(Hey, what can I say? I LOVE being the obnoxious person I am, so I decided to do this... yet AGAIN!)
Title:Care to Dance? (part 3/?) [yeah, okay, last time I check YOU didn't write anything in the first place, so go COMPLAIN about it to somebody ELSE. Thank u!]
Rating:PG13 (again I just picked one, so :-P)
Disclaimer:As any intelligent person would know, these people and their show are not mine. I didn't steal 'em, I borrowed 'em for a while. Now, for you UNintelligent rich people who DO happen to own the characters of MY STORY, you MIGHT want to be them BACK on the AIR. 'Cuz all us SMART people know that that is a GOOD MOVE. Thank u 2.
Spoilers:It has words in it. (Whoa.)
Author's Notes:If I really wanted to, I could do this forever. But I don't want to. Bite me. Here's my story..... I CHANGED IT TO CHRIS'S POV CUZ I FELT LIKE IT SO BITE ME FOR THAT ONE, TOO!
Care to Dance?
Which hurts more: saying something and wishing you hadn't or not saying anything and wishing you had?
Have you ever been afraid tell someone you love them because you're afraid of losing what you already have?
Have you ever noticed that the worst way to miss someone is when they're right beside you and yet you cannot have them?
Cursing under my breath, I shoved my key into Rita's door and pushed it open. I'd called her an hour and half ago. She was going to be pissed.
"Hey Sam, whacha got there, partner?" Rita said with a smile, lifting herself off the couch and putting her book on the coffee table.
"The Italian shop was packed, the Chinese shop was literally overflowing, and a couple of other places were crowded beyond belief, so I went to that pizza place around the corner and am very happy that you're not about to hit me," I said while balancing the pizza on my arm and a bottle of wine in the other hand.
Okay, I just had to smile. She made me! It's not like she can stand on her toes and stretch as far as she can to reach my cheek and give me a kiss, then not expect me to smile. Uh-uh, not possible.
"Chris, just because I'm short, it's no reason to make fun of me! Stop smiling!"
"I'm sorry Sammy, it's just that without your shoes you're even shorter than normal! You look all small and stuff down there," dodging her elbow by about a quarter of an inch, I put the pizza on her coffee table and took the wine to the kitchen, my smile getting wider as she stood there pouting that she missed.
"Sammy, you were right before," her voice called from the living room.
Carrying her wine back to her, I had to ask. "I was right about what?"
With a deadly serious face, she took her wine and sipped it. Settling herself down on the couch, she replied, "I may actually hurt you one day."
My mouth dropped, and I smacked my best puppy-face on. "Sammy! I can't believe you'd try to hurt me." Smiling, I had to add, "Because I, madam, am a cop. And YOU, my friend, could be arrested."
She just grinned and got up, handing her glass to me. As she got the movie, I took a sip of my own wine. And if I hadn't just swallowed, I swear I would have choked hearing her comment, "So, what you're saying is that you would have to interrogate me first, right? Lock yourself with me into a dark room, going at it for several hours?"
I had to! Okay, well I didn't have to, but I couldn't resist. Chris can't threaten to arrest me and then expect not to get a retort in return. Nevah!
"Okay Sammy, we're both right. You really are gonna hurt me someday." I chuckled, shaking my head as I settled down on the couch, scooting over so Chris could be my pillow. One arm around my shoulders, we stopped our bantering long enough to watch the movie.
"Sammy, I don't think we've ever watched that movie together." Chris said, trying to think if we really had while carrying our dinner containers to the trash.
"Gladiator? Nope, Sam, I don't think we have. Ouch!" Carrying the wine glasses to the sink with bare feet was not a good idea.
"Sammy, what happened?" Chris spun around to see the wine glasses on the counter, but Rita's hand clenching her foot. "Sammy?"
"I'm fine, Chris, don't worry."
"Rita, what happened?" He asked walking over to her. As he got closer, Chris saw the blood starting to bead on her foot. Looking down, he figured out what happened, "Sam, you stepped on the certain glass's certain glass shards!"
Rita couldn't help but laugh. Pulling her hand off the counter and trying to balance on what foot, she stuck her arms out and smacked on her best version of Chris's puppy dog face. "Carry me?"
Chris grinned, wrapping one arm around her back and bending over to pick up her knees. "Sammy, we need to get you to put on some weight. Remind me of that later."
"Right Sam. I'm stuck with a foot that might need an amputation and you're telling me to gain weight. Love you too, Chris." Rita smacked a smirk on her face. Chris's heart fluttered, if she really meant that..., he thought.
"Sammy, if I save you from needing an amputation, will you do me a favor?"
Rita looked puzzled as Chris set her on the bathroom counter. "As long as I don't have to gain weight, I'll think about it." She giggled.
Chris looked up at her as he was trying to work the glass out of her foot. "Sammy, it's got nothing to do with gaining weight, I just really need the favor."
Rita looked thoughtful, studying him for some emotion. He doesn't look desperate, angry, sad, confused.... Hmmm... "Okay, Sam, one favor in return for a healing foot."
Chris kissed her sole, grinning. "One healing foot, coming right up."
Ha ha ha ha ha. Since I at least have sum ppl reading this and liking it, I put this up for you. But without anything important. So you good people get something to read, and you other people get one last warning. NO MORE UNTIL SOMEONE ADDS TO THE SS SECTION FOR FANFIC. Put up an old one, write a new one, whatever. For you who don't know how, click authors and join it. This is my first story, it's not that hard. Jeez. Okay, fine, how 'bout this—I don't care what you add to fanfic since a bunch of you are saying you don't know how, just email me links for CLASSIC Silk Stalkings pages. That's not that hard. I'll write more whenever I get a link I haven't seen or get something up on FF.com. See, I compromised. Now you do something.
(Email me at: PNFresh1@lycos.com)
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