dedication: Chloe. bitches be fabulous.
notes: something about this pairing makes me laugh.
title: man repellant
summary: Holy drop crotch onesie and floral Miu Miu clogs, where did you hide your lady bits! — Kidd/Liz.
"What are you wearing."
It wasn't even a question. Liz sat on the couch with her legs crossed, quietly perusing a copy of Vogue with her lips pursed and completely ignored Kidd frothing at the mouth in the corner.
"Liz. Liz. What are you wearing."
"What does it look like I'm wearing, Kidd?"
Kidd couldn't even get the words out. He pointed at the loose blue fabric that swathed her body, cinched tight at the waist (which made her chest look as big as Patty's, Liz was proud to say), and made an inhuman sound at the back of his throat. "That. What—what is that."
"This?" Liz asked, rhetoric. She was very tempted to giggle cruelly. "This is a onesie, Kidd. It's high fashion porn, basically. You wouldn't understand."
Apparently, he didn't.
"It's so—not—Liz, it's not symmetric, fix it now."
Liz yawned in his face.
This did not bode well for Kidd's blood pressure.
"Liz," Kidd said again.
Like that would actually manage to make her do anything.
"What would you have me do, hm? Get naked?" Liz yawned again for good measure.
Kidd's left eyeball twitched back and forth.
"Anything—anything—is better than—than that," he said, fingers twitching with the urge to make everything right in his world and reduce her lovely, comfortable, loose-fitting onesie to shreds and dust.
"Too bad," Liz said. "I like it."
And then she stood up in too-high heeled clogs, and moseyed on out of the room. The fabric around her body swayed tauntingly. Kidd could only watch her go, unable to make everything exactly as he wanted it.
His blood pressure rose and rose.
Blood spurted from his nose.
Kidd passed out in a puddle of angst and symmetrical lust.
Oops, thought Liz, with a satisfied smile.