “Fine. When I told him we were going to get married, he reminded me I was already married. Which is why I mentioned Utah. I've always thought I'd be a damn good polygamist you know. Will the polygamist. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?” A towel came flying at his head from the other bed and he chuckled, catching the towel easily. “He also mentioned something about how you're not a snuggler, but that can't be true. Can it? Is the great Sally, the kisser who haunts my dreams and drives a wedge in my happily married life, a terrible snuggler?”
“I'm an amazing snuggler,” she mumbled, throwing herself down on the bed. Curling up to her pillow, she pouted slightly. “I'm fantastic. And he's just jealous. Which is good. I say it is very good.”
“It absolutely is. Jealousy is a beautiful foundation for a non relationship,” he agreed, turning off the bedside lamp. The room was a lit by the glow of the television and for a moment, they laid there in companionable silence on their respective beds. “We're never going to talk about our fucked up relationships, are we, Sal,” he finally asked.
“You first,” came the muffled reply.
He made a face, knowing full well she couldn't see it in the dark. “Can we have this discussion over ice cream? I feel like a woman enough to admit that I can't do this without some sort of junk food.”
She thought for a moment. She wasn't really ready to discuss it herself, but if he would open up to her? Maybe. “I think I saw a sign for a circus in the next town, about three hours away from here.”
Turning to his side so he could face her, he nodded. “Sounds good to me. A circus should be just the easy, calm day we need to discuss our deep, darkest secrets. And afterwards? I'll let you paint my toenails.”
“Blue and sparkly?”
“You know it.”