See part 1 for disclaimers.
Archive only with permission of author.
MISchief Part 15
(story 3 in the MIScommunication Series aka It Sucks To Be You Series)
By cnrocks/CaseyROCKS
Judge Elizabeth Donnelly's Chambers
Monday 9am
Elizabeth Donnelly coolly sat behind her desk. She could hear the two of them bickering all the way down the hallway. Her assistant tried to stop them from entering the office but was overwhelmed.
"Judge? These two want to see you..."
"You bet I do.
"So do I."
"... but they don't have appointments. I tried to stop them."
Liz raised her hands. "It's okay, Lana. I'll take care of this." She watched her assistant leave and resumed her position. The Judge clasped her hands and rested them on the desk. When she looked back up all expression had been removed from her face.
"Can I help you ladies?" She asked calmly. They both started talking at the same time. The Judge stopped them. "One at a time, please. Ms. Carmichael?"
Abbie smiled smugly at Alex who just responded with a huff and by crossing her hands over her chest. She propped her leg up on the desk and pulled her jeans up. "Look what I woke up with this morning."
Liz lowered her glasses down her nose and leaned forward to look at Abbie's leg. She pushed them back up and sat back. "Jose Cuervo a friend of yours?"
Alex walked closed to take a look and laughed. "Nice. How appropriate for you... a snake. A bottle of tequila. Oh and look, a cute little lime wedge too."
Liz motioned to Abbie. "Could you remove your foot from my desk please?"
Abbie removed her foot. She pulled a chair closer to the desk and flopped into it, disgusted. "That's all you have to say? You got us drunk..."
"Yeah," Alex chimed in.
"And tattooed."
"Yeah."
Abbie turned and looked at Alex. "You have one too?"
"I didn't say that. I was just agreeing about yours." Alex bit her lip. "Now if you are done I would like to talk to the Judge alone."
Abbie tilted her head and started at Alex. She stood up. "You're lying. You do have one." Abbie rubbed her hands together in glee. "Where is it? What is it? Can I see it?" She started walking around Alex.
"Go to hell, I'm not telling and not in this lifetime." Alex continued to turn with Abbie.
Abbie began to taunt Alex who responded more and more like a child. There was finger pointing and pokes. The noise was escalating and finally Liz couldn't take it anymore.
The Judge slapped her hands down on her desk and stood up. "Both of you sit down. NOW!"
Abbie sat back in her chair. Alex just stood.
"Sit, Ms Cabot."
"No."
Abbie smiled up at Alex. "Show me yours; I showed you mine."
"No."
"Sit down, Alex." The Judge said firmly.
"I can't." Alex mumbled.
"What?" The Judge asked, not hearing Alex clearly.
"She said she can't." Abbie laughed. "Guess we know where yours is now, don't we?"
"Kiss my ass, Carmichael," Alex spit out through clenched teeth.
"Now you're talking." Abbie closed her eyes and puckered her lips.
Alex slapped her on the back of the head.
"Hey!"
"You are never going to see it."
"C'mon Allie... you've seen one butt you've seen them all. Although yours is outstanding." Abbie leered at the subject at hand.
"Stop looking at my ass and stop calling me Allie."
Abbie stood right back up and they commenced arguing again.
The Judge sighed and rubbed her temples. She stood up again. "SHUT UP! Enough!" She pointed at Alex. "You have a tattoo on your butt. No big deal." She then pointed at Abbie. "You have one on your ankle. Again, no big deal." She continued shouting. "You want to know what a big deal is? Do you? Can someone explain these to me?"
Liz ripped open her robe.
Alex and Abbie looked from Liz to each other.
"Good Lord!" Abbie said aloud. Alex squeaked and then mouthed essentially the same sentiment. Then they both crossed their arms over their chest and cringed in sympathy. "Owwwwwwww."
DOINK DOINK
Well, that's all folks. Gather up all your belongings and be careful exiting the ride.
What?
Loose ends?
Okay, yeah, there is another story (and it's pulling into the train station now). It's called MISbehavin' and it's more of an A/A fic. Oh, C/O are a huge part of it and will be in 95 of the scenes plus a whole slew of other known characters will make appearances. AND yes, I will wrap up everything and finally answer the one question on everyone's mind…
I'll tell you what happened to Omelet. .g.
Author's Note:
Let, me, say, something, about, commas. Yes, I, enjoy, those, lovely, little, pauses. Doesn't, everyone? What, says, waitacottonpickin', minute, better, than, a, choice, comma. So, smooth, so, curvy. You, can, use, them, to, separate, lists, of, things, too. Handy, little, suckers. They, separate, clauses, better, than, those, rumors, about, Santa, and, the, flight, attendant. But, she, says, I, indulge, too, frequently. I, told, her, I, could, stop, at, anytime. I, have, them, under, control. She, said, she, had, to, remove, 462, extra, commas, from, these, stories. She piled, them, up, on, my, desk.
462? .sigh. I, guess, she, is, right.
I, am, CaseyRocks, and, I, am, a, commaholic.
Beta's Note: Dear Casey Rockhead...let me explain the correct usage for a comma. NO, it is not used for exercising the ring finger on your right hand. Although, after removing 462 unnecessary commas from these stories, your finger should be the size of a... Well, what it should be the size of would make Casey and Olivia very happy. However, since it is attached to your hand, I am thinking they will never get to use it for the purpose that they have in mind. And if they do, I do not want to know about it. .g.
Author's Note #2:
Big thank you to my beta and drinking .hic. buddy Davida. .g.
She wouldn't let me list her as a co-author--she was afraid they would take away her A/O membership card and magic decoder ring for playing with the darkside. Anywho, the point is and yes I do have one here somewhere, I couldn't have possibly made the drinking scenes as funny without her help. Of course, I really do not want to know how she manages to hear intoxicated as well as she does. Especially when the hardest thing she drinks is chocolate moo. That scares me...really...a lot.