skydark | Luncheon Affray

Author: Skydark
Pairing: Nigel/Theo
Rating: R for a little language
Time: 1 hour....and 7 minutes [hangs head in shame]
Notes: ummmm....cattiness abounds.

Well all I have to say is sitting me at the same table as Charlene ‘Barbie’ Huntcliff was a well thought out and carefully laid plan to provide some free entertainment.

Despite the buffer of Theodore and Pasty Caldwell there was still ample glaring space and enough static in the atmosphere to make the hair on the back of my neck rise. We both carefully drew our invisible battle lines and took advantage of our unfortunate cover in the guise of my lover and some poor housewife looking for a greater purpose.

It is no great secret to the Dunwoody Women’s Society for Understanding and Diversity, (referred to in some circles as Dominatrix Will Suck You Dry, yes yes, ‘u’ for ‘y’, I know it’s not a proper acronym, but it’s rather amusing) that Charlene and I have had our differences in the past. Our rather loud and haughty differences. It has to do with a nasty little rumor about Trevor, her husband, a bottle of Chivas Regal, myself and a bungalow some four summers ago at Twilla’s ‘Much Simpering About Nothing’ Inaugural Speech Bash for our most recent national leader.

How I adore these little luncheon-speaking engagements. It does my ego a hearty handshake to have 40 or so prettily bored business tycoon trophies batting their eyelashes and sighing at my every word. After surrendering the podium with the knowledge nothing could follow my carefully prepared speech on the advantages of swarthy Latino boys dominating the pool maintenance industry, I had the misfortune to wander too close to Charlene’s troops in the trenches and thus found myself cornered near the token fichus tree as helpless as Imelda at a shoe sale.

From the slow, bubbling and oozing center of the tight knot of Laura Ashley hell came a pink and gray viper with a carefully maintained coif and the stench of Chanel No. 5 taken to the extreme. We eyed each other over the banquet room carpet, each waiting for the other to show a momentary slip of weakness, a clamminess of the hand or twitch of the eye. Being female she has the advantage of my upbringing, ladies first.

“Well,well,well, Mr. Cavanaugh, so nice of you to come to our little gathering this afternoon, you realize you were only invited because Fabio canceled.” Her smile was of the sort, that if captured, could keep frozen food fresh for years.

“It must have been heartbreaking for you Mrs. Huntcliff my dear, to have to listen to a speech instead of just look at the pictures. “ I returned, with my own acuminous smile, then to intersect a little deeper I added, “How is Trevor? I haven’t seen him around the club in ages. Keeping the leash short are we?”

I should have realized this would invite a free-for-all. I really must learn to control my baser instincts. But then again, no, why curb my vibrant dynamism and deny the world a good time? Her voice hit a note which I’m sure her Bischon Frise knew well and her pink glazed lips drew back to reveal her implied canines.

“You have a lot of nerve asking me about mah husband.” She blusters.

Ah, here comes her ‘Southern Belle’ accent, delightfully Georgian in the lower income way.

“Your husband is a wonderful billiards player,” I counter, casting about for a waiter and a glass of Dom, “A game of sink the eight ball just isn’t the same without him.” I purr. Really, how do I do it? Go me.

Her dress has dimmed in comparison to the complexion of her cheeks.

“You certainly are full of yourself.” She put one hand on her hip and her carefully and craftily sculpted chin in the air, I do so wish I knew the name of the fellow who does her work, and looked down her aquiline nose at me. I really must ferret out the name of this master of the scalpel at some later date. No doubt Trevor has receipts. “If I weren’t a lady of breeding I wouldn’t hesitate to make a scene here Mr. Cavanaugh.” She intoned with a little smirk, her team of crack assassins milled appreciatively.

“Mrs. Huntcliff, your breeding has nothing to do with it.” My teeth must have glinted because I caught the flash in the crystal champagne glass of one of her fellows. “It is merely a lack of fortitude, the same being said for your prowess in choosing a husband, anyone can see Trevor does have the taste for the finer things in life and the good sense to camouflage them well enough for good social graces. Were he I and I he I might have done the same thing as too ingratiate myself to daddy and his money. Nevertheless, because I respect him as a compatriot in the never-ending struggle for good taste and fine dining I shall do him this little favor and walk away while you still have your nose in the air and your tail quivering between your legs. Which is probably the only thing you’ve had there for some time. One wonders how you don’t spin webs seeing as how the cobwebs have collected.”

One is never prepared for physical combat. Oh I do know I should have expected it, but to have a 110 pound harridan launch themselves at you, and you wearing a Christian Dior original that simply withers at the first wrinkle? Well, it is beyond comprehension. I’m not certain when Theodore became involved but it was somewhere between ‘Fucking homo home wrecker’ and ‘Mary Kay caked misanthrope’. Needless to say I was quite ruffled and had to be ushered off to the bathroom where Theo poured half a bottle of Zinfandel down my throat and fanned me with a handkerchief.

Delores Fontaine, the organizer of this little adventure, knocked politely on the door and asked me if I needed more wine. She’s really quite the dear. Theo assured her that I was fine, still beyond speech but my color was returning and she left us alone to recover. Theo had a darling smirk on his face as he tried in vain to smooth my lapels.

“What is so amusing?” I ask, trying to look grim and heroically pale.

“Nigel,” Theo said with a wrinkle of his nose and a twinkle in his eyes, “You’re such a brute, it makes me hot.” And he winked at me.

It seems I should take up sparring full time.

Theo always keeps Nigel teetering on the edge of his libido here.

Edit: OOPS! Oh well would have linked from here anyways. Posted at