Writing Class

--4 Days Later--


“Yeah I don’t know yet. But thank dad for the boxes for me,” Miranda says, dragging two huge boxes into her bedroom. She had come home to find seven huge cardboard boxes all over her living room. The hard part will be picking them up once they’re full.

She says goodbye to her mom and flips the phone shut, tossing it onto her bed. Finn calls twice a day, once in the morning and once at night, to update her on what’s going on. He’s given her three different speeches as to why she should move in with him and Vincent. At first, the whole idea seemed a little strange, but it’s beginning to look like it could work. Of course, she wouldn’t be living there forever, just until she gathers enough income to run steady.

She got the book store job, getting the call yesterday, and she starts on Monday. That gives her the weekend to figure out what she’s going to do. Wherever she moves, she’s moving, so she figured she may as well start to pack her things up.

She sets one of the boxes on her bed and begins transferring the contents of the bookshelf into the box. Glancing at her phone, she finds it odd that she hasn’t gotten a call from Finn yet. It’s already way past noon and he usually calls earlier. She shrugs, not wanting to worry herself and decides to assume that he just got busy. She turns to her small CD player and presses play. Instantly, Nick Cave’s graveled voice singing \'Stagger Lee\' comes through the speakers and she can’t help but crack a small smile.

After an hour, she’s put all of her books and movies away into boxes. Looking around at her walls, she is not looking forward to taking down all of her posters and everything else she’s acquired through the years. It will probably be the last thing that she gets around to doing.

She turns the music up so she’ll be able to hear it in the kitchen. Her stomach began growling twenty minutes ago and now it’s just plain pissed.

Leaving what she’s doing unfinished, she walks into the kitchen and swings the refrigerator door open. Leaning forward to study her choices, she settles on cold pizza from two days ago. Stacy ordered it so it has pineapple chunks littered throughout, not Miranda’s first choice in toppings but she can suffer through it for the sake of her stomach. She doesn’t bother heating it up, almost preferring it cold.

Just as she takes her first bite, the doorbell rings. She moves the few steps that it takes to get to her front door, and swings it open with her free hand. She immediately jumps back a step, almost dropping the piece of pizza in her hand. A giant moose head fills her open doorway and scanning down, she sees legs clad in black jeans.

She opens her mouth to say something, but just closes it again, not knowing what to say to a giant moose head. The head takes a step back and turns to the side, revealing a smiling Vincent.

“What…the hell…is that?” Miranda asks slowly, staring at the furry head in his arms.

“Isn’t she lovely?” he asks, squeezing it in through the doorway. Miranda jumps back when it gets too close, and gives Vincent and his…friend lots of space.

Arms wrap around her stomach and she spins around, coming face to face with Finn. Her eyes are first drawn to his shockingly red hair in surprise. Shaking her head, she relaxes and looks back at Vincent, wearing a grimace.

“Hey dear,” Finn kisses her temple and moves away, closing the front door.

Miranda watches Vincent move her things off the kitchen table. She knows what he’s planning on doing, but can’t bring herself to say anything.

“Vince, not there,” Finn says. Vincent ignores him and plants the head in the middle of the table. He rotates it slightly, centering it, and than steps back to survey his work.

Finn groans in disapproval and Miranda pats his arm reassuringly, “It’s okay, I was planning on burning that table anyway.”

“You two didn’t actually kill…that…did you?” she asks hesitantly, already having crazy fantasies involving Finn in a safari hat and Vincent with a large gun.

“I would never bring harm to another living creature!” Vincent defends, seemingly shocked that she would even suggest such a thing.

“We bought it for you,” Finn says simply, wearing a huge smile.

“What?”

“For the occasion,” Vincent fills in.

“Again…what?”

“We’re all gonna be flat mates!” Vincent pats her on the back, a little too harshly, and helps himself to the forgotten piece of pizza hanging from her hand. She doesn’t grab it back, forgetting about her hunger.

“I do not want a moose head,” she says, glancing between Finn and Vincent.

“She has a name Rand,” Finn scolds.

“Sophia,” Vincent supplies.

Miranda stares blankly at him and he adds, “She’s exotic.”

She doesn’t care what her name is, she does not want a dead moose anywhere near her. Miranda has never been one for collecting dead animals and posing them around her home. It’s creepy, she imagines that they would stare at her and follow her movements. Much like those paintings and head busts in \'The Haunted Mansion\' at \'Disney Land\'.

“You don’t want our generous gift?” Finn asks, his voice sounding hurt.

“Ummm…seeing as how the generous gift is actually a severed head…no thank you.”

“What is this?” Vincent asks suddenly, pointing up, gesturing to the music playing from her bedroom.

“Music.”

“Are they all about death?”

“Pretty much.”

“I like it,” he says with such conviction and a nod of his head.

She laughs a little and turns to Finn, who’s leaning casually against the wall and she can’t help but notice how well he fits in with her apartment.

“When did you guys get back and…the hair?”

“This morning and we got bored yesterday,” Finn answers with a grin.

“This morning, why didn’t you call?”

“We spent it moving his stuff into my flat, arsed about for a bit, than bob’s your uncle, we came for you,” Vincent says, excitement lacing his voice and arm motions. Miranda has no idea what he could possibly be so damn happy about.

“You know those identity theft commercials, the ones that put the cheerleader voice coming from that bloated drunk chap?” Vincent asks absently, walking around her blank living room.

Miranda glances at Finn, but he seems unsurprised at Vincent’s question. Looking back to Vincent, she says, “Yeah.”

Vincent doesn’t respond, obviously having made his point. Miranda just wishes she knew what that point was. She thinks about asking, but decides against it with a shake of her head.

“Anyway,” Finn says pointedly, “we’re here to help you move.”

Miranda doesn’t know what she’s supposed to say. Apparently it’s been decided that she is in fact moving in to Vincent’s place. She’s thought about it a lot and it seems like it’ll work, so she doesn’t see the point in arguing.

“Well I started to box up some books and whatnot, I didn’t get very far,” she says. “Do you have a truck or something, for the big things?”

“Rented a moving truck, it’s covered,” Finn says.

“Right, you lot are borin’ my tits off. Let’s get off already,” Vincent laughs at his own sexual innuendo and adds, “Now direct me to your unmentionables.”


--Midnight--


Miranda had expected the moving process to take longer than it did. Finn and Vincent both turned out to be very hard little workers. They were both a little distracted when it actually came time to pack her ‘unmentionables’. Instead of taking everything out of her dresser, she left her underwear and bras inside of it. After that, it went a lot quicker.

It took her a moment to get used to Finn’s new hair color, but she has to admit that it works for him. She has a feeling that any hair color would work on him. She hasn’t really thought about what living in the same house as him will mean. All she can think is ‘easy access’ and she doesn’t know if she can trust herself. Granted, she will have her own room to hide in, but she also has the ability to leave said room.

The whole idea of living in the same house with Vincent is also a little overwhelming. He’s already warned her about the many women that will be showing up at all hours.

The thing that worries her is what if she ends up staying there? What happens when Finn leaves for London? Or what would happen if something went wrong before hand? She’s good at tossing her worries aside until they worm their way back up, so she decides to do just that.

“Need any help?”

Miranda turns around at Finn’s voice. He’s standing in her doorway and she can’t stop the smile. She doesn’t know if there’s anything she wouldn’t find adorable about Finn.

“Nah, I don’t think I’m going to unpack everything tonight. I’ll do it tomorrow,” she says, turning back to her new room. The only thing she needs is her bed, which is already sitting in the middle of her new room. The room is larger than her previous bedroom, so she’s happy. It’s painted a bright blue and she has a feeling that Vincent painted the house himself. Every room is a different color. She likes the blue and is glad he hadn’t painted this room pink. She doesn’t know if there is a pink room in his house, but she really wouldn’t be surprised. Her closet is a walk-in, bigger than she needs, but now she won’t really need her dresser. It’s also painted yellow. Bright…yellow.

The only thing she wished her bedroom had was its own bathroom. Granted, that’s asking a lot, but sharing a bathroom with Finn is slightly unbearable. She can already see herself accidentally walking in on him naked. She can’t think of it as a bad thing though. Finn’s bedroom is also connected to the bathroom. The whole setup reminds her of The Brady Bunch. At least it’s not Vincent she’s sharing one with.

“Did you miss me?” Finn asks, pressing his chest into her back and running his hands down her arms.

“Ummm…a little,” she says lightly, not reacting to his touch, but not stepping away.

“Only a little?”

“Well did you miss me?”

“Every time I breathed,” he says softly in her ear.

She laughs a little at his admission, “Wow you’re good.”

She can feel his chest move before she can actually hear the laughing. He steps back and moves around her, sitting down on her bed, “I thought that was pretty good.”

The image of him on her bed is very powerful and she busies herself with moving boxes around. Everything is kind of just sitting in the middle of the room; bookshelf, desk, bed. She has to decide where she wants everything to go. It doesn’t really matter though, she constantly moves her things around, wanting change.

“So we should set some ground rules,” Finn says seriously. She turns to face him, noticing his firm expression and crosses her arms across her chest, waiting for him to explain.

“I know you will be tempted to sneak a peek,” he says, spreading his arms out at his sides, “I mean, who wouldn’t? But there is one thing you don’t know about me, therefore, you should always knock before walking into my room. Same goes for the bathroom. Knocking is key. As well as knocking, you may want to loudly announce your approach.”

Miranda finds it hard to keep the smile off her face, finding his rules ludicrous, “Do you have a dirty little secret?”

“Dirty? Yes. Little? Hardly. Secret? Not really.”

She raises her eyebrows, waiting for him to reveal his point. When he doesn’t say anything, she is forced to press the subject, “Well?”

“I have been known to…frequently…pleasure myself.”

Her jaw drops open, fully not having expected that answer, “How frequent is your idea of frequently?”

“Well I’ve never made it past twenty-five.”

“Twenty-five? In one day!?” she shouts, eye wide. She has never heard of someone masturbating that many times in one day. That is insane and she doesn’t know if she can even believe him.

“Well that isn’t everyday. It really does vary. On a normal day it’s only four or five times,” he says with a small smile.

“You’re joking right?”

“No, why? How many times do you?”

“I am not telling you that. But I can definitely say it’s not twenty-five times,” she says.

“Pity.”

“I’m sorry Finn, but I think you may be a little freakish.”

“Considering what that would mean for a lady friend, I don’t think most women would complain,” he says arrogantly. He stands up and leaves her room without another word. She frowns at the empty door, having realized his intent with that little admission of his. He’s trying to taunt her, get under her skin. And god help her, it’s working.

She stomps after him, following him down the hall and into the large living room. “You’re just saying that to get to me,” she says.

Without turning, Finn says, “So you admit that I get to you?”

She flicks the back of his head and darts to the side to move around him, making sure to stay far away from his reach. He makes a move to grab her, but she manages to get away before he can succeed. She throws herself down on the couch, bumping into Vincent, who frowns at her and moves over to give them both more room.

Miranda has a feeling that she’ll be very comfortable living in Vincent’s house. Being an actual house, it’s much larger than her apartment. The second floor is basically just Vincent’s bedroom with his bathroom. He has no door, it just opens up to his room. When he was talking about his lady friends, Miranda made a mental note to not walk up those stairs without announcing herself loudly. She does not want to walk in in on something she does not want to be seeing.

The living room is spacious, complete with everything anyone would ever need in the terms of media entertainment. The kitchen is also pretty nice, even though Miranda doesn’t really find kitchens all that appealing. It’s definitely not the room she would look at first when buying a house. Besides that, there’s an extra room that Vincent turned into his game room. Pool table and dart board, a bar and whatever else he has hiding in there.

His family is apparently rather wealthy and unlike Finn, his parents have no problems funding his living without asking for something in return. Miranda gets the feeling that all of Finn’s friends are rather well-off income wise. However, Vincent insisted that he pays for everything on the inside. Miranda didn’t want to ask how he does that.

“So what are we watching?” Miranda asks Vincent, clearly ignoring Finn’s glare.

Vincent doesn’t answer, instead he shushes her and points to the screen. She doesn’t ask again and tries to grasp what is so transfixing. Once she begins listening to what is being said and done, she immediately loves it. Finn sits in a recliner and watches, leaning forward.

“What’s the challenge? How long can Spenny endure Kenny’s torture while blindfolded?” Finn asks once it breaks for commercials.

“Who can wear a blindfold the longest,” Vincent says with a laugh.

“Oh he’s going to hell,” Finn says with a grin.

“Okay what is it?” Miranda can’t stand not knowing. Right before it went to commercial, it flashed the title, but she wants details.

“\'Kenny VS Spenny\' is the best thing to come out of television since the \'A-Team\',” Finn says proudly, as if he is responsible for it’s excellence.

After a brief explanation as to the nature of the show, Miranda decided that she shall forever be an avid lover of Kenny VS Spenny. They watched the rest of the episode in relative silence, not counting the loud laughter and the occasional ‘he is so going to hell’ comment.


--An Hour Later--


“Hate to say it love birds, but I’m bloody well knackered,” Vincent announces, walking into the living room. After the show ended, he disappeared into the rest of the house and Miranda stayed on the couch. She spent that half hour trading quips with Finn.

“Night,” Miranda says with a smile. “And thanks again for letting me live here.”

Vincent shakes his head as if to say that she’s being dumb. Finn waves him off as a ‘goodnight’ as Vincent retreats up the stairs.

“Actually I think I’ll go to sleep too,” Miranda decides. She stands up and stretches slightly, letting a small yawn escape.

“Lightweights.”

She’s actually not too tired, but she wants to try and sleep. A lot has happened in one day and she needs to digest it all. She doesn’t think she can do that with Finn staring at her.

She leaves the job of turning the TV and lights off to Finn and goes into her room. Shutting the door, she glances around her room, just now realizing that her clothes are in boxes. She didn’t label them either. She doesn’t feel like rooting through the boxes so she decides to just sleep in her bra and underwear and remember to lock her door.

She walks around her room, stepping over all of her stuff, and finally finds her duffle bag. Unzipping it, she finds her toothbrush and paste and stumbles her way to the bathroom door. Pushing it open, the first thing she sees is Finn standing at the sink in his underwear with a bright purple toothbrush hanging from his mouth.

She only takes a second to compose herself, saying, “Manly toothbrush.”

“Only real men like purple and you didn‘t knock,” he says, only it comes out sounding garbled. “You’re lucky I decided to freshen up before I took care of things.”

“Right,” she says mockingly, nodding her head slowly, and moves to her own sink. Setting down her own teeth cleaning utensils, she goes back to her duffle bag and finds her mouth wash and grabs her face wash while she’s at it. Unzipping another compartment, she finds a cheap plastic headband and a hair clip. Going back to the bathroom, she sets her things down and pulls her hair up. Messily clipping it up, she grabs the head band and slides it on, pushing the stray hairs away from her face. Glancing in the mirror, she meets Finn’s wide eyes and furrowed brows.

“What?”

“Never pictured you domestic before. It’s creepy.”

“Bite me,” she responds.

“Don’t tempt me,” he mutters, spitting out toothpaste foam and leaning over to suck water off the tap. She watches him rinse his mouth out and can’t help but smile. His shoulders roll back when he stands up and she averts her eyes, concentrating on brushing her own teeth. Instead of leaving the bathroom, he stays standing there. He turns around and pulls himself up on the counter sitting back against the mirror. Crossing his arms against his chest, he watches her with a grin.

She’s determined to ignore him and continues to brush her teeth. When finished with her teeth, she brushes her tongue and spits into the sink. Taking care of the mouthwash portion, she spits it out and cups her hands under the water. She glances up at him and quickly looks back down. She hates when he’s smug without having a reason to be. She doesn’t hurry and washes her face at a normal pace, not wanting his smile to grow.

When she’s done, she dries her face off with the towel hanging from the shower door and takes the head band off. Screwing the top back on the toothpaste, she pushes all of her stuff back against the wall and turns to Finn.

“I need to pee.”

“That is wonderful news Rand. I was worried that you were all plugged up.”

“Don’t be a smart ass.”

“You hope I never stop,” he responds quickly. He grabs her elbow and pulls her towards him, maneuvering her to stand between his knees. She crosses her arms against her chest, trying to place a barrier between them, wanting to annoy him. He ignores her arms and pulls her flush against him, wrapping his arms around her unwilling body.

“I really did miss you,” he says quietly, his chin resting on the top of her head.

She sighs heavily, hating him for saying something that crushed her will to be stubborn. She uncrosses her arms and wraps them around his waist, resting her cheek on his chest and enjoying the way he feels against her.

“You think I should have gone with green?” He pulls back slightly and motions to his hair. She scrunches her nose in deep concentration and shakes her head, “Maybe blue would have been better.”

“Mean.”

“You asked,” she laughs. “I love your hair, I’m kidding.”

“I can’t believe you caved so quickly,” he says, leaning away from her and dropping his arms to his sides.

“Oh shut up,” she pulls him forward and rests her cheek against his chest again. He laughs and replaces his arms. She didn’t realize how much she missed him until he came back. The sense of relief she feels now is shocking, she never imagined feeling this way about anyone. While growing up she was never the one boys chased around, she had some that liked her, but for the most part they were uninterested. She never minded, she was never too interested in them either. After time they began to become repetitive and she hated not guessing. It was too easy to forget about them when they weren’t by her side. She was the friend, not the girlfriend, and she has always been fine with that. But with Finn, she misses him when he’s not around and she likes having that feeling. She never realized how lonely she was until she wasn’t any longer. She doesn’t want to wake up alone any more.

“You okay?”

Finn’s voice brings her to the surface and she loosens her grip on his back, surprised that she was gripping him at all. Wiping her face clean of any strange emotions that he may be able to pick up on, she looks up at him and smiles.

“I’m just a bit surprised that I missed you so much,” she says, proud of telling the truth in such a way that he won’t question the rest.

“Why?” he asks curiously, his face open for whatever answer she has.

“I’m just not used to it, I didn’t know that I would.”

“Sounds like I should be taking that as a compliment.”

“That you should be,” she steps out of his arms and unclips her hair, twisting it back up tighter than before and reclipping it. “And I should go to sleep.”

He hops off the counter and plants a light kiss on her forehead, “Night darling.”

“Night sweet tits,” she says, kissing his chest lightly and walking into her room, shutting the bathroom door behind her. Just as the door shuts she recalls her need to pee and waits until she hears his door shut before going back into the bathroom.


--The Following Morning--


Miranda watches Vincent parade about the kitchen, fully pleased with himself for having snatched the last piece of toast. She doesn’t know if she should tell him that she’s not hungry any longer. She already ate three pieces with her eggs. She had three eggs, it’s only logical that she have three pieces of toast to go with it.

She woke up at around eight, finding Vincent already awake. They decided not to wait for Finn to wake and made themselves breakfast. Cooking with Vince is an interesting experience. She had to make her own eggs because he was insisting upon making them his own way if he was to make them at all. She saw what he put in his eggs. She definitely made her own.

The one thing that Vincent didn’t have was something to drink with breakfast. No milk or juice or anything that one would automatically link with breakfast foods. He does have a large amount of alcohol and soda. So Vincent is sucking down a Coke and Miranda is just drinking water.

“How long have you two been up?”

Miranda turns around in her chair to see a very messy Finn. He must have slept in a wonderful position, considering that his hair to stuck out to the right. He’s rubbing sleep out of his eyes and stifles a yawn with the back of his hand. Scratching his bare chest, he wanders over to the table and sits down.

“Morning star shine,” Vincent says cheerfully, taking a bite from the toast in his hand, “the Earth says hello.”

Miranda hides her smile behind her hand, watching Finn’s eyes scan the empty plates. A frown mars his face instantly, and he looks at Miranda accusingly. She shrugs and looks away, taking a sip of her water.

He glances at Vincent, and than down to the toast. Before Vincent knows what happened, Finn is stuffing the toast in his mouth triumphantly.

“Bullocks!”

“I’m glad you’re having a laugh,” Vincent says, pointing at Miranda, who’s trying her hardest to conceal that very thing. When it’s obvious that there’s no point, she stops hiding it and laughs openly.

“Don’t have a hissy fit now Vincent,” Finn says.

“Fuck off,” Vincent makes a show of getting up and leaving the room, doing it all very loudly while cursing under his breath. Miranda laughs even harder at this.

“I can’t believe you guys didn’t make me anything.”

“There’s still some eggs left, you just have to cook them.”

“Don’t be a smart ass Rand,” Finn chastises.

“You like it,” she accuses, getting up to set the dirty plates in the sink. She rinses them off quickly and puts them in their place in the dishwasher. Turning around to face Finn, who’s head is laying on the table with his eyes closed.

“Why are you so tired? Did you not sleep well?”

He grunts before verbalizing an answer, “No, not well.”

“Why’s that?”

“You were in the next room and all I wanted was to be in that room.”

She doesn’t say anything, again being thrown by his answer. She sometimes forgets about his blatant honesty. Composing herself, she decides to have some fun and walks around to his back. She rests her hands on his shoulders, feeling his muscles flinch. Slowly at first, she begins softly massaging across his shoulders and down his back. He sighs and relaxes his shoulders, dropping them. Taking another step, she leans down and places soft kisses across the back of his neck.

“Continue with what your doing and it’s all I can do to stop myself from fucking you on this table,” he says gruffly. She laughs softly and slides her hands up to his head, running her fingers through his hair.

“I’m serious Miranda.”

Laughing, she steps away and sits back in her chair, a smile on her face. All he does is stare at her, his wants being made apparent. She ignores her body’s reaction and drinks the rest of her water.

Vincent pops his head around the corner, “You two up for a sandwich?”

“We just ate,” Miranda points out.

“Not speaking in the terms of digestion,” he says with a smirk, disappearing from sight.

“Your friend is a freak.”

“He’s referring to a threesome,” Finn clarifies.


--The Next Day--


“Well I like this one,” Finn says, holding up a red lace thong.

“I don’t need underwear, I don’t need bras. I don’t wear garter belts and I don’t sleep in lace teddies. Give it up Finn,” Miranda says with a smile.

She made the mistake of mentioning that she was running over to \'Victoria’s Secret\' and Finn immediately included himself. Thankfully, Vincent wasn’t home. She wouldn’t want to fend off the advances of both boys in the middle of a lingerie store. All she wanted to do was make a quick trip to buy some more of the perfume she likes. It’s the only fruity scent she’s grown fond of and she ran out a few days ago. It was strange. She’s never run out of a perfume before. Probably because she always ends up buying a new bottle before she really needs one and uses the new one. She’s the same way with lotion.

Ignoring Finn, she leaves him with the thongs and makes her way over to the other side of the store. Quickly finding her perfume, she turns back to look for Finn. After a few seconds, she spots him talking to a sales clerk and also notices the lingerie in his hand. Quickly going to his side, she catches the tail-end of their conversation.

“She’s just a tad bit shy about how she looks. I really appreciate this,” Finn says, the charm turned on full force.

“You seem honest enough,” the woman giggles. Miranda can’t stop from frowning at her. She’s touching Finn’s arm and giggling like she should be in pig tails.

Finn turns toward Miranda and a huge smile breaks out, he wraps his free arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side. Planting a kiss on her temple, he says, “She said it would be fine sweetheart.”

“What?” Miranda asks, looking back and forth between the two. The sales clerk is grinning at Miranda as if she knows a secret and Miranda wants to poke her in the eye. Just one, so she has to wear a patch.

“Room four is open,” the sales clerk says before turning and walking away.

“Come on dear, room four,” Finn says cheerfully, using his arm around her shoulders to lead her towards the dressing rooms.

“Oh no, Finn I do not need any of that,” Miranda insists, resisting his lead.

“Don’t struggle peach pit, I know you’re shy about this, but it’s alright. You look stunning in everything.”

“She can’t hear you Finn, she left,” Miranda growls, pulling away from his grasp. All he does is laugh in response while he sets the articles down.

“You’re so predictable Rand,” he mocks, leaving her to disappear in the store.

She feels like kicking the bastard. Looking at what he set down, she laughs. He apparently knew that she wouldn’t try any of it on. She doesn’t even know where he found them. The one that sticks out the most has a string of beads attached, which she can only assume is supposed to go between the legs. Holding it up, she cocks her head to the side and can’t understand why it would be comfortable. Shaking her head, she drops it and makes her way towards the counter to pay for her perfume.

Finn is already at the counter and turns to leave just as she walks up. He takes her hand and spins her around toward the exit.

“No more thongs, I need to pay.”

“Taken care of.”

“What?”

“I took care of it. Mariah is a nice girl, she gave me 10% off.”

Miranda looks over her shoulder at the same sales clerk that she wanted to poke the eye out of. The woman is just watching them leave with a small smile and it’s obvious that if Finn had asked her to get on knees for him, she would.

“Well I need a bag,” she says.

“No you don’t. Don’t be difficult.”

The walk to his car is fairly quiet, not counting the bickering over whether or not she needed a bag.

After putting her seat belt on, she turns toward Finn, “See? I need a bag. I can’t just have it roll around. What if it breaks? Your car would reek. I’m sure it doesn’t smell nice in high doses.”

“You can’t hold it why?” he asks, turning the key in the ignition.

“What if we get in a head-on? It could smash and glass would rip into me. I would bleed to death in your car all because you wouldn’t let me have a bag,” she says with her best upset look.

Finn takes the bottle from her lap and places it in his, “I’ll take the risk myself. I wouldn’t want you to bleed to death.”

“That’s very nice of you Finley,” she says with a nod and a smile.

“So when do I get to meet your parents?” Finn asks after a few minutes of driving in silence.

“What?”

“It’s only fair. You met mine, which is nothing to brag about mind you, but it’s only right that I get to check out yours.”

“Why? Planning on asking for my hand?” she asks sarcastically.

“No, I thought I would start slow. Ask your dad if I had his permission to court you.”

“You actually want to meet them?” Miranda is somewhat shocked that he would ask to meet her parents. He can come off as a guy who doesn’t exactly want to commit and meeting the parentals is usually seen as a commitment gesture.

“Why not? I’m dying to find out if you’re the only freak,” he says with a smirk.

“Charming.”

“Doesn’t it just kill you?”

“It could.”


----


AN: Thank you to everyone for you lovely words. The updates are becoming more spaced out, but they won’t stop. Life gets in the way and lately I’ve been working on something else of mine that is a little more personal. It’s so much fun to write this story and I’m pleased that new people are finding it and the original readers are still reading. Thank you for your continued support. As usual, read and review.

The CD somewhat mentioned is called \'Murder Ballads\' and is by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. Every song on the record is about murder, except for the last one which is just about death in general, that\'s why Vincent asks if it\'s all about murder. Nick Cave is an interesting guy and I would recommend him.