Disclaimer: Another misadventure of my mind's eye.
"Why can't Cash do it?"
He wasn't trying, exactly, to whine but it just came so easily whenever he was asked to do something he didn't feel like bothering with. Which was most of the time, but regardless it still was so unfair.
"Well, it might prove a little more difficult to explain why my only son is as dark as a Mars bar when I, myself, am not."
"Easy, one word, `adoption', see what I did there? Problem solved!"
"My only `biological' son."
"Recessive genes to the rescue!"
"Cash can't do it, you're the only one here who is both young enough and a male."
"See, that's just being sexist. Why can't you have Mel play your daughter?"
"Because I already told them I have a `son', and there isn't enough time to play the transgender card."
"I don't want to!"
His whine carried across the office with annoying ease.
"I hate those stupid, stuffy, boring functions with all those stuck up jerks..I won't have anyone to talk to!"
"I am sure they will have a kiddie table for you to enjoy."
Oz stood up from his desk wearing a smirk, "You will need a tux."
"I'll pick you up at seven-thirty."
"Leave it alone."
He reached over and patted the younger man's hand down from the tie he continued to fiddle with needlessly.
"It's too tight!" Cameron hissed at him with a glare.
"It's supposed to be-I can't believe you never learned how to tie one."
"I never had to, I wear clip ons."
Oz rolled his eyes, "You are so hopeless at life it would scare me if I cared enough."
"I manage," Cam sulked and peered out of his car door window.
"Ok, we're here, now-remember-our last name is `Faust'. I am `George Faust' and you are `George `Georgie' Faust Jr."
"If only it was possible to hate you more.."
"We are rich, but not so rich that our names would be well known in this circle."
"Or period, because they suck ass."
"Quiet down. Now-you are going for your masters degree in law so you have an excuse to get the names, numbers, etc, of their lawyers, judges they may have `arrangements' with, you get the picture."
Cameron sighed and rolled his eyes, "Right.."
"I'll work on getting their general business contact information," Oz glanced over at Cam, "And, whatever you do, don't, I repeat `do not', ad-lib and go off script."
The young man could barely contain his smirk, "What do you mean..?"
"You know exactly what I mean, Cameron. Don't go making up anything about you, me, our family history, nothing."
"They may ask me some questions."
"Deflect them, you're good at that."
Oz drove up behind the long line of foreign cars waiting for valet service, "Stick to the script."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah..I got it, alright? The script only."
"Wait..so your great-grandfather created Styrofoam cups?"
Cameron grinned and picked up a fresh glass filled with frothy bubbly.
"He helped come up with the idea."
The young ladies that Cam had infiltrated all twittered and grinned.
None of them knew much about the product, only that very poor people used it, but obviously it meant this man came from money which was always a helpful fact to know about a newcomer to these events.
"Yeah-Pops was a good guy, it's just..the boating accident.." Cam cleared his throat, "So sudden.."
"Boating accident?" One young lady placed a dainty hand over her heart.
"Yeah..he never was a strong swimmer.." he sniffled dramatically.
"Oh you poor thing."
"From then on it was just Pa-Pa and me."
"And your mother?"
"Died in childbirth, twins."
The women all gasped as he nodded sadly.
"Ma-ma was such a nice lady-she always-"
Cameron stopped in mid-sentence when he caught Oz giving him the stink eye from across the room.
"Would you ladies please-excuse me, I..have become emotional, and I need a bit of fresh air."
He made his way through the group and over to the stone faced individual.
"`Pa-pa'..? What the hell is that about!"
Cameron smirked, "What? We're rich, that's what rich kids call their fathers."
"No..that is what rich kids call their fathers on `Masterpiece Theater'!"
Oz groaned in frustration, "I said no ad-libbing! No deviating from the script!"
"Calm down, I just made things a little more interesting, that's all."
"No, what you're doing is making it easier for them to prove we're not who we say we are."
The man pointed a finger at Cameron, "You're staying with me for the rest of the evening-and not a word!"
Cam had his mouth open but shut it and glared instead.
The glare only continued when he was left at a table to sit and wait for Oz to continue smoozing his way around the ballroom.
This was torture of the most unspeakable type.
Cameron looked up to see who was addressing him, "You're not."
The young woman, pretty in pink taffeta, who'd approached the table grinned, "How astute of you to notice."
He watched as she sat herself down across from him, still staring intently with eyes he now noticed were bright green.
"What's your name?"
"Uh..George, well, that's my..father's name, really, but I'm named after him, you know how it goes."
"Actually, I don't. My dad didn't think Phillip would be a good name for a girl I guess. So what do your friends call you?"
"Georgie," Cam studied her with a growing smirk. Maybe this night wouldn't turn out to be a total bust after all.
"I meant the ones out of grade school," she chuckled, "My name's Tabitha, which I hate, but my mom wanted to appease her aunt who was dying so she'd leave her all her jewels."
"A good a reason as any."
"So they say. You can call me Tabs."
"Not a cat."
Both gave the other a long, hard, look.
"Are you sure about this?"
"Do you ever shut up?"
"I never have good reason to-mmm.."
His words were lost as the young lady clamped her mouth down over his in a lip lock.
Cameron fumbled with his hands, not sure where to put them when Tabs straddled his lap and pressed up against his chest.
"..this is my kind of welcoming party," he gasped when she finally pulled back.
"Let me give you the grand tour, then," she tugged on his tie and went for the buttons on his shirt.
"Isn't this ah..a bit sudden?"
Conflicting thoughts and feelings raced through the young man, unsure of whether to push her off or help her.
It had just been so long since he had been with a girl.
"Shut up," Tabitha smirked and kissed him again, sliding her hands in to his shirt.
Cameron let himself become lost as the girl's quite talented tongue rendered him mute.
In the back of his mind, where his logic center was positioned, he knew this was a bad idea. Making out with strange girls in the backseat of their fathers' limos sounded foolhardy, at best. But Cam's libido was firmly in control at the moment and logical thinking gave way to lusty throbbing.
"Tabitha Katherine Prescott!"
A man's very red, very furious looking, face startlingly peered into the limo, "What do you think you're doing!"
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
Not caring that her lipstick had smeared some and her dress was hiked up to her thighs, the young woman gave her father the most apathetic expression possible, "Do you mind? I'm getting a chill."
Cameron gulped, "Uh..sir..we.." He then noticed Oz standing behind the seething, balding man and shrank back against the plush leather seat.
"She looked older! You saw her!"
"Seventeen. A minor."
"What was I supposed to do, card her?"
"Do you know what would have happened if her father and I hadn't shown up when we did?"
Oswald glared at Cameron darkly, "You're supposed to be such a smart kid-how is it that you can somehow make some of the dumbest, most asinine choices possible?"
"Fine..I know I screwed up, I-it won't happen again."
"Damn straight it won't, because I am not done with you, not by a long shot."
Cameron blinked as Oz put the car in drive and sped out of the parking lot, going so fast he nearly burned rubber.
"What..what does that mean..?"
"You will see soon enough."
The man's words were decisively cryptic and Cam looked worried.
He would soon find out he had good reason to be.