Reeling from the incarceration of her mother and accustomed to a life on the streets, Raven Vlade is immediately ostracised from the clique of teenagers inhabiting downtown Thursville. Living with her lascivious Uncle is traumatic enough, but when coupled with her new school's evidently elitist system, the stunning vagrant finds herself in need of a dangerous diversion. Nicky Mayfair, an effervescent and popular cheerleader, is awed by the arrival of the enigmatic stranger, yet Raven's lowly status as 'trailer trash' bridges a gap between the would-be lovers. The class divide needs to be conquered, but does Nicky have the courage to succumb to temptation and defy the stifling conventions of her town? Or are the disturbing repercussions enough to deter her?
Disclaimers: Ohhh....errrr! Be still my beating heart, will the excitement never cease?
Dammit..... the characters of Xena: Warrior Princess are NOT mine... (but not for my lack of trying! <g>) So I suppose that if my characters 'accidentally' resemble the gorgeous creatures we all know and love, then it must be pure coincidence, huh? That's my story and I'm sticking to it! Ha! Sue me... I DARE you!
Sex: Gods.... Yessssss! Need I say more? For those of you who go straight to the sex disclaimers, see how kind I am for making this extra bold so that you don't have to strain your lil' eyes on your quest for smut.... errr-humph, I mean the ultimate expression of love....?
If you're under 18 years old, then I truly sympathise with your dismal situation, having just turned 18 myself... come back when you've 'grown up' a bit, OK? Believe me when I say that the world of fanfic is MORE than worth the return trip!
Violence: Yup.... some of that, too. I hope you're not all adverse to a bit of blood, guts and gore.... Hmmm - if so, then you'd better scuttle on back to the land of Disney, I'm sure good ol' Mary Poppins can think of something interesting for you to play with!!! <VBG>
Hurt/Comfort: Probably... Hey, you can't expect me to elaborate on everything!
HEY! LISTEN UP! - This lil' piece of fanfic is dedicated to the most amazing woman on this earth, my precious Gemmy. I couldn't have done this without your ever eager 'helping hand' to guide me. Although fate may prove fickle, sweetheart, my heart will remain forever constant. I love you Gem.
Hmmm.... OK, I wouldn't complain too much if any of you lovely readers out there wanted to graciously grant me with some of your priceless thoughts. (A kiss-ass? Who? Me? Hee, hee! You bet!)
Feedback to: Snap_0101@hotmail.com
Right, on with the show!
Multitudes of dense greenness passed by in a hectic mass of unrecognisable foliage as the two occupants of the dirty old Chevy truck sat rigidly in their seats, each maintaining a safe distance between their bodies and determinedly ignoring the other occupant as the hot sun beat down upon the dusty interior of the vehicle.
Raven looked briefly across at the middle-aged man seated beside her. At the age of thirty nine, her Uncle Charles looked more in the region of fifty-five. A hard life and pressure at work had added more than a fair share of worry lines to his bland and somewhat scruffy countenance.
Charles sighed in relief as he finally pulled up outside of his decrepit trailer. Signs of laziness and neglect could easily be detected from both the outside and the interior of the mobile home. Crusted paint peeled off the once modestly decorated silver van and decaying clumps of moss and weeds clung to the deeply embedded wheels.
Sighing in repulsion at the dismal sight of her new home, Raven casually brushed a lock of dark hair away from her outwardly expressionless face. Watching her effortlessly pull a heavy green duffel bag from the back of his battered pick-up truck, Charles turned awkwardly to face his incarcerated sister's only child. Although he wanted to assert his authority from the outset, he was somewhat intimidated by the six foot Amazon that was his niece - who wouldn't be when the girl appeared to have more muscles than Rambo? "Raven," he ventured cautiously, "I want ya ta feel at home 'ere. But I won't be puttin' up wid no trouble....ya hear me?"
Raven turned her startlingly pale blue eyes to study her Uncle's shorter frame. Obviously the older man was accustomed to living alone, and his profusely sweating forehead indicated his apprehension at assuming responsibility for a wayward seventeen year old girl. 'Oh fuck, this is gonna be fun,' she thought silently, whilst shrugging her impressively broad shoulders and shifting the heavy duffel bag to ease the mounting discomfort its weight incurred.
"Sure thing Uncle Charles," she stated calmly, not bothering to inform him that perhaps asking for no trouble was a bit too much, seeing that trouble inevitably followed her wherever she ventured.
Charles let out a relived sigh and passed the tall girl a spare key he had copied for her. "Well 'ere ya go girlie," he said slowly, whilst rubbing his sweaty hands on his beer-stained trousers." I think we'll get on fine....You just stay outta my way and I'll leave you alone wid your own business. Oh and welcome to Thursville," he muttered as an afterthought, absently scratching the back of his balding head as he stalked off into the musty interior of the trailer.
Raven grimaced, slightly pissed off at being called a 'girlie'. She tilted her head backwards and gazed at the grey sky overhead. Its dark and dismal depths promised a downpour of rain. Turning around, she quickly surveyed the other trailers lined up like a stack of dull dominoes next to one another. There was barely seven feet of mud-encrusted space separating them, and as her gaze returned to rest upon her new 'home' she silently amended her Uncle's half-assed welcome:"More likely Losersville..."
"Nicky! Nicky!" someone nearby shouted.
Nicky heard the familiar voice repeat her name incessantly, and groaning, she peeked open one lovely green eye in a half-hearted response. Making the unconscious decision to ignore the irritating interruption, she squirmed around in her bed in search of a more comfortable position. Bed was her favourite place in the world, a place where dreams were created, unfolding the possibilities of a magical world which wasn't deemed as a waste of time... Bed was a place where overbearing father figures who dictated the definition of etiquette just didn't exist. With that thought Nicky smiled softly and was swept back into a world of her own creation.....
Suddenly, Nicky's cuddly prized possession - otherwise known as a heavily feathered quilt - was ripped from her possessive grip. She woke up with a jerk and a frustrated gasp, the sour gleam in her verdant eyes directed at whoever had been foolish enough to have awoken her. Glancing at the impatient form of her mother, she quickly exchanged the exasperated expression for a charming grin.
"Hey Mom," she greeted in a sleepy voice, rubbing her eyes with petite hands and having a good long stretch as her morning ritual dictated." What's up?"
"What's up?!" her mother cried indignantly, hands on her slim hips. Joan Mayfair tried to repress the small smile that gleaned its way onto her face as she gazed fondly at her daughter. She shook her dark head, unsure whether she was annoyed or amused with Nicky's innate ability to sleep for an inexhaustible amount of time. "Well YOU are certainly not up. I've been shouting your name for God knows how long."
Nicky stifled another yawn with her small hand." Tut, tut, Mom," she said, a smile finding its way easily to a pair of soft pink lips set in an undeniably cute face. "Blasphemy this early on a Sunday morning! Whatever will Reverend Willson say when he hears about it, hmmmm?"
Joan graced her daughter with a dubious glance, before grabbing Nicky's hand, pulling the lazy and utterly reluctant girl out of bed.
"I don't have to worry about him ever finding out," Joan began to rapidly bat her eyelids together, "Because I know my perfect daughter wouldn't ruin her perfect mother's reputation as a law-abiding, God-fearing woman."
Joan grinned and ruffled the golden hair on her daughter's head, who in turn grinned back and placed an affectionate kiss on her mother's rosy cheek.
"Hurry up and go shower sweetheart," Joan told her, "If we're going to make morning mass this week you'll have to be quick. Timmy's been up with your Dad since seven o' clock."
"You could always go without me....." Nicky quipped hopefully, whilst dutifully grabbing her fluffy pink bath robe.
Joan shook her head once more - she seemed to do that a lot around the irrepressible Nicky - and then marched out of her daughter's spacious bedroom and closed the door after herself.
Nicky wrinkled her nose at the thought of Timmy, Daddy's only Golden Boy, getting up at the crack of dawn to kiss Daddy's ass. Guiltily abandoning her thoughts, she quickly undressed and jumped into the shower for a hasty wash.
Nicky groaned, almost deliriously happy that Reverend Willson's torturous sermon was finally over. If ever there was a man who knew how to make people wallow in their sins, then he was it; the epitome of sadistic criticism. She had spent the whole two hours counting the intricate patterns adorning the garishly floral carpet which covered the building's floor.
Nicky was quietly berating herself for thinking such things about a man of God when not five minutes had elapsed since his 'Holier Than Thou' service, when she felt someone pull on the sleeve of her white sun dress. She turned around to see the petite form of her best friend standing beside of her.
"Hey Nicky!" Stacy beamed, her elfin features enhanced by an affectionate grin. The bright red curls surrounding her small face bounced along with the infectious laughter in her voice.
"Hey Stacy," Nicky replied enthusiastically, hugging the other girl in greeting. Stacy had been her best friend for as long as she could remember. They'd gone to kindergarten together, remained inseparable throughout their elementary years and at Stacy's insistence, had even successfully joined the cheer-leading squad together.
"Reverend Willson sure did go on a bit today, huh?" Stacy said, as she ran a hand through her hair and idly twirled a strand around her little finger.
"Sure did," Nicky sighed deeply at the reminder, rubbing her nose in annoyance "You'd think God, being the gracious female she is, would grant us a modern day miracle and give the Rev a dose of Chicken-pox or something..." Nicky wrinkled her nose as Stacy continued to chuckle joyfully at the prospect. Nicky continued, "...Or at least a tickly throat, or even the sniffles. Anything in fact, just so we could have a decent sleep in. Just on Sundays mind, we wouldn't want the Rev to get seriously ill..."
Nicky's smile slowly faded as she noticed that Stacy's laughing had abruptly ended and she was instead making frantic eyes movements towards the space behind Nicky's head.
Nicky felt a looming presence behind her and whispered "Oh crap."
Stacy quickly made her excuses and reminded Nicky to pick her up that evening.
Slowly, with a gulp, Nicky turned around, only to find her suspicions promptly confirmed. There standing directly in front of her, arms held rigidly by his side, was the Reverend Willson. He was evidently seething in suppressed anger. Was it humanly possible for a person's veins to pop that far out of their forehead without them exploding?....Apparently so......
And joy of joys, to make matters worse, her father was right beside the Reverend and given his stern countenance and the large pulsing vein also popping out of his red forehead, Nicky assumed he was considerably pissed off, too. Absurdly, Nicky grinned at the synchronised pounding of veins on each man's countenance..... Cool ..... Uh-oh, I'm up shit creek without a paddle, she correctly ascertained, plastering a beaming, but noticeably fake smile to her face in a vain effort to appease her father's palpable anger.
"Erm...Um..Hello Reverend Willson..."
"Young lady.... get to the car right now!" Her father issued the order in a deadly serious voice, pointing at the silver Mercedes with a shaking finger.
'Nope, definitely not a happy camper...' Nicky thought glumly, her shoulders drooping at the prospect of being berated for letting her mouth shoot off once again.....
"The car?" She repeated, looking slightly confused, her brow wrinkling. Her mind was issuing the order for her feet to take flight immediately, but somehow the urgent message wasn't penetrating her rationale.
"Get in the car!" Daniel Mayfair stormed, his anger so palpable that even old Mrs.Jetson - who had been rendered partially deaf for several years due to a freak flying Frisbee 'accident' whilst walking in the park - shot them a distasteful look for the intrusive disturbance.
"'Kay." She muttered as she skulked towards the silver Mercedes, dragging her heels along the pebbled path.
'Dad is going to kill me,' she thought glumly. She glanced briefly over her shoulder to study her father, who was apologising profusely for his wayward daughter's audacity and lack of respect for the good Lord. He shot another dirty look her way. 'Slowly' she added to her earlier thoughts.
Joan was regarding her daughter sympathetically, while Timmy was laughing his chubby head off at his sister's apparent distress.
"Don't worry darling," Joan consoled, patting the back of Nicky's hand gently as the girl sat down in the back seat. "I'll handle your father. Anyway, your sister is coming home this week with her fiancee. That'll put your father on his best behaviour."
Nicky smiled at the thought of her sister coming home. She had missed her dreadfully when she went away to college. Sighing, she willed herself to ignore Timmy, who was presently sticking his tongue out at her. Surely murdering your little brother couldn't be considered a real crime? Why, the world should thank me for getting rid of the annoying little twit.....
"And remember," her mother stated clearly as she watched her husband stalk angrily towards the car, his fists clenched in embarrassment. "Your father can't stay angry at you forever."
Nicky silently studied her father's red face. His bulging eyes were glaring at her with deadly intent. She looked back towards her mother before whispering almost inaudibly," Do you wanna bet?"
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