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24 March 2010 @ 08:22 am
Random Adam/Monica  
From toestastegood's prompt: "Adam/Monica, dressing-up box"



This is set in the "Finesse" 'verse, where Monica is a Hollywood stuntwoman and she and Adam are living together in L.A.

She'd started bringing them home once in a while. A feathered hat. A vest made of faux leather with a tear, like a knife slash, through the front. Ladies' gloves. A plush monkey. The oddities piled up in the bedroom, and Adam stuffed them dutifully under the bed when they got in the way, but he didn't say a word.

It was when Monica came home with the Miss America sash that Adam first called her on it. "You're stealing office supplies,"he declared.

"Oh, the king of virtue and morality's gonna give me a lesson," she said, rolling her eyes and straightening out the sash before folding it neatly and laying it on the counter. "Anyway, I'm not stealing them. They're throwaways."

"The sash that says Miss America is a throwaway?"

"It's not the real Miss America," she chided him gently. "They're doing a picture 'bout it. Miss America saves the world or something. I don't know. Half these things never even get released."

"So you're dumpster-diving in the costume department. That's attractive. Not to mention classy."

Of course, the next day she brought him home a long brown trenchcoat with brass buttons. It fit him to a tee, and he didn't complain one whit about that.


After a while her collection was too big to fit in her closet or under the bed, so Adam bought a trunk - a big honking brown monstrosity with wrought-iron hinges and a brass-plated lock that came down over the lip of the thing but never quite closed entirely. "Your dressing-up box," he said, presenting it to her.

"My what?"

"Dressing-up box. Don't you know what that is?"

"You're not speaking American again," she told him pointedly.

He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, it's a place for you to put your little toys that you bring home."

"My vibrators?"

"Monica...!"

"You're such a prude. I get it, I get it. Please, you're too easy sometimes, y'know that."

He grumbled nothing that was in any language either of them knew.

She pulled him down, wrapped her arms around him. "No, it's wonderful. Thank you. Thank you. Our costume chest, full of fun things we can play with. Thank you, Adam."

His curiosity was piqued now. "Define 'play with.'"

The next night Monica put on a pirate's hat and an eyepatch and threatened to swashbuckle him off the plank of the poop deck, whatever that was supposed to mean.

Adam promptly repurposed the Miss America sash as a ninja's headband and jumped on her when she was trying to read.

From there on it was a full-blown war of the costume pieces. Monica would come home with more and more ridiculous items. A giant chicken head that they had to throw out because it wouldn't fit in the box. A spiked collar and matching leather gloves that made Adam look like a punk rocker. A superhero cape that ended up falling to the floor, the two of them on top of it after about thirty seconds of posing.

Then Monica came home with a dress. A vampiress' low-cut, high-backed evening dress, and she straightened her hair and put on violet eyeshadow and stood waiting for Adam in the gown and her highest pair of stiletto heels.

Adam walked in the door and dropped his grocery bags and his jaw with the same swiftness.

"Good eeeevening," Monica purred.

"Oh," he declared when he had picked up his jaw (the groceries stayed on the floor). "Oh, Papa likes."

She giggled. "Vould you like to bite my neck?" she said, craning her head to the side.

"Er," he said dumbly. "er, I'd rather prefer the other way around. More of a chance of recovery and all."

The groceries would end up having to be thrown out, because they were abandoned on the floor for a good hour or two, melting and spoiling, while Adam got his neck bitten well and truly by a ravenous vampiress.

Panting raggedly, they lay side by side in bed.

"Holy." Monica said.

"Yes, my neck was very holey," Adam said, and Monica whapped him. "Old puns never get old."

"They were old to begin with," Monica said with a groan. "So. Does this mean I win the costume contest?"

"That depends," Adam said, trailing kisses along her collarbone and breasts, "how you define win. I'd rather think I'm the one who came out on top."

"Um..."

"Figuratively," he noted. "And you blame me for puns. I can't win."

"Actually," she said, "you can."

"So I do win the contest?" He grinned.

"Sure," she said. "But only because I like the consolation prize."
 
 
 
Shona: heroes - monicatoestastegood on March 24th, 2010 06:50 pm (UTC)
♥ I love you and am going to marry you one day. This is so freaking sexy and adorable all at once! I love this 'verse so much - you are so good at writing their interactions, and I am altogether rejecting their canon fates and instituting this instead. And, hee, I love that you added in our dialect confusion. Totally works. ;) And, SQUEE, the image of Monica dressed up as a sexy vampire is one that is going to happily stay with me for a while.

Also?
"Oh," he declared when he had picked up his jaw (the groceries stayed on the floor). "Oh, Papa likes."
This hits kinks that I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW I HAD. Adam, you sly dog.

Srsly, I love you forever and always. You are fab and awesome and ridiculously talented. I'd be jealous if I didn't get to totally benefit from it.
Tiptoe39: squeetiptoe39 on March 24th, 2010 07:06 pm (UTC)
OMGOMGOMG. *lovefest* Seriously, this makes my day. My year. God, what nice things for someone like you (who is pretty much what I want to be - prolific and always thoughtful with such an ear for imagery and thematic elements) to say about me! I'm so so so glad you liked it. And I always have way more fun writing your prompts than I expect to. So you freaking rock. thank you so much hon!!!! I love you right on back and then some!!