Writing Class

***1 Week Later - 11pm - Karaoke Bar***


“Next up we have…Krissy, Marc, and Vince singing…\'Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?\' and if it’s bad, I give you all permission to hurt them.”

Miranda rolls her eyes at the cheesy announcer, not being able to stand announcers in general. This guy takes his job far too seriously. Finn hooks his arm around Miranda’s shoulders, pulling her in close to his side in preparation for the ear bleeding rendition of the very popular tune. She has to respect Krissy and Vincent’s ability to make Marcus do things he doesn’t want to do. Vincent’s strategy is to put a few drinks in Marcus and Krissy relies on her feminine whiles. Combine the two and Marcus is a goner.

Miranda has never been to a karaoke bar before, she’s not the type to sing in front of people. Singing in her car is outgoing enough for her when it comes to public performances. She’s managed to stick to her guns and just say ‘no’ to the group, she’s the only one who hasn’t sung something yet. Finn has two under his belt, \'Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?\' and a duo with Vincent to the lovely song \'I’m Not Your Stepping Stone\'. Vincent has been up there so many times that Miranda lost count. One of his funniest performances was his version of \'I Believe I Can Fly\', in which he ripped his shirt open and got down on his knees. It was all very dramatic.

Krissy actually has a rather pleasant voice and she pleased the audience when she sang \'I Hear A Symphony\'. She had originally tried to get Miranda to sing it with her, but Miranda used the excuse of having strep throat and it was against her doctor’s orders. She doesn’t think anyone really believed her.

Miranda slides her chair closer to the table and leans her elbows on the dirty surface, excited to see the performance. The music starts and Finn immediately begins laughing at the look on Marcus’s face. But when it is Vincent who opens the song, singing femininely with an extremely high voice, Miranda loses it.

\"Give me time
To realize my crime
Let me love and steal
I have danced inside your eyes
How can I be real?\"

They all jump into the chorus with extreme vigor, even Marcus gets in to it after a few moments. The crowd is laughing along with Miranda and Finn, clearly enjoying the drunken musical stylings of the three performers.

“I don’t know if this was what Boy George meant,” Finn laughs, taking a drink from his mug. Miranda laughs in agreement, nodding her head, and leans against Finn.

---

“The crowd bloody well loves me,” Vincent says proudly, knocking back the last of his beer after he hops off the stage.

“That’s the last one,” Marcus asserts, sitting down next to Finn. “I refuse to placate you two any longer.”

“That’s what you say now,” Krissy says, distracted by the bartender. They’ve been passing each other ridiculous looks all night with Krissy being the first one to jump up and offer to get anyone a new drink.

Sighing, she looks back to the table and sinks down in her chair, “…Cute.”

Leaning forward, Miranda says, “Why don’t you just go ask him out? He’ll say yes.”

“What’s the big deal with this ponced up wanker?” Vincent asks.

“He’s beautiful,” Krissy says in an obvious tone.

“What makes this one so stunning Kris?” Finn asks.

“Does he not look like Spader to you?”

Finn glances over with a squint. In a second he groans and rubs his eyes, muttering, “Poor bastard.”

Miranda glances over at the bartended, tilting her head to one side. Now that it’s mentioned, she definitely sees a resemblance to James Spader.

“I don’t see it,” Marcus says, following Miranda’s lead and cocking his head to one side while studying the bartender. The man has obviously noticed he’s under an inspection and has started to fidget under the scrutiny.

“You’re gonna chew the poor guy up,” Finn says with a laugh, he picks up his beer and downs the last of it. Handing the mug over to Krissy, who takes it with a huge smile. She jumps up from her seat and practically bounces over to the bar.

“Too bad you don’t look like anyone famous Vince,” Miranda remarks.

“I’m British,” Vincent answers simply, alluding to that being all he needs.


**The Following Morning**


“Shit!” Miranda yells, kneeling to clean up the glass. Her alarm didn’t wake her and she woke up an hour past the time she wanted. Being in a hurry with the dishes, she dropped a glass on the kitchen floor. She collects the large pieces and throws them in the trash. Leaving, she hurries to the game room and pops her head around the corner.

“Hey Vince, do you have a dustpan and broom anywhere?”

Vincent purses his lips and rests the pool cue against his hip, “Ask lover boy.”

Sighing, she turns in the direction of Finn’s room and almost forgets to knock when she gets to the door. Smirking, she remembers his warning and taps on the door a few times. He better be awake, she woke him up half an hour ago and he said he’d get ready. Meeting her parents was all his idea and it was his idea to stay so late at the karaoke bar. Krissy took off before the rest of them, her Spader look-alike trailing behind her and surprisingly enough, Marcus stayed.

“You may enter.”

With a laugh she opens the door, “Do you know where a broom and dustpan are?”

Standing in the middle of his room, half dressed and scratching his unshaven jaw, he says, “It should be in the cabinet.”

“Which one?”

“In the hall? My guess.”

Nodding her head, she starts to close the door before swinging it back open, “You almost ready? We need to leave in ten minutes.”

“I just don’t know what to wear!” Finn says in a shrill voice and she’s sure that he is mocking her in some way.

He proves her hunch correct when he turns his butt towards her and asks, “Do I have a fat ass?”

Sticking her tongue out, she shuts the door. While walking away, she hears him shout, “I’m disgusting! That’s it! Diet time!”

After finding what she was looking for, she made sure to sweep up any trace of glass left on the floor. By the time she finishes, Finn strolls into the kitchen, grabbing an apple and leaving to grab his shoes by the front door.

“Anything I should know about them?”

“Like what?”

“Are they Nazis? Communists?” He shrugs, adding with a mysterious whisper, “Do they listen to country music?”

“No. Not any longer. And they’re more so the Bobby Darin type…although my dad has been known to boogey down to some Kenny G.”

“Kenny G.? That’s disgusting,” Finn laughs, holding the apple in his mouth while pulling his dirty red Converse shoes onto his feet and lacing them up.

“Nice to see that you’re dressing up,” she says sarcastically, also noticing that he didn’t bother to shave.

“Your parents will love me no matter what I wear. Besides, why wear something pretty when every time they see me after today I’ll be wearing this? It only leads to confusion.”

“Where we goin’?” Vincent asks, walking into the room with a large smile on his face.

“We’re going to my parent’s house for lunch, wanna come?” Miranda says sarcastically.

“While I’m sure your mum’s a sexy bird, I don’t meet parents,” he says with a disgusted look, suggesting that he’s insulted she even asked. She smiles, thankful that he didn’t take her up on the offer. She didn’t think that he would, but you never know with that one.


**20 Minutes Later**


“This is my mom, Karen. Mom, the roommate.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you Finn,” Karen says, shaking his offered hand.

“You too. I noticed that painting in the hallway, it’s amazing,” Finn says sweetly. Miranda can’t believe he said something about that. Already, she’s annoyed with him.

“I actually painted that myself.”

“Really? You’re really very good. Have you ever sold them?”

Miranda watches Finn with a smirk, she can’t believe what he’s doing. Here he is chatting her mom up when his parents hated her. That’s just wonderful. She sighs and leaves them both to talk.

Walking into the kitchen, she finds her dad, who’s standing over the sink, peeling an apple.

“Hey dad,” she says. He uses one arm to hug her and goes back to peeling the fruit.

“Where’s that roommate of yours?” he asks gruffly.

“Charming the pants off mom,” she says flippantly. She’s looking forward to Finn sitting down for a meal with her father. He’s harmless, but to a casual observer he can be intimidating. He’s not especially tall, but very wide and none of it is fat. He’s a poor man’s Bruce Willis, complete with the shaved head and same name. His voice is low and often a tad gruff sounding. Many of her male friends were a little apprehensive at first about her father. But after a few meetings, he’s not so frightening any longer.

Her mother is the complete opposite. She had the only mother in Junior High School that the kids actually didn’t mind going places with. Not once did Miranda receive socks or underwear for a Christmas present.

“So what’s on the menu?”

“You didn’t bring anything?” her dad asks with a worried voice. “You were supposed to bring the food, right?”

“No dad, be sane.”

“Hamburgers and fruit salad,” he relents. “You should ask your friend if he wants cheese or not.”

“He’ll want cheese,” Miranda says, remembering when he and Vincent ate a complete cheese lunch a few days earlier. Finn insisted on referring to everything as ‘cheesetastik’ for a whole day, including her ass. It seemed like a lifetime.

Finn wanders into the kitchen and immediately introduces himself to Miranda’s father, complete with a handshake.

“So my daughter lives with you?” Bruce asks.

“Yes she does,” Finn says with a nod.

They both seem to be okay with not talking and just stand in silence. Miranda watches Finn for outward signs of unease, but he seems perfectly relaxed. She’s jealous of his ability to do that and frowns in his direction.

Miranda grabs Finn’s wrist and leads him outside to the backyard, sitting down at the patio table.

“The old man’s a man of few words,” Finn says, standing behind Miranda and resting his hands on her shoulders. He slowly begins to kneed with fingers that know what they’re doing. She drops her head back and looks up at him, “Don’t try to seduce me at my parents’ house.”

“Who said that’s what I’m doing? I guess we all know where your mind resides...in the gutter.”

Finn leaves his position and walks around to the other side of the table, purposefully not sitting next to Miranda. She smiles at him from across the table and glances back at the door as her parents walk outside.

“I noticed the Katana’s you have hanging in the living room,” Finn says as Bruce takes a seat at the end of the table, “ Impressive collection.” Miranda internally groans, knowing that Finn just founds her dad’s weak point.

“He’s got them everywhere,” Karen says, pouring herself some lemonade from the pitcher on the table.

“What do you know of the subject?” Bruce asks, leaning forward.

“Not too much, just what I’ve picked up.”

Miranda didn’t know he had picked anything up and has no idea where he’s picked up this information. She watches him, waiting for an explanation along with her father.

“From your father?” Bruce asks.

“No, he’s not really one for participation. My interest started with fencing and I sort of branched out.”

Fencing? Miranda stares openly now, having had no idea that he knew how to fence. Leaning back in her seat, she resists the urge to shake her head. She has no doubt that her dad now loves Finn and will be pushing for their nuptials.

“Really? How did that start?”

“A friend of mine in High School started a club and I was the first member. No one else joined so we were really the only ones. A friend of mine, Vincent, our other roommate, tried it out once but only ended up in the hospital,” Finn says with a laugh.

Miranda laughs loudly at the image of Vincent with sharp objects. Ignoring his daughters outburst, Bruce asks, “Do you still do it?”

“Not as much anymore,” Finn shakes his head. “I participated in my fair share of tournaments, but college sort of took over after High School. I plan on getting back to where I was once I’m done with school. I’m looking forward to going up against your daughter.”

“What? I don’t work well with sharp objects,” Miranda immediately says, not being able to picture herself having anything to do with fencing. She makes a mental note to ask Finn about this whole affair later that night, wanting to know more. “Plus, I’m not really the sporty girl.”

“It takes a strong mind more than it does a strong body.”

Her father smiles, obviously pleased with Finns, and Miranda sticks her tongue out at him.


**After Lunch**


Miranda can’t believe how quickly Finn squeezed in with her parents. They both adore him. She was really looking forward to her dad making Finn uncomfortable. It never happened, as far as Miranda can tell.

“You’ve got to see \'Kiss of the Dragon\' if you like Jet Li. It’s nothing groundbreaking, but it’s definitely worth seeing,” Finn says, handing Bruce a beer from the refrigerator.

“I don’t think I’ve heard of that one,” Bruce says, using the counter edge to pop the top off the bottle. Miranda grins, knowing that her mother hates it when he does and she wonders if she should tattle.

“Have you ever seen \'The Professional\'?” Finn asks.

“Yes, it’s been awhile though.”

“Luc Besson, the guy who wrote and directed \'Professional\' wrote this one. Jet Li’s story, but Besson wrote the screenplay,” Finn says.

Miranda waits for her dad to sigh in annoyance because he’s always found it annoying when she would spout off film details. The sigh doesn’t come, instead he looks interested and starts talking about how much he liked \'Leon\'. Miranda glares at them both for a minute and than leaves the kitchen to find her mom.

She finds her mom outside on the patio and sits beside her at the table.

“He seems like a nice boy. How are you doing over there?” Karen asks, glancing at Miranda sideways.

Nodding her head, she agrees, “Yeah he’s nice. I’m doing good.”

“What’s this other roommate like?”

Miranda laughs, “He’s very British, cocky, but very funny.”

“My High School boyfriend was British,” Karen muses. “It’s the accents.”

“Poor dad,” Miranda says with a smile.

“Your father more than makes up for it.”

“Watch it mom. You’re heading towards danger zones. Please don’t hurt my ears.”

Karen makes a zipping motion with her fingers across her mouth and smiles. “So you and Finn seem to get along.”

Miranda glances over at her mom, knowing that she’s fishing for information and not bothering to cover it up. She’s not surprised her parents would assume that something was going on, it’s not like Miranda bothered bringing many boys home to meet the family.

“Finn…is nice,” she says with a smile. “I like him.”

Karen slides the pitcher of lemonade towards Miranda, “So do I. And I think the same could be said for you father.”

---

“We should get going,” Miranda says, standing in front of the TV. She doesn’t really need to leave, they don’t really need to get going, but she wants to. Frankly, Finn and her father have been ignoring her and it’s annoying. She’s glad that her parents like Finn, but she can pretend to be annoyed with it all she wants. It’s just so damn frustrating that Finn knows he can charm anyone into loving him.

“Get out of the way,” her father orders, trying to see around her. Finn grins and motions her to the side with his hand. Miranda refuses to move, instead she turns around and shuts the TV off and is met with groans.

“Finn and I need to go before you don’t let him leave.”

“Better listen to her, you have to live with her,” Bruce says with a laugh. Finn nods his head, standing up, and shakes Bruce’s hand once again.

“It was great meeting you.”

“You too, make her bring you by again. Bring this Vincent character with you, I want to meet this other guy my daughter is sharing a house with,” Bruce says, standing himself.

“Mom, we’re leaving!” Miranda shouts loud enough for her mom to hear from wherever she is in the house.

“Of course. I’ll give Rand that movie to give you if she sees you first.”

Miranda gives her dad a quick hug, complete with a pat on the back, “Thanks for having us over dad.”

“Anytime sweetheart. I’ve given Finn here my consent to date you,” Bruce says with a blank face.

“What is wrong with you people?” she asks with a sigh, pulling out of the hug and ignoring Finn’s smile.

“Leaving already?” Karen asks, walking into the living room with a dish towel in hand. Miranda hugs her as well, minus the pat on the back, but adding a kiss on the cheek.

“Yeah we should. Dad has been bonding and it’s dangerous when dad bonds.”

“Ahhh I see. Well Finn it was wonderful to meet you. Come over any time,” Karen says.

Finn walks forward, arms outstretched, “Do I get a hug too?”

“Oh god,” Miranda scoffs.

Her mom smiles and hugs Finn tightly, the dish towel hanging down Finn’s back. Miranda grabs Finn’s wrist and drags him towards the door, figuring that they’d never get out of there if she didn’t take charge.

Saying goodbye again, she practically pushes him out of the house, muttering under her breath, “I hate you.”


**That Night**


Miranda leaps onto Finn’s bed, sliding across it and almost throwing herself off the other side.

“A slide an Orca could be proud of,” Finn says, walking out of their shared bathroom in his underwear with a towel draped across his shoulders.

Rolling over onto her back, she glares at him, “Are you comparing me to a whale?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I am doing,” he says simply, a smirk in place. He rubs the towel against his wet hair, roughly drying it. He pulls the towel off his head, leaving his hair wet and in complete disarray. Half is sticking out, while the other half is stuck down flat. He tosses the towel behind him into the bathroom and lays down on his back beside Miranda.

They both stare at the ceiling in silence, comfortable with not needing to fill every silent space with words. Miranda finds herself almost nodding off and wonders if Vincent has found himself a bed yet. When they got home from her parents’ house, a note was waiting for them on the door, reading: \'Searching for a soft bed that smells of roses. Who the bloody hell am I kidding? I’ll settle for a clean floor.\' She can only assume that it means he’s out on the prowl and looking for female companionship. She thought it a little early for that, but apparently there isn’t a set time for that sort of thing.

“Your parents are amazing,” Finn says, breaking the silence.

“Yeah. I’m fond of them. They seemed to like you…you bastard.”

“What’s that about?” he asks, glancing over at her.

“I was hoping I would get to see you squirm. It didn’t happen.”

“Evil female.”

“Yes and proud….So fencing huh?”

“Yep, fencing.”

“That was true right? Not some elaborate lie you made up?” she asks, not so sure that he wouldn’t do that.

“No it’s true. I was heavily into fencing in High School,” Finn clarifies, folding his hands over his stomach.

“Bet that made you a popular kid,” she says with a grin.

“Oh yeah, insanely popular,” he says sarcastically.

“Why don’t you do it anymore?” she asks, turning her head to watch him. He didn’t exactly dry his body off when he got out of the shower and there are drops of water slowly making their way down his side to land on the sheet. She averts her gaze, because staring for too long at Finn’s body is a bad idea if she wants to uphold a conversation.

“College started and I decided that I wanted to be a writer and if that was going to happen I better start writing full time. It was always a hobby, but I decided to drop everything else and just concentrate on writing.”

“Don’t you miss the other things?”

“Sometimes.”

His voice is far away and she smiles softly. She rolls over onto her side, which brings her body flush up against his, and lowers her hand down onto his chest. She trails her finger tip across his chest and down to his stomach, not even thinking about what she’s doing. His sounding vulnerable is swiftly becoming one of her weaknesses.

Cocking his head to the side, he watches her without saying anything, content with letting her do what she wanted.

“I don’t want to date you,” he says quietly, shaking his head slowly.

“What?” she asks, her hand stilling. A small part of her panics, but the rational side tells her to let him explain.

“Date, I don’t want to do it. Forgive me if I’m being forward, but I think we passed that up around the first time we almost had sex,” he explains, reaching up to tuck a her hair behind her ear. “I love your hair,” he mutters.

“So you want me to be your girlfriend?” she asks, wanting clarification, but also wanting to tease him.

“It’s makes me love the color brown.”

“Focus,” she orders.

He laughs softly, “I just want to be with you. I’d prefer lover, but I’ll take what I can get.”

She laughs and leans forward to press small kisses across his shoulder, “Do you have to get permission from my father for that?”

“Do you think I should?” he asks, wrapping his arm around her waist to roll her body onto his. She hold herself up on her forearms, bracing herself against his chest, her legs laying between his.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” she says with mock seriousness.

Finn doesn’t respond, instead he buries his hands in her hair and softly pulls her head down. She falls into him, kissing him softly, her hands moving to his jaw. He removes one hand from her head, her hair falling swiftly to brush against his neck, as he runs his hand down her back to finger the waist band of her pajama pants.

He doesn’t slip his hand further down, seeming to be waiting for permission. She smiles against his mouth and kisses him more completely, hoping it’s permission enough. It seems that it is when his hand slips underneath the waist band and he rubs his fingers down her hip to rest on her thigh.

Breaking the kiss, he mutters, “No panties?”

She shakes her head before dropping kisses down his neck. The hand in her hair tightens, holding her head in place gently. The hand on her thigh beings to massage, slowly moving up to cup her butt. She can feel him hardening beneath her and she discreetly presses down against him. She lets a moan escape against his neck and he softly tugs at her hair.

She pulls her head up at the tug, and looks down at him, waiting for him to say whatever it is he has to say. His eyes search hers for a moment, but he doesn’t say anything.

After a few more seconds of silence, she slowly lowers her mouth down to his, keeping eye contact. However, when his mouth touches hers, she can’t seem to keep her eyes open no matter how hard she tries.

Whatever he was looking for, he seems to have found it as his tongue slides against the roof of her mouth. Without warning, he rolls them both over, and takes position above her. She doesn’t mind, she’s actually pleased with the shift. She wraps a leg around his waist, causing his hips to press more firmly against her own. She uses her heel to push against the waistband of his boxers. She drags her fingers down his shoulders to his upper arms, enjoying his moan of approval. She slides her hand back up his arms and down his sides, over his back, loving the feeling of his skin against her fingertips. He presses his hips down against hers and she gasps against his mouth. She can feel a smirk quirk up the side of his mouth and in response to his cockiness, she bites down on his bottom lip.

He pulls his head up, his smile growing, “Cheeky monkey.”

She nods proudly and pulls his head back down for another kiss. He doesn’t resist. He slides a hand down her side, skimming her breast, and smoothes his palm underneath her shirt and over her stomach. She looses track of his hands, feeling them everywhere all at once. Nibbling down his neck, she slides her hands down the small of his back to slip underneath the waistband of his boxers.

He lifts his head up again to look down at her through half closed eyes. He stays silent for a moment, still massaging her belly with his hand, occasionally slipping a finger underneath her pants.

“Why are you with me?”

His question catches her off guard and she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to say. His face is blank and she has no idea what he’s looking for. She has to bite her tongue from letting a torrent of truth out, not wanting to expose herself. Not wanting him to know just how much he’s come to mean to her.

Settling with humor, she quips seriously, “So when you become a famous author you can introduce me to Johnny Depp, who can in turn introduce me to all of my other favorite people. The man is like an iguana, he slips in with everyone of quality.”

Finn doesn’t smile and for a moment Miranda worries that she should have been honest. In seconds his face lightens and opens up, allowing a goofy smile to form. But he’s not that good and he allows a look of disappointment to flash across beneath the goofy smile.

“He’s probably having a late dinner with Salinger as we speak,” Finn says lightly before sliding his body down hers so he can drop kisses across her stomach.

She watches him lave attention on her stomach, pushing her shirt farther up and out of his way. She wants to tell him something, something to ease his mind, but she doesn’t want to be the first one to be exposed. It’s selfish, but it’s frightening to let someone know how much they mean to you. Especially when that someone has a plane ticket to London in waiting.

“I like you,” she says quietly and simply, hoping that he understands that she means more.

Looking up from her stomach, he catches her eye and smiles softly, “I like you too.”

She laughs at how goofy and childish they both sound, but is pleased nonetheless. He lowers his head again and circles her belly button with his tongue. She wants more from him and is entirely ready for everything that he has to show her. He knows that she’s a virgin and she’s pretty sure that that’s the reason why he hasn’t pushed things further.

“Finn…” she trails off, waiting for him to look up. When he does, she says, “You should lock the door.”

In a second he’s on his feet and locking the two doors. She laughs at how quick he moves, clearly looking forward to why the doors should be locked. Vincent isn’t home, but she really doesn’t want to have a sandwich with him. Vincent is like Quagmire in the flesh, only without that ‘Giggidy-giggidy-giggidy-giggidy!’ catch phrase. She wouldn’t put it past him to pull up a lawn chair with an umbrella in his drink.

Finn crawls up her body and peppers kisses across her forehead. His lips move over her eyelids and down her nose, over her cheeks and across her jaw. She sighs at his attentions, loving every second. He finally ends at her mouth, nipping at her lip before smoothing over it with his tongue. She slides her tongue out to meet his and soon she looses track of time.

Before she knows what’s happened, her shirt has been tossed to the floor and her bra is in the process of being unclipped. She arches her back so he can get to the snap easier.

“What the hell is this? Bra designed to survive Armageddon?” Finn asks with frustration. She moves to do it herself but he stops her, “I will dominate this bra myself.”

She laughs at him openly and kisses along his shoulder while she waits. She bites down softly and his body jerks in response. He makes a sound of triumph as it finally unclips and looks down at Miranda with a smug look, “Even with your distractions.”

“I’m so proud of you,” she says kindly.

He pulls the bra away from her body as quickly as possible, as if at any second it would magically resnap. He tosses it over his shoulder, his eyes glued to her chest. She squirms underneath his scrutiny, feeling self-conscious. She leans up, coming closer to Finn so as to hide her chest from his eyes. But he stops her with a hand, slowly pushing her back down onto the mattress.

“Never hide yourself from me. You’re beautiful.”

She nods slightly and closes her eyes when his fingertips slide down the valley between her breasts. She breathes in deeply when they trace the curve and tickle the sides. She feels like he’s memorizing every inch. She jumps involuntarily when his mouth comes into contact with her bare skin.

He laves attention on every inch of her breasts, not missing anything. Before long he has her squirming beneath him, which brings a self-satisfied smirk to his face. Her fingers are buried in his hair as she runs her fingernails across his scalp. He moans against her with every buck of her hips and with every drag of her fingernails. She can feel him hard against her and she presses up against him, trying to relieve the pressure between her thighs.

He drags his tongue flat up her neck and she moans his name. His breath is coming in short pants and he lifts his head, searching her eyes for permission. Any sense of self-consciousness fled a long time ago and all she wants is Finn.

“Finn…please.”

He seems to come undone and in seconds gets rid of any remaining clothing. Miranda can’t help but laugh at his obvious excitement. He holds himself above her and gives her an insulted look.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“Only a little,” Miranda says with a smile.

“What a way to bring a guy down Rand. Laughing the second he gets naked is not advised.”

“You’re cute.”

“Like a ninja?”

“Are ninja’s cute?”

“They could be. If it was a pink ninja,” he says distractedly while he strokes his fingers across her skin. Everywhere he touches seems to catch fire and her throat is dry from breathing so heavily.

Shaking her head, she makes a sound of disagreement, “No pink. I hate pink.”

“Thank you, I know exactly what to get you for Christmas,” he says quietly.

She opens her mouth to argue, but he’s quick to kiss her before she can say anything more. Any thought of talking disappears as his hand skims her thigh, moving to the inside. Miranda suddenly recalls that he brags of an unusually high sex drive and wonders how long he could actually last. However, with the way he’s touching her, she doubts she’ll last very long herself.


**The Next Morning**


“So this is Harold. Harold, not Harry, and he enjoys long walks through the jungle and bananas.”

Miranda walks with George, who’s dressed all in khaki, nodding her head with each introduction. She folds her hands behind her back and keeps a cool façade, even despite the sweltering heat.

George stops again, motioning with his hand, “This is Pierre, he was born and raised in the South of France. He plays the harmonica.”

“Hello Pierre,” Miranda greets politely.

Pierre only flicks his wrist in a way of greeting, seemingly more concerned with his foot. Miranda frowns, very displeased with his attitude. Turning to the tour guide, she says, “I don’t think I want any of these. They’re not polite.”

George looks shocked and than insulted, his hand grasping his chest as if such a thing has never been said to him, “Not polite!? I’ll have you know that these monkey’s are the sole pride and joy of this city.”

“Yes I realize that, but I think I may want to go look at the anteaters if that’s at all possible.”

“Anteaters? They are so much lower. Very low on the chain of fashion. These monkey’s have style,” George insists.

Miranda glances at Harold once again, taking in his gold sequin pant suit. She has to admit that they are very well-dressed.

“Let me show you one more, Philip, he’s a bit of a loner, but he has the most style,” George says, grabbing her wrist and dragging her along the path.

He stops in front of another bungalow, and knocks on the door, “Sometimes he’s not willing to entertain guests.”

The door swings open and Philip answers, a cigarette dangling from his lips and a pissed off look on his face, “I’ve told you not to bug me Lamar.”

Lamar looks embarrassed and Miranda hides her grin at his name. He told her his name was George. He must not have wanted people to call him Lamar the Lemur, she guesses she can forgive that. Looking at Philip, she decides that she must have him. He surely is the most stylish, wearing a bright pink kilt a bare-chested. However, on his chest he has written, \'Everybody\'s Clever Nowadays\'.

“I’ll take him,” she says with authority.

“I don’t want her,” Philip says, jutting a finger out towards Miranda.

“Excuse me?” Miranda asks indignantly.

He begins a long list as to why he does not want her, even mentioning that she smelled of elderberries. Halfway through his tirade, all she can hear is a loud buzzing noise. It’s coming from all directions and drowning out everything else.

“Fuck off!” Finn groans, thrashing his hand around his nightstand, trying to find the alarm clock.

Miranda rolls over, burying her face in the pillow, “Make it stop.”

Instead of shutting it off, he rips it from the wall and throws it across the room, “Much better.” He rolls over on to his side and throws his arm across Miranda’s waist, pulling her closer to him. Burying his face in her hair, he sighs and tightens his arm around her stomach.

“I dreamt you were a monkey,” she mutters, sleep threatening to pull her under.

Finn lifts his head, “Huh?”

Miranda rolls over to face him, positioning his arm to use as a pillow, she grabs at the sheet and pulls it up over her shoulder. Open her eyes a little, squinting against the light, she looks up to see Finn staring at her with an amused look.

“Your name was Philip and you were smoking.”

“And I was a monkey?”

“You didn’t want me to keep you though, you were mean,” she says, not really knowing what she’s saying. She’s in that limbo between sleeping and waking, she loves this feeling. There’s nothing better in the world. Well maybe the events that transpired the night before, but that’s different.

“I couldn’t have been mean, it’s an impossibility. How do you know this Philip was me?”

“Yeah huh, you were mean, you said I smelt of elderberries,” she says accusatorily, closing her eyes against the light managing to sneak past the curtains. “I just know it was you. You had a pink kilt and a Wilde line on your chest.”

“Well I’m very sorry if I was mean. I must have been insane in my monkey state. You smell beautifully,” he drops light kisses along her hairline as if to prove the point.

Miranda lays quietly for several minutes, waiting for sleep to take her but it edges away before she can catch it. Finally, she opens her eyes, frustrated with not being able to fall back asleep. Finn’s smooth chest takes up all visual space and she tilts her head back to see if he’s awake. His eyes are shut and is breathing is deep and even, she assumes he’s sleeping. Laying her head back were it was, she remembers the night before.

Finn definitely took his time, enjoying every second, in turn as did she. He made her feel absolutely worshiped and she can’t wait until she can return the favor. She had tried to, but he had stopped her, saying that he wouldn’t be able to take his time if she touched him and that he wanted her first time to be about her. A part of her wanted to ignore him, but she decided that there was time for that, so she let it be.

People always speak of their first time’s being terrible and awkward. Miranda doesn’t know what they did differently, but last night was anything but terrible and awkward.

Finn yawns and his hand begins tracing lazy circles on her back, “How ‘bout we never leave and just have sex our entire lives?”

She smiles at his question. Tilting her head back, she softly kisses his neck, “What about food?”

“Well I can easily carry you to the kitchen,” he says arrogantly.

“And Vincent?”

“Alright, we’ll have a mini-fridge delivered for our room and order grocery’s by phone. We could set up a tray system out of the window. They leave the bags on the tray and we get them that way.”

“What about cooking? We’d need to cook something every once in awhile. I also heard that cooking naked isn’t a good idea for men.”

“Microwave.”

“You know this all would be a lot easier if we just lived alone, we’d have a kitchen.”

“God damn you woman,” he mutters in frustration.

She smiles apologetically, “I’m sorry dear. Your ideas sound wonderful.”

“Well now you’re just mocking me.”

She leans up to softly kiss him, not caring about her morning breath or his. He obviously cares even less when he deepens the kiss. His hand slips down lower to cup her butt and slides down to her thigh. He pulls her thigh up over his hip to pull her in closer to him.

Breaking the kiss, he mutters, “You’re forgiven.”

She’s not sure that she’s ready for another sexual adventure, being that she’s a little sore from the night before, so she lays her head back down on his arm. He seems to understand, content with running his hand lazily up and down her thigh. She doesn’t want to think about anything bad, but she can’t help but think that she’s going to lose this. She was supposed to stay distanced from him so it didn’t hurt as much when he left, but her plan didn’t work.

“Sing me to sleep,” she says into his chest, wanting to take her mind off troubling thoughts and go back to sleep. She smiles when he sings those exact words immediately, delving into his own rendition of \'Asleep\'. The song isn’t seen as the most uplifting, being about someone preparing for the Big Sleep, but it soothes her regardless. Besides, who decides what makes a song happy or sad? There’s a sense of relief just from saying what’s on your mind, never mind what you’re saying. Finn’s voice is soft, and while not at the level of the songwriter’s, his voice is perfect at calming her. She briefly registers when finishes the song and starts to immediately sing \'Beyond The Sea\'. Halfway through the song, she knows she’s falling asleep again and only hopes that Vincent doesn’t bang on the door the second she does.


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AN: It’s been a terribly long time since my last chapter and I’m sorry for that. I’ve been going through some pretty intense writer’s block. This chapter went through so many changes it’s ridiculous. I’m still not 100% satisfied with it, but I think it’s as good as it’s going to get right now. I can’t promise when the next one will be up, I imagine it will be a difficult one to write. Thank you to everyone for being so patient with me.

I’m very pleased to see that new readers are constantly finding this story, many reading it all in one sitting.

I’m pleased with certain portions of this chapter and not so pleased with others. Although I am very happy to see how long it turned out, so that should make up for the delay in getting it out. Now for the list of references, since there are many in this addition.

Songs:
\'Do You Really Want To Hurt Me\' - Boy George
\'Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?\' - Rod Stewart
\'I’m Not Your Stepping Stone\' - The Monkees
\'I Believe I Can Fly\' - R. Kelly
\'I Hear A Symphony\' - The Supremes
\'Asleep\' - Morrissey
\'Beyond The Sea\' - Bobby Darin

Movies:
\'Kiss Of The Dragon\'
\'Leon: The Professional\'

Quagmire is a character from \'Family Guy\'.
“Everybody\'s Clever Nowadays” is a quote from Oscar Wilde’s play ‘The Importance Of Being Ernest’.

I think that’s all. If I missed any and someone wants to know where it’s from, just ask in a review.

And lastly. Hope you enjoyed and don’t forget to review.