FF: Lahboob Appreciation Society's Annual Meeting
Fandom: Bad Girls / LJ
Pairing: Hints Helen/Nikki
A/N: This is all zennie and cabenson's fault. Nothing to do with me, whatsoever. And this will make little sense unless you're familiar with the latter of the two. Apologies in advance.
Helen peered cautiously into the cavernous auditorium, before retracing her steps and ducking into the ladies' room. She'd known agreeing to this appearance had been a mistake, and if she hadn't been trying to avoid another of the increasingly bloody femslash characters' meetings, she wouldn't have touched it with a barge pole. Three hundred screaming women, each vying for a chance to look down her top, and bask in the glory that was 'Lahboob', before mobbing her for autographs and offering to take Nikki's place in her heart and bed.
"Would serve Nikki right," she muttered, putting another safety-pin in her top in the vain hope that it would stop the article in question from being ripped from her body and sold on eBay like all the others.
A toilet flushed, and before Helen could disappear into a vacant stall, a woman dressed in a striped jersey and baggy trousers, reminiscent of prisoners in old black and white movies, came rushing out. With a squeal and a charge, the woman threw herself onto Helen, and began raining frenzied kisses across her exposed chest.
Helen staggered back, her arms instinctively going to the woman's shoulders, in a futile attempt to dislodge the limpet-like woman from her skin. Five, ten, fifteen minutes later, the overly excited woman came up for air, and Helen took the opportunity to break the death-grip that had held her captive.
Helen crossed her arms, and stared daggers at the heavily breathing woman, until the Lahboob-haze left her eyes and was replaced with an embarrassed blush. "Nice to see you again, CB." Helen smiled, her arms clamped even tighter around her chest.
"Lahboob," CB giggled. "Lahboob, Lahboob, Lahboob!"
"Quite warm for this time of year." Helen wondered if it was too late to pop to Marks and pick up a polo-neck jumper. "Humid."
"Lahboob, Lahboob, Lahboob!"
"Nikki said to send her love." That was a blatant lie, what Nikki had actually said was that if that damn Yank touches the 'Lahboobs' once more, she was going to chop off her hands and feed them to Dockley. But there was no use arguing over semantics. "She's sorry she missed you."
"Lahboob?"
Helen sighed. "H - E - L - E - N," she enunciated.
"Lahboob?"
It was a lost cause. She'd seen this type of 'Lahboob' induced hysteria before and it wasn't pretty. She pulled out her mobile and quickly dialled Nikki's number.
"You need to get here, now!" ... "I don't care if Alex has Gabby in a headlock." ... "Put twenty quid on the Amazon and get your arse over here!"
The pitch of Helen's voice kicked CB's obsession into high gear, and she began singing 'Lahboob, Lahboob, Lahboob-boob' at the top of her lungs.
Helen held the phone out to the woman, and within seconds Nikki had abandoned her meeting and commandeered a police escort to drive her to the auditorium. Until she arrived, Helen could do nothing but clutch her chest, and join in the chorus...
"Lahboob, Lahboob-boob-boob, Lahboob!"
Pairing: Hints Helen/Nikki
A/N: This is all zennie and cabenson's fault. Nothing to do with me, whatsoever. And this will make little sense unless you're familiar with the latter of the two. Apologies in advance.
Helen peered cautiously into the cavernous auditorium, before retracing her steps and ducking into the ladies' room. She'd known agreeing to this appearance had been a mistake, and if she hadn't been trying to avoid another of the increasingly bloody femslash characters' meetings, she wouldn't have touched it with a barge pole. Three hundred screaming women, each vying for a chance to look down her top, and bask in the glory that was 'Lahboob', before mobbing her for autographs and offering to take Nikki's place in her heart and bed.
"Would serve Nikki right," she muttered, putting another safety-pin in her top in the vain hope that it would stop the article in question from being ripped from her body and sold on eBay like all the others.
A toilet flushed, and before Helen could disappear into a vacant stall, a woman dressed in a striped jersey and baggy trousers, reminiscent of prisoners in old black and white movies, came rushing out. With a squeal and a charge, the woman threw herself onto Helen, and began raining frenzied kisses across her exposed chest.
Helen staggered back, her arms instinctively going to the woman's shoulders, in a futile attempt to dislodge the limpet-like woman from her skin. Five, ten, fifteen minutes later, the overly excited woman came up for air, and Helen took the opportunity to break the death-grip that had held her captive.
Helen crossed her arms, and stared daggers at the heavily breathing woman, until the Lahboob-haze left her eyes and was replaced with an embarrassed blush. "Nice to see you again, CB." Helen smiled, her arms clamped even tighter around her chest.
"Lahboob," CB giggled. "Lahboob, Lahboob, Lahboob!"
"Quite warm for this time of year." Helen wondered if it was too late to pop to Marks and pick up a polo-neck jumper. "Humid."
"Lahboob, Lahboob, Lahboob!"
"Nikki said to send her love." That was a blatant lie, what Nikki had actually said was that if that damn Yank touches the 'Lahboobs' once more, she was going to chop off her hands and feed them to Dockley. But there was no use arguing over semantics. "She's sorry she missed you."
"Lahboob?"
Helen sighed. "H - E - L - E - N," she enunciated.
"Lahboob?"
It was a lost cause. She'd seen this type of 'Lahboob' induced hysteria before and it wasn't pretty. She pulled out her mobile and quickly dialled Nikki's number.
"You need to get here, now!" ... "I don't care if Alex has Gabby in a headlock." ... "Put twenty quid on the Amazon and get your arse over here!"
The pitch of Helen's voice kicked CB's obsession into high gear, and she began singing 'Lahboob, Lahboob, Lahboob-boob' at the top of her lungs.
Helen held the phone out to the woman, and within seconds Nikki had abandoned her meeting and commandeered a police escort to drive her to the auditorium. Until she arrived, Helen could do nothing but clutch her chest, and join in the chorus...
"Lahboob, Lahboob-boob-boob, Lahboob!"