Werewolves, High School, College/University, Married/Domestic, Noir, Prison
I had toyed around with getting another 10-drabble fill for the cycle completed but I got too sleepy to finish last night. I still wanted to post the ones I did finish because I think I want to do a series of Golden Girls High School AU drabbles starting with this week's prompt!
“Rose!” Dorothy called, pushing open the kitchen door. She held up the mangled remains of a pair of blue velvet pumps, shaking it at Rose. “This has to stop.”
“How do you know it was me?” Rose asked sheepishly.
“I used my powers of deduction.” Dorothy deadpanned. “There were several dyed blond hairs found at the scene and the shoes smell lightly of herring and you’re the only one in this house who turns into a dog once a month!”
“Well, you’re the one who said it would be too embarrassing to buy me a squeaky toy!” Rose insisted defensively.
Blanche set her tray down as she straddled the bench. “Don’t look now but Melanie Bushman has been undressing me with her eyes since calculus.”
“Blanche, I’m trying to eat.” Dorothy protested.
“There’s nothin’ wrong with a healthy expression of sexual appetites.”
“It is all you seem to talk about…” Rose said gently. “It just makes Dorothy feel bad because Stan was bad in bed last night.
“Rose!” Dorothy snapped. “I told you that in confidence.”
“Not all it’s cracked up to be.” Dorothy sighed.
Blanche put her hand over Dorothy’s. “You just didn’t have the right partner.”
“Do you think that’s a real thing, women experimenting with other women in college?” Dorothy asked Blanche, walking back to the room she shared with her and Rose Lindstrom.
“I could see it.” Blanche shrugged. “Women do have a certain appeal…” She stared off, lost in thought, biting her lip.
“So, you would?”
“I’d think about it.” Blanche admitted.
Dorothy pulled out her keys and opened the door. Rose and Jean separated hastily.
“Hi Dorothy.” Jean said, flustered, trying to tuck her shirt back in.
“Jean stopped by and I said she could wait for you…” Rose said, cheeks red.
Dorothy entered the kitchen, practically dragging her tired limbs. She slumped down in the chair.
“Rough day at school?” Blanche frowned.
“It was my turn to supervise detention… that should be what they use in gitmo. One hour of that and I was ready to tell all of my deepest dark secrets just to get out of there.”
“Isn’t it a two detention?”
“Poor Dorothy.” Blanche cooed, rubbing her shoulders sweetly. “Just sit there. I’ll fix you a plate.”
“Thank you.” Dorothy whimpered.
Blanche came back with two plates and set them down, leaning in to kiss Dorothy softly.
She was a tall drink of water, a tall, dark, and handsome woman. I was instantly transfixed, beguiled by the sensuous figure she cut. She looked dapper in her clean lined pinstripe pants and jacket that fit her so well it may as well have been painted on.
She looked like the kind of woman who knew how to treat another woman… how to touch her… how to draw orgasm after orgasm out of her shaking lips. But I was getting ahead of myself.
“Dorothy Zbornak.” I repeated breathlessly.
Oh, I was in trouble alright. Trouble’s name was Dorothy Zbornak.
“Dorothy?” Blanche pouted, appearing at Dorothy’s cubicle.
Dorothy looked up from the worn out copy of The Feminine Mystique. “Do you want to cuddle?”
“How did you know.” Blanche batted her eyelashes.
“Whenever you look like you’re about to go full Scarlet O’Hara, I know you’re going to ask me for something.” Dorothy scooted back..
Blanche smiled, taking her place and drawing Dorothy’s arm over her body. “Tell me about what you’re gonna do when you get out.”
“We both know I’m not getting out of here.”
“I just mean, a hypothetical. A what if. Would we be together?”
(and, yes, in my mind, Dorothy killed Stan)