Summary: Sands can't stand that damn spur any more than I can.
Pairings: Nonsexual Sands and El
Rating: PG-13 for Sands' filthy mouth.
Legal Stuff: Robert Rodriguez owns Sands and El. I now own the spur, which I have melted down into new handcuffs.
Spur of the Moment
"If you don't do something about that fucking spur, I'm going to rip it off and shove it up your ass after I carve my name into your fucking chest with it."
"I fucking warned you."
The agent lunged at the mariachi from the bed where he had been resting. The attack was full of aggravation and annoyance, and thus was poorly calculated.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," the mariachi clucked in the agent's ear. The younger man's arms were pinned behind his back, his head pulled back painfully against the mariachi's shoulder. "I thought I told you to clean up your language."
"You're trying to drive me fucking insane, aren't you?"
"Are you not so already?"
"Ya know what, El? I think I just might kill you. Just fucking chop you up in the middle of the god damned night with that hulking piece of shoe metal! Then, I'll feed you to the fucking chiclet kid for breakfast. 'My, this is damn good pork,' he'll say."
The agent cried out as he felt himself being pushed downward. A quiet 'thunk', and the man felt himself being roughly handcuffed to the bed.
"El! El you fucking cockroach! You're…"
The duct tape over his mouth greatly muffled Sands' expletives. The mariachi chuckled.
Author's Notes: Oh my God! I can't believe I was able to write this! Sands lost for once. How the hell did that happen? He must have been asleep when I snuck off to pen this one. I hope you liked it: it's a bit odd. Gracias to Klara for the title. And gracias to Elyse for the bad thoughts...the bad thoughts I had already thought.
Trying to format this bastard was a pain in the ass. Just imagine lots of space in between each little 'step. clink.'...in other words...just emphasize them...make them all dramatic. Cuz I give up fighting with fanfiction formatting.
Leave comments and reviews por favor! Suggestions are more than welcome, too.