~ Thud! - a work in progress ~
by Stacia Seaman


Disclaimer: Gabrielle and Xena belong to RenPic, Renee, and Lucy, and Scully belongs to Chris Carter, 1013, and Gillian. I'm just taking them out for a good time. They may be hung over when I return them, but trust me, they're having fun.

Language: We're potty mouths, all of us.

Sex Disclaimer: subtext, innuendo, a nudge and a wink, but nothing graphic.

Location: Washington, D.C., the nation's capital. Some places are real, some (sadly) are now closed, some are made up.


Part 3

"So what do you think, Scully, play it straight through or put it on random?" I asked, waggling the cd case at her.

"In order," she said firmly.

"How did I know you'd say that," I said, under my breath, as I removed Yanni: Live at the Acropolis from the cd player and replaced it with the Bowie disc. Once I'd stashed Yanni in the proper case -- hell's bells, please don't let her play that when I'm around -- I hit play and the mournful sound of Major Tom's last transmission filled the room.

I walked over to the dresser with my makeup and hairbrush. In the mirror I could see Scully rummaging through her gym bag. I gaped at the astonishing variety of items she was pulling out: makeup, sports bra, notepad, impossibly high-heeled shoes, latex gloves, handcuffs, and ohmygod that's a gun. She's Gordon Liddy's dream, stacked and packed. As quickly as it had appeared, the holstered 9mm weapon was tucked back into the gym bag.

Scully must've seen my stunned expression in the mirror; I expected her to laugh at me, but instead she gave me a wry smile. "Would you believe the first person I shot was my partner?"

My eyebrows shot up. "No way." Note to self: do not piss Scully off.

"Yeah." She picked up her makeup bag and moved beside me. We stood in companionable silence, applying our makeup.

* * * * *

"I watch the ripples change their size

but never leave the stream

of warm impermanence and

so the days flow through my eyes,

but still the days seem the same..."

I listened, surprised, as Gabrielle softly sang. What she lacked in tonal quality she more than made up for in expression. Her voice trailed off and, looking up, I caught a glimpse of regret in her green eyes. I cocked my head slightly and she said, "Those lines remind me of somebody." Scully gave Gabrielle a sympathetic look before resuming her careful application of mascara.

Smiling, I waved Gabrielle over and gathered up my cosmetics to create a spot for her at the big mirror. Sitting on the bed, I looked on in awe as she quickly applied a minimal amount of makeup. I pride myself on my speedy routine, but she puts me to shame. She was done in three minutes.

Scully had moved away from the mirror and held up the black skirt we had chosen for her. "Wow, this is really nice," she said, peeking at the label. "DKNY. I like her stuff." She picked up the rest of her clothing and her gym bag and turned to look at us. "Is there a mirror in Xena's room?"

Gabrielle nodded. "Inside the closet door."

"Thanks," Scully said before walking out.

I stood up from the bed and skipped over to the closet. "So, have you decided what to wear yet?" I pulled out a butter-soft suede tank top and miniskirt, then was struck with a thought. "Uh, Gabrielle?"

"Yes?"

"Does Xena have as many clothes as you?"

"No, she's found a look and she pretty much sticks with it. Don't even think about looking in there. I'm taller than you and you see how her stuff fits me," she gestured at the oversized robe she wore.

I smiled. "Actually, I'm more worried about Scully. Is there anything in Xena's closet that's gonna freak her out?"

"That's a good question." She didn't seem too worried, instead focusing her attention on her clothing options. "Let's see...what to wear..."

She stood by her closet, arms folded and a hand tucked under her chin, looking from the suede outfit to me. She raised her eyebrows speculatively. I thrust the garments back into the closet, saying, "Uh, it's probably a little warm for a dance club, right?"

She gave me a sidelong glance. "Uh-huh."

We began pulling out garments, tossing them on the bed for further consideration. I was starting to feel more energized, enjoying the upbeat song that was now playing. Without thinking, I found myself singing along, "Oh, wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am!" I cracked up when I realized that Gabrielle had shouted the offending phrase even more loudly than I had. Wow, tonight is going to be a riot!

I moved over to the bed to look over my clothing options. Gabrielle was pawing through the closet, muttering to herself. "Aha!" She reached into the very back and, precariously balanced on her tiptoes, grabbed a couple of hangers and pulled out something very...yellow.

"Well, what do you think?" She held up the saffron-colored garments for my inspection - a close-fitting crop top made of a textured cottony material and a long, flowing gauze skirt. The vibrant yellow of the fabric picked up the golden highlights in her hair and skin.

"Pretty." The word floated out of my mouth before I could stop it.

She shot me an amused glance, then walked over to her dresser and began rifling through one of the drawers.

I returned my attention to the pile of clothing on the bed, rejecting most of the skimpy tops chosen by Gabrielle. I was reaching for a micro-mini that I had initially mistaken for a fanny pack when my hand brushed against something incredibly soft. Tossing the skirt aside, I picked up a forest green wrap-around sweater.

"Oh, Gabrielle," I breathed, "This is beautiful!"

"Why didn't I think of that?" Gabrielle looked at me in the mirror. "I used to wear that all the time when my hair was long. It was redder then. My hair. The sun seems to lighten it a lot more now..."

I rolled my eyes at Gabrielle's stream-of-consciousness explanation. "What did you wear with it?"

She smiled impishly as she moved toward the part of the closet housing the leather skirts. "You're gonna love it."

I groaned and lay back across the bed.

"S'matter, you afraid of a dead cow?" she teased, before tossing a short skirt to me.

I reached down and felt the soft cloth of the garment. Woven. Definitely not leather. With a sigh of relief, I sat up to take a look.

The dark brown skirt appeared at first glance to be a wrap-around, but a second look revealed four panels that were stitched together to mid-thigh and then allowed to hang separately. The waistband, an intricately woven design of forest colors, was designed to ride low on the hips.

I smiled. It was perfect.

I grabbed some undies out of my gym bag, picked up my outfit, and headed for the bathroom to change.

**********

Gabrielle's clothes fit me perfectly; the cropped sweater set off the design of the skirt's waistband and the skirt itself ended just above my knees. Wow, she must've shown a lot of skin in this.

Looking around the bathroom, I realized that standing on the toilet was the only way to get a full-length view of myself in the tiny mirror. I don't think so. I hung the robe on the back of the door and headed down the hall toward Xena's room.

The bedside lamp bathed the empty room in a rich light. She's still in here. Scully would never waste electricity. As quietly as I could, I walked over to the closet and peeked into the open door. Scully was standing just inside, regarding the contents with something approaching awe.

"Damn." It was an acid trip gone horribly awry. Spandex shirts in every color of the rainbow. Dozens of them. "You'd think she'd at least color-code them."

Scully winced. "You'd think."

"Wait a minute..." I pulled a shirt off the rack and looked closely at it. "This is a bike jersey. See the back pockets?"

"Well, that makes sense. She's got all of those tools," Scully gestured toward the bookcase.

"So what does she wear when she's not riding?" I re-hung the shirt and moved toward the back of the closet. "Aha!" I reached for a dark brown dress.

"What is it?"

I almost dropped the garment, surprised at its weight--This thing must weigh 15 pounds!-- then held it up for her inspection.

"Oh my god."

The sleeveless dress was sewn of chocolate brown leather (saddle grade, judging by its weight) and studded with brass. Although I held the hanger at eye level, the short skirt ended well below my knees.

"That's quite a dress," Scully breathed.

"But wait, there's more," I said, handing her the plastic bag containing the chest and back armor that accompanied the dress. "We have *got* to ask Gabrielle about this."

Then, as an afterthought, "Once we get a few drinks in her."

"Speaking of Gabrielle, she's probably wondering what's happened to us." Scully took a last lingering glance at the shelves before stepping back into the room.

As I replaced the dress and armor I quickly looked around the rest of the closet. There was a pair of amazing leather boots that I could have used as waders, some shelves filled with faded jeans and neatly stacked t-shirts, and, in the very back of the closet, several gorgeous silk dresses. Gabrielle's roommate was becoming more intriguing by the moment.

Scully was digging around in her gym bag when I walked back into Xena's room. She pulled out two tubes of lipstick, looking at them thoughtfully.

The soft gray knit tank top and cardigan complemented her auburn hair and blue eyes, hinting at the curves of her body without revealing too much of her ivory skin. The skirt fell almost to the ground and the side slit parted slightly to reveal a well-muscled leg. She was wearing sheer black stockings and three-inch black heels.

"Wow."

She tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear.

"How do you walk in those things?"

She gave me the look of death.

"Kidding. You look great."

She smiled.

"But seriously, how *do* you walk in those?" I stood in front of the full-length mirror, examining my reflection.

"They aren't so bad once you get used to them. And when you're my height..."

"Easy," I growled.

"Sorry."

I twirled around a couple of times. Yes, tights were definitely in order if I didn't want to give everyone a free show. Scully had apparently drawn the same conclusion, judging by the position of her eyebrows.

"What are your choices?" I gestured at her lipstick.

"Marrakesh and Sheer Plum."

"Definitely the plum."

She tossed the other lipstick back in her bag and we went in search of Gabrielle.

* * * * *

"I thought you might want these," Gabrielle handed me some brand-new tights. She practically glowed in her yellow outfit, which showcased her perfectly flat, perfectly tanned midriff.

"Thank you," I said distractedly, watching the play of her abdominal muscles as she moved. She's not gonna have trouble finding a dance partner in that.

I pulled out the opaque hosiery and tossed the package in my duffel bag as a reminder to buy her a replacement pair. When I'd pulled the tights on, she gestured toward my legs and asked, "Boots or flats?"

"I vote for boots," Scully blotted her lipstick and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Uh...." I definitely wanted to see the footwear in question before making a decision.

"I used to wear boots with that outfit," Gabrielle mused, crossing her arms across her chest. "Of course, my legs were bare, and it was summer-"

"Uh..."

"Do you have cowboy boots? She *is* from Texas." Thanks, Scully. Just remember, paybacks are a bitch.

"No. Well, yes. But not to wear with that," Gabrielle jerked her head toward me. "I usually wore those." She pointed to the soft leather boots I'd noticed earlier.

"They're nice, Gabrielle, really, but..."

She cocked her head at me.

"I think it might get a little warm-"

"In the club," she finished. "Yeah, yeah. How about these?" She held up a pair of tawny brown suede flats.

"Great," I breathed.

Scully snorted and said something under her breath.

I turned toward her. "What was that?"

She shrugged her shoulders and scratched the back of her neck.

I snatched the shoes out of Gabrielle's hands and put them on. "We about ready?"

"Yeah. Just one last check in the mirror."

All three of us crowded around the dresser. We looked good. Really good.

"This is gonna be so much fun!" Gabrielle put her arms around Scully and me and gave us a quick squeeze. My eyes met Scully's in the mirror and we smiled at each other.

We pulled on our coats as we left the apartment. Scully wore a black trenchcoat, Gabrielle a black leather motorcycle jacket, and I a denim jacket.

Gabrielle lifted my hair off my neck and examined the intricate fabric design I'd sewn onto the back of my jacket. "I never noticed that before. Where did you get it?"

"Oh, the mola? It was a gift from a friend." I smiled. "He said he saw it in a marketplace and knew right away that I'd find some use for it."

"It's nice. Unique." She tugged open the front door. "Shall we?"

* * * * *

Continued in Part 4.



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