Fic: Palm Springs Conversation: 1/1: L/R
- Title: Palm Springs Conversation
Author: Victoria P. [victoria_p@...]
Summary: Logan. Marie. Driving. Drinking. Brawling. A
hint of sex.
Rating: PG-13 - language, a hint of sex
Disclaimer: Do I look like Stan Lee?
Archive: If you've already got my stuff, yes. If not,
please just let me know you're taking it.
Feedback: Better than a shot of SoCo on cold winter's
Notes: Thanks to Meg, Jen, Dot and Pete. Especially Meg,
who provided the _Mad About You_ snippet. This is a
response to the all-dialogue story challenge on the
Palm Springs Conversation
"Don't even *think* about puttin' the radio on, Marie."
"No. Last time I had nightmares about the freakin'
Septic Octogenarians or whatever that crap was you made
me listen to."
"It was very avant garde, Logan. It was by a new
composer, a piece called, �Mutant Love.' I thought it
"'Big Ten Inch,' honey, *that* woulda been appropriate."
"Oh, you're so mature."
"Hey, at least I listen to music that *sounds* like
music, and not a bunch of wacko political crap with
machinery grindin' in the background. You obviously
missed out on my excellent musical taste. Musta got a
likin' for that shit from ol' Buckethead."
"Erik does like the post-modernists, yeah. And it was an
interesting piece about the sad state of our society,
where free citizens of this great nation are in danger
of having their civil liberties impinged on--"
"Christ, did you absorb Scooter again?"
"You know, I love hearin' you say my name, but not in
"I'm not gettin' into that with you, Marie. This ain't
an episode of _Mad About You_."
"Don't make fun of me, Lo-- wait a minute! You watch
_Mad About You_?"
"Don't get all growly on me, sugar. What the hell were
you doin' watchin' _Mad About You_? It's not exactly at
the top of the list of Manly TV Shows."
"Do I have to tell you?"
"Shit. All right. Used to work in a bar. The owner was a
woman. She made us watch the reruns every night. I
didn't want to, but you know, that Jamie was kinda hot."
"Never mind. That's not the point."
"No, it's not. The point is that you're mocking me,
Logan, when I'm being very serious."
"I know. I just kept waiting for the cheesy music to
start. You know, like those chick movies on Wifetime or
"You watch way too much television."
"Not a whole lot to do when you're on bodyguard duty for
Chuck or Jeannie at one of those damn boring
"Speaking of which--"
"And that craptacular hotel chicken. Have I told you
lately how lousy the food is at some of these so-called
"I hate it when you interrupt me like that."
"Sorry, darlin'. Hey, there's a nice-lookin' steakhouse.
What do you say we stop for some grub? Thinking about
that terrible chicken is makin' me hungry for a good
"No. No. You're not changing the subject. And the
subject is: Why can't I go with you next time?"
"I thought the subject was music. Or, actually, that
avant garde shit you try to pass off as music."
"We moved on from music. We are now discussing why you
won't take me with you to Palm Springs."
"Hmph. How come you get to change the subject but I
"A woman's prerogative."
"Funny how you ain't all about equal rights when the
bias is in your favor, darlin'."
"We can discuss that another time, if you want. Maybe on
the plane to Palm Springs."
"You ain't comin' with us, Marie. Jesus, if I didn't
know better, I'd think you were jealous or something. Me
and Jeannie, alone at the Palm Springs Hilton. Shit,
even Scooter ain't harping on it like you are."
"I've never been to Palm Springs. I hear it's beautiful.
I want to go. Plus, it's eighty-five degrees there,
while here it's freakin' twenty below."
"I thought you liked the cold."
"I like snow, sugar. Up in the mountains, where it
belongs. I don't like big piles of icky gray slush on
the corners and sheets of black ice on the streets. And
I really don't like never feeling warm even when I'm
wearing every stitch of clothing I own."
"It ain't even that cold, Marie. Stop bein' a baby. And
you got me to keep you warm."
"I'm from Mississippi, Logan. Anything under fifty
degrees is cold. So yeah, it's great to cuddle with you,
but I can't spend the whole winter in bed."
"Why not? Sounds good to me."
"Remember that little thing called the X-Men?"
"Oh, yeah. That."
"So anyway, this is your chance to make a big romantic
gesture and take me with you. We can stay an extra
couple of days -- make it a vacation. C'mon, Logan.
It'll be fun."
"Do you remember what happened last time you came with
"That was different. It won't happen again, I swear."
"Marie, you got drunk and did a striptease in the hotel
"At least it was only the sports bar and not the posh
"Christ! I had to fight off half the male population of
Houston to get you back to your room without anyone
touchin' you, not to mention promising Chuckie I
wouldn't let you drink anymore--"
"I'm over twenty-one, Logan. I'm legally entitled--"
"Not when you can't hold your liquor."
"I can so."
"No. No. I'm going to prove this once and for all,
Logan. Stop the car at the next bar we see."
"What'll you be having, hon?"
"Beer. Molson, if you got it."
"Sure thing. And a Shirley Temple for the girl?"
"I'll have a Molson, too. And a shot of Southern
"I'll need to see some ID."
"Don't strain your eyes, sugar. Maybe you should
"I'll be right back with your drinks."
"That was uncalled for, Marie."
"She was checking you out, Logan. And she was rude to me
"That'll be eleven dollars."
"Start us a tab, darlin'. We're gonna be here a while."
"We should've sat at the bar. The bartender is cute."
"Reason number one for not sitting at the bar. Drink up,
Marie. Let's get this show on the road."
"Ah. Nothing like a nice shot of SoCo to warm you up on
a cold winter's night."
"She didn't order that."
"It's on Kenny, the bartender."
"Oh, that's so sweet. ... Mmm. Tasty. What's it called?"
"I have to go thank him."
"Marie, baby, what's wrong?"
"The doors to the bathrooms don't lock. Some asshole
just walked in on me --"
"No, it's all right, Logan. I was done. I was just
washing my hands. ... Have another beer. And a shot.
This Blackhaus stuff is yummy."
"My shift is over at one. Why don't you dump Lolita and
come home with me?"
"Christ, Marie, you broke her nose."
"She knew you were with me and she was sweatin' you
anyway. Nobody hits on my man and gets away with it.
Especially not some peroxide blonde Jerry Springer
reject working at the -- what the hell was the name of
"We're never going *there* again."
"Darlin', I don't think they'd let us in even if we
wanted to go. If they reopen at all."
"Hey, I'm not the one who ripped the copper top off the
"That Kenny punk never shoulda laid a hand on you."
"I kinda did knock out his waitress."
"So, can I go with you now to Palm Springs?"
"Are we back on that again?"
"I proved I can hold my liquor."
"No, you didn't."
"Logan, I had three shots of SoCo and three shots of
that other stuff, and I'm still standing!"
"I looked at the bottle -- eighty proof pussy shots.
Plus, I knocked that skank out with one punch. ...
"Not the puppy dog eyes, baby. I told you that shit
don't work on me."
"Hmm... I think I know what will. ... Ow! What'd you
pull my hair for?"
"Much as I was enjoyin' that, I'd like to make it home
in one piece, and having you goin' down on me ain't
gonna help me concentrate on the road. I'm all yours
when we get home."
"I guess it can wait. ... So I'm going to Palm Springs,
"Yes, Marie. You're going to Palm Springs."
The Muse's Fool: http://www.unfitforsociety.net/musesfool