Pizzazz had only enough time to wonder how the hell Roxy expected her to answer anything while she was being kissed, before she found herself pushed back on the bed, Roxy sliding one leg across her thighs to hold her in place. Well, all right. She could wait for a little while before she said anything, Pizzazz decided, putting one arm around Roxy's waist to settle her into a more comfortable position. It would show terrible manners to push her away, especially when the pressure of Roxy's mouth was crushing her lips so beautifully. She would protest the moment the kiss ended. But this was nice, so nice… She wasn't sure she'd ever been kissed hard enough and demandingly enough in her life, and Roxy was just sweetly brutal enough to satisfy her.
Roxy pulled her mouth away for a heartbeat and kissed her again, each hand on the bed at the side of Pizzazz's head as she kissed her again and again. Well, she'd missed her chance that time, but she'd say something… eventually… She tilted up her chin to meet the kisses more quickly, vaguely aware that her arm had slid down from Roxy's waist and that she could feel a rounded curve pressing against her hand, and squeezed involuntarily.
Roxy thrust against her hip in response and bit her mouth, hard. Pizzazz half squealed in shock, and finally felt the warm wetness of a tongue pressing against her bruised lips.
So the little brat thought she could gain control like this… Pizzazz was half amused and half outraged, entirely aroused. She opened her mouth wide, and pushed her tongue hard against Roxy's, thrusting hard and sweetly into her mouth. When she heard the strangled moan she elicited, she smiled into the kiss and increased its intensity, raising her hands to tangle in thick hair and hold her friend's head still for her mouth to be ravished.
When she was sure Roxy had given in completely and was helplessly surrendered to the kiss, she pulled her head back up by her handfuls of hair.
"What the hell do you think you're trying on, Roxy?"
For a moment, Roxy had looked like she might have in another, sweeter life, flushed and sleepy-eyed, her parted lips smeared with the remnants of Pizzazz's magenta lipstick. Then her scowling pout clicked back on, as if her soft expression had been snap-frozen.
"What am I trying on? What the fuck do you think I'm doing, Pizzazz?" A lock of loose hair fell into Roxy's mouth, and she spat it out. "I'm taking you up on your offer."
Pizzazz blinked, genuinely taken aback. The spat-out hair was tickling her face, but she didn't want to let go in order to wipe it away. For some reason, keeping her grip on the other girl's hair was very important. "What offer?"
For a moment she expected to be hit. Then Roxy rather gracelessly pulled her leg from Pizzazz's, prevented from moving further way by the hands tightened to fists in her hair. They must have been hurting her, but she didn't protest. "I guess… I guess I misunderstood."
Something about the way Roxy's lashes were dropping over those purple eyes made Pizzazz feel as if she'd been hit in the gut by a handbag filled with ice cubes. "Misunderstood what, you dumb bitch?" Not a very tactful way to phrase the question, she realised, but at least Roxy looked actively furious now instead of cold and sullen, the violet ice hissing into steam.
"I dunno, 'Zazz." Her voice was far louder than it needed to be, considering their close proximity. "You turn up in my bedroom half-dressed, snuggle up to me, tell me that you're going to show me how appreciated I am and that you'll give me a reason to stay with the group, and start kissing me. No idea how I misunderstood."
Pizzazz stared blankly up at her, replaying the last few minutes in her mind, and started to laugh. No, not laugh, nothing like her normal shrieking amusement, but giggle. She shook with it, the giggles getting caught under her ribcage and hurting, so that she was forced to release her handfuls of platinum and press her fists under her own breasts. She trembled with paroxysms as Roxy rolled off her entirely and sat up on the bed, staring down and chewing her lower lip, as if trying to decide if Pizzazz was hysterical enough to justify slapping her face.
Or possibly just deciding whether she dared slap her leader for her own satisfaction, hysterical or not.
"Roxy, dear?" Pizzazz asked in her cutest little-girl voice, once the giggles had subsided to something like hiccups. They still hurt, but not so badly.
She held up one hand. Her nails looked like tiny pink shells, nothing like she would normally recognise as belonging to her fingers. "Look."
Long silvery lashes blinked in confusion. "Pizzazz, you sure you're feeling okay?"
"Yeah." She didn't bother to sit up. "Eric was right about you, that's all. And I didn't cut them for nothing." Her hand dropped and caught Roxy's own, tightening when she made a half-hearted attempt to pull it away. Her nails were now too short to dig satisfactorily into her skin. "I didn't actually come in here to seduce you," she said, realising suddenly exactly what she must have looked like, wearing a black negligee and crawling all over another girl. It was an odd feeling, trying to slip under someone else's skin. Pizzazz's interest in other people's feelings usually only went as deep as assuming they were either bedazzled by her, scared of her, or jealous - or all three. "I didn't even realise you were a dyke, although I don't know how I missed the obvious, really."
Her voice rose suddenly, harshening. "And I don't whore myself to anyone, not even for the Misfits."
"Sorry." It sounded like a curse, spat from magenta-smeared lips. "Guess you'd better clear out then."
Pizzazz ignored the suggestion. "And now all that's settled, Roxy honey, get back down here and let's make love." She gave her sunniest smile.
"Don't think so."
Pizzazz was genuinely taken aback. "Why - why not?" She hated herself for stuttering. She never stuttered. But she had really not been expecting a rejection at this point.
Roxy was not looking at her, quite determinedly not looking at her by the looks of it. "It's just not fun anymore, 'kay? Go on, Pizzazz. I'll see you at rehearsal this afternoon."
Fuck, fuck, and fuck again. Pizzazz sat up, and wrapped her arms around the other girl's neck, trying to repress the panic that told her that if she waited until this afternoon, Roxy would be back in Philadelphia, or somewhere else she might be impossible to trace. "C'mon, Roxy. What'd I do?" She kissed the base of her throat, very gently. "You seemed to be enjoying yourself a few minutes ago."
Pizzazz cursed whatever powers had failed to give her a more articulate best friend. Pretty, yes, a multitalented musician and a dab hand at exploding things, but not exactly fluent, at least not at moments of what was quite possibly tender emotion. "Tell me why you're so upset, Roxy, or I'll kick you across the room."
It seemed to work. Roxy pushed her away, giving her a look that was half tearful and half blazing hatred, and said, "I thought for a moment I was getting what I'd always wanted. That's all."
Pizzazz considered this. "Is it really what you wanted? All I ever really wanted," she said dreamily, "was for people to throw themselves at my feet and worship me."
"Not me." Roxy glared at her. "I don't fling myself at anyone's feet. And besides, Pizzazz... I don't think you'd really like it. Not from me, anyway. You kick people when they're under your feet."
"No. You're a Misfit, you don't count. And... yeah." Great. Even Roxy was more articulate than she was, apparently.
"Yeah." Roxy stared back at her. "And - Pizzazz?"
"Yeah?" This conversation had become stuck somewhere, Pizzazz was sure of it. They would spend the next half hour saying "yeah" at intervals, when they could be doing... other things. Nicer things. She contemplated just launching herself at Roxy, to see what would happen. Even a fist fight would be better than this.
"Get out of my room."
Pizzazz looked blankly at her a moment, considered hitting her, considered kissing her, and instead snarled, "Have it your way, Roxy. But don't even consider walking out on the Misfits again." She stood up and flounced over to the door, only slightly impaired by taking care not to trip on any of the junk this time. Fortunately, she'd had practice walking across her own bedroom floor.
She paused in the door way, the handle still in her grasp. "And it's my room!" She slammed the door hard, and let the shriek of fury out, kicking the door hard and smashing her fists against it in a soul-cleansing tantrum.
Finally her rage dimmed a bit, and the furious tattoo of her fists tailed off. She was still having difficulty processing why she'd been rejected. Stupid Roxy… she'd said she wanted her, hadn't she? So why was Pizzazz alone in the hallway, wet and aching and increasingly frustrated?
She covered her face with her hands and leaned against Roxy's door, sighing.
"Tough night for you two?" Pizzazz looked up into amused grey eyes.