Okay, this is Kox. Don't shoot me. Keep in mind who's writing this, and you'll understand. :ph43r: :clear5

I came up with this during a random brainstorming session with Het. (which will explain the dialogue.) Don't mind the crappiness. Tally ho!


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A Lesson Learned.




Fox sat patiently, waiting for Kay to appear. She finally did, dressed in a sequined shirt and strappy sandals, her hair freshly flat-ironed and her makeup newly applied.

Fox sighed. It was going to be hard to let her down. He stood, giving her a brief hug. He noticed the way her eyes glittered with infatuation. His stomach churned.

“Kay,” he murmured.

Her eyes sparkled, and widened. “Yes?”

He sighed again. “This is hard for me to say…but this can’t work.”

He felt a pang of guilt at how her face suddenly crumpled and tears appeared in her eyes.

“Kay…” he started.

“Why??!” she asked suddenly. “Why can’t this work?! Is it me? Maria?”

He blinked, wondering why she had included her daughter. “No, no. It’s not you,”

“It’s me,” she finished bitterly. “I’ve heard it before.” He turned sadly and moved to leave. “Fox!!!” he turned. “But Fox…I thought we had something special!”

Fox shrugged. “Kay…I love Whitney with all of my heart. What we had…it was just sex. You know that.”

He winced as she hit him – again. He smiled bitterly. Not nearly as hard as one of Whitney’s shots. He winced as he got another one, and another. Finally, he ducked and grabbed her wrist before she could land a fourth.

“Cut it out!”

She began to cry loudly, and obnoxiously. He screwed his eyes shut. “Fox!!!” she wailed. “We had sex on the roof – and in my car too! And in the trees – and that movie theater down the street…! Doesn’t that count for something?!?! ANYTHING?!?!?”

He glared at her sourly. “YES! It does!!! I’m on antibiotics for a syphilis infection!!!”

She froze. “Are you serious!”

He gaped. “YES, I’m serious!!!

Her hand flew to her chest. “Syphilis…how would I get that?!”

He scowled at her. “I don’t know. It’s your vagina.” Her eyes widened. “Maybe Miguel left you a nasty little present.” He glared at her. “I’ve had enough. Go, Kay.”

“NO!”

“Leave! Go away!!”

“NOOOO!!!!”

“KAY!”

“But--” she wailed. “I NEED YOU!” She grabbed onto his sleeve, her fingers digging into his skin. He tried his hardest to pull her off.

“What in the hell do you need me for!?”

She sobered, apparently thinking. “…Maria needs a daddy.”

His dark eyes widened, and he struggled even more. “Go find your daughter’s syphilis-infected sperm donor! I have a son!!”

“No you don’t!”

“Yes I do!! I’m getting a damn DNA test because I KNOW Miles is mine!!”

Her eyes glimmered. “Such dedication…you’d be such a good role model!” He finally wrenched off her fingers and fell to the ground, staggering to his feet and running away.

“FOOOOOOOOOOX!!!!” she shrieked. She began pulling on her hair. “LOOK AT ME!! I HAVE A HAIRCUT!! AND HIGHLIGHTS!!” She began to cry desperately. “I’m gorgeous!!!! Come back! PLEASE!!? FOX!!”

He continued running until her voice faded into the wind. He panted, shaking his head.

That would teach him to stick his Johnson into just anything.

He rolled his eyes and turned.

Now which way was that convent?

Whitney sat in a rocking chair, keeping a careful eye on her embroidery, watching the intricate detail of her stitching. Rocking back and forth, she hummed a tune to herself.

Embroidery wasn’t the first thing she would think to try. Anything to pass the time, to keep her mind off of little Miles – or Fox for that matter – was welcome to her.

And Chad, too.

She grimaced, as Sister Mary Katherine (lol) came into the room, another letter in her hands. She dismissively dropped it into Whitney’s lap and exited without a word.

Whitney shouted a quick apology, and rolled her eyes at the envelope in her lap. She held it at arm’s length, trying not to inhale the cheap cologne it reeked of. It was the tenth letter from Chad in the same amount of days. She had tossed the other nine in a pile, never opened, but she decided to open this one, just to humor him.

She shouldn’t have bothered.

Whitney –

I have a serious dillemon. (See my big word?? I read an article in an Essence magazine…it said that speaking good to kids keeps them off drugs!) Miles is great. He knows his daddy so well. Too bad he’s whining all the time. Valerie said something about sunlight, but I didn’t listen because I’m too great of a dad to listen to *her*. He’ll figure out that he needs to tough it out to be a REAL MAN. But the little guy came from me, so he’ll be an Eiensteen – whatever that guy’s name was.

Whitney grimaced again. She was glad that she read this letter, though it made her feel was a sickening to her stomach, wondering why she could’ve left her child with such a halfwit.

Miles is crying for his mommy. Valerie is doing her best, but I think Miles thinks she’s some kind of a bitch or something – oops! Did I say that out loud? Ah, whatever. He’s not old enough to hear yet anyway.

She felt tears streak down her face. Her son, her poor, innocent son…

What was I talking about again? Oh, yeah. Miles needs him mom and I need you too!! Do you know how hard it is to pick outfits now that you’re not here anymore to help?! I’ve been wearing that sweatsuit again, and Valerie says it’s starting to smell funny. Whatever. I can’t fit a washer in here anyway.

She started to skim over the next few paragraphs, not wanting to know the full extent of his stupidity.

Why haven’t you been talking to me, Whitney?!? This is my 20th letter. (Whitney could feel her heart skip a beat – and not in a good way. No wonder Mother Superior was so angry. She had better apologize.) You haven’t responded to any of my emails or phone calls. Did you turn off your cell to avoid me? After I got that ‘Shaft’ ring-tone especially for my number?! That’s messed up, Whit, it really is.

She rolled her eyes. For God’s sake, she was in a convent, not on vacation! She felt a pang of horror.

She needed to get her son away from him!!

She scanned the rest of the letter. Most of it was inconsequential, and inane anyway, until Chad described Fox coming to visit.

Fox came around today. Told me not to feed Miles with coffee creamer. He needs to mind his own business, but he has this crazy idea that Miles is his. He is D-U-M-M! He said something about DNA tests, but I wasn’t listening. I feel a CONNECTION with him – Fox doesn’t know jack. Haha! Get it? Jack?? Like that board game! (Remember that one time I beat you? I couldn’t believe you didn’t know what the sound a cat made! HA! Must be because I’m so geniusy and stuff so everyone else seems stupid.)

She stumbled backwards, feeling sick to her stomach. Coffee creamer?? She suddenly felt faint and collapsed into her chair.

Chad couldn’t care for a houseplant, let alone a child.

What had she put her poor baby through? Oh, God!

She jumped, hearing a light tapping on her window. Speak of the devil – she blanched and scrambled to her feet.

The window slid open and Chad toppled through it.

“Whitney! Baby! I’ve come to rescue you!!”

She recoiled at the stench reeking from his sweatsuit. She covered her nose and mouth, not wanting to get nauseous.

“I scaled that wall for you! Doesn’t it show my devotion?!”

Whitney eyed him skeptically. “This is a one-story building, Chad.”

His mouth dropped open, and he looked around, stuck. “But…I rented climbing equipment…”

She shook her head incredulously. How did she not see how ridiculous he was?

“Chad, this is a bad idea, you should go…”

“NO!!” he cut her off defiantly, waving his fist in protest. “I love you and I won’t leave until I can reunite our family!” He looked like the poor-man’s version of Superman…or the washed up, broke producer version.

Either way, she felt a violent churning in her stomach.

“You’re insane, Chad, we can never be together…”

Chad struck another dramatic pose. “Who says?!” She stepped backwards again. “I don’t!! You don’t!” She ignored the nonsense of his statements, continuing to edge towards the door. “It’s FATE!!!!!! DESTINY!!!!!!!!” He deflated a bit, noticing her slight anger.

“I don’t want you here!”

“Hey – you knew I was coming right? Didn’t you read my emails? I had a countdown going and everything!”

The frown on her lips dropped into a thin, straight line. “Chad, I don’t get email here.”

“Oh.”

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, and he perked up.

“Can we still be together?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Come on, why not?!”

“Chad, you’re getting ridiculous…” He lurched after her, grabbing her arm.

“NO!! DON’T LEAVE ME! PLEASE!!!”

She shook her head furiously, looking for an exit, or possibly a weapon.

“You’re a nun, right? That means you love Jesus! I’m like Jesus!”

She struggled in his grip, and fumbled out of the room, him in close pursuit. Finding the nearest bathroom, she grabbed the first can of disinfectant she could find, spraying it straight into his eyes in one fluid motion.

He screamed, a pathetically high-pitched squeal, more like it, and fell to the ground in the fetal position with a whimper.

She leapt over his prone body, but not before swiping his wallet in desperation. Quickly, she penned a note to Mother Superior, promising that she would reimburse her for the many times Chad called Collect.

Finding no other close exit, she jumped out of the window, pulling it down behind her. She could vaguely see Chad’s form rocking back and forth, still on the ground.

Using the spare change (which was the majority of the money in his wallet, other than a few fives), she hailed a taxi.

That would teach her to fall for the first man who crossed through town.

She shuddered. No wonder her father hated him so much.

She could hear the piercing cry through the convent walls. “WHITNEYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!! COME BACK TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Her eyes widened, thankful that the taxi had finally come. She rushed into the cab, sliding into the seat.

She closed the door, just as Chad reached it, banging on the windows.

“You can live with me in my studio! I CAN MAKE YOU ALL THE TEA YOU WILL EVER NEED!!!!!!!”

She begged the stunned driver to start the car, and he did, Chad running beside it insolently.

“STOP WHITNEY!! PLEASE!! I’LL CUT MY HAIR! I’LL WASH MY SUIT!! I’D RIDE IN THE BACK OF AN AMBULANCE FOR YOU, BABY!”

She screamed for the driver to step on the gas as Chad was left in a trail of dust, crying pitifully.

She sunk down in the seat, sighing.

She had to make things up to Fox.

But first, she had to rescue her son from the clutches of hell.

Her resolve hardened and she smiled, determination apparent,. She could hear Chad screaming but she didn’t look back.

If she had, she would’ve noticed the blue Porsche pulling up to the Convent, and the tall blond driving it, determined to save her from the clutches of an incestual freak.