|Melon Jokes: It's Not Over
Author: Missy Jade PM
Babe doesn't take hints. Dixie does what she has to do. An attempt at a wedding completely falls apart. Derek finds his job really exhausting. You know, things happen.Rated: Fiction M - English - Humor/Family - Chapters: 2 - Words: 3,213 - Published: 09-22-08 - id: 4553275
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Title: Melon Jokes
Rating: R (language, insanity, sexuality)
Characters: Tad, Dixie, Adam, Brooke, JR, Erin, Ryan, Kendall, Leo, Greenlee, Bianca, Jamie, Di, Babe and KWAK!
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, do you think we'd be watching this crap if I did?
Timeline: There is no timeline, bwahahaha! A crackfic in it's purest form!
Notes: Some things from AMC never happened, see Babygate and Dixie and Leo's "deaths" and a few other things, and some things did but in a different form, see Rylee and quite a few storylines... I just need some way to shed my stress over the joke that my beloved soap has become...
Teaser: Insanity is truly the tie that binds...
"You have no right to hold me, you know."
Derek Frye paused with his cup of cold coffee half to his lips, eyes lifting to settle on a deeply irritated looking Dixie Cooney, sitting there looking like somebody had stuffed her in a giant green pepper. "There are two women in the hospital because of you," he drawled, and then paused, grimacing as he took a long swallow of the so-called coffee. "Not to mention the fact that the rest of the wedding party's either been put away or are also in the hospital."
"That's not my fault."
Derek thought of long-legged Mrs. Hart-Lavery and Mrs. du Pres, now sharing a cell as they compared bruises and battle tales; he had heard them when he had gone in to check on Dani, and his soul had shriveled in an awed kind of horror. Already, their husbands were attempting to break them out, and Derek gave them only an hour or two before the Dirty Duo were back out on the streets, terrorizing the town like Godzilla in heels.
Or, well, two—
Wait, what was the plural of Godzilla?
"You can't hold me," Dixie repeated more angrily, and he rolled his eyes helplessly, draining his coffee with a shudder up his spine. "You caused thousands of dollars worth of damage, Dixie—" He paused and scowled, shooting her an evil eye. "Do you have any idea how long it'll take the Valley Inn to rebuild?" he demanded heatedly, and she tossed her hair—a mess of blonde hair smeared with champagne and wedding cake—in a decidedly Erica Kane matter.
"Derek! Derek Frye!"
Speak of the devil—
And the door was practically kicked in as Erica Kane burst in, looking a bit better for the wear than Dixie, even with the broken heel and torn dress, manicured nails cracked and dirty with food and mud and something that looked like a bra strap dangling around one arm. "Derek!" she shrieked and waved angrily in Dixie's direction, the very first of the Godzilla monsters in heels. "What do you think you're doing?! Let Kendall out this instant—"
"And Greenlee," Jackson interjected and Erica waved her hand again, almost smacking her husband in the face, an impressive feat considering the height difference. He looked better than any of the others, which was to be expected considering the fact that he had been in charge of handling the children at the time of the upheaval.
"Yes, yes, of course, and Greenlee," Erica snapped, and settled a hard stare on Derek.
This day was just getting better, wasn't it?
"I have to go home," Dixie exploded, and began smacking the table rather savagely, scowling at him. "I need to get your story," Derek drawled, and tapped his notepad with his pen. "After that, we'll get something set up." He stopped, tossed a wary glance at Erica, tapping her heelless shoe against the floor furiously. "After this," he stated, and Erica narrowed her eyes, mouth quirking into a tight frown.
"Babe Carey started this!" Dixie blurted out, and Derek closed his eyes, reaching up to press fingertips into his eyelids, worn down by all of it. "I know," he growled, resisting the urge to bang his head on the table, feeling Erica's glare bore into his skull. "I'm not arresting you," he added exhaustedly, and Dixie snorted, tossing once blonde hair over a shoulder and leaning back in her chair angrily. "I just need to know how this all started, Dixie."
"I said, Babe Carey—"
"No, Dixie, when did this start?" he asked heatedly, and gestured furiously around them all with one hand, finding Dixie going still, eyes flickering with wariness. "Um," she murmured finally, and Erica cocked an eyebrow at her, looking suddenly rapt with attention. To Derek's tired amusement, Jack looked just as fascinated, staring intensely at the small women. "Well?"
"I think… I mean…" Dixie hesitated, licked her lips, threw a nervous glance over one shoulder, as if certain a reporter was standing there— "Do you remember… that… incident, in the grocery store with, um, the, um…?" She fluttered her hands around her chest and Derek's eyebrows suddenly shot up in remembrance. "Oh, the… incident?" he finished lamely, and she gave a jerky little nod, bright red in the face. "After that, I think… I mean, that's when JR and Erin… got engaged…"
"Yes, I remember," he grinned, and her lips twitched even as she glared at him. He was aware of Erica and Jackson pulling two chairs up to the table and taking their seats, now completely fascinated, but Dixie didn't seem to care, still looking flustered. Remembering the media frenzy and the pictures on the tabloids, only more frenzied after the Chandler engagement had broken just hours later, he coughed awkwardly, remembering the army of reporters surrounding the station. "I think it started right after that," she sighed tiredly, and he nodded, flipping to a fresh piece of paper and starting his notes.
"And then?" Derek prodded carefully, feeling strangely excited about the thought of hearing the tale itself from sources outside of the officers that had first been on the scene. Across from him, Dixie snorted, rolling her eyes and waving one arm in irritation— "And then Babe Carey stuck herself in my family again, as always. It's all her fault." She paused, snorted again, more angrily, looking like a petite bull wrapped in lettuce leaves. "And Tad's too, for the record."