TITLE: Salmon Wings
AUTHOR: jeri
E-MAIL: jeri@zilmamebrika.org 
WEBSITE: http://www.zilmamebrika.org
RATING: PG-13
CATEGORY: SH
KEYWORDS: MSDRF, MSR, D/R UST
SPOILERS: Existence, then AU, I guess
ARCHIVE: Just IWTB, thanks.

SUMMARY: Estrogen rules.

**DISCLAIMER: Chris. 1013. Fox.

NOTES: Happy Birthday IWTB! And thanks to Sallie and 
Lara for the betas! And to Robin, Ro, Sallie, Lara and
Gail for helping me pick a title ;)

^*^*^

"I should call home..."

"Dana! Stop worrying. The guys are fine, I'm sure. 
You need a break from them, remember?"

The waiter approaches, a big pile of steaming hot 
wings on his tray. "Here you are ladies. Can I refill 
your drinks?"

Monica looks down at her still-full glass. "Sure. 
Squeeze a couple more drops of dirty martini in 
there. I double dog dare ya."

The waiter is not amused. He gives Monica a Look and 
turns his attention to Dana. "Another ginger ale, 
Miss?"

Dana appreciates the youthful title. "No thank you, 
I'm fine for now."

As he walks away, Monica bites into a wing. She chews 
thoughtfully, then comments, "It tastes like salmon."

Curious, Dana too takes a bite. "You're right. How 
weird."

Regardless, they continue to eat the salmon-flavored 
wings.

After many moments of silence, Monica blurts out, 
"John bought me pearl earrings. I saw them in the 
bottom drawer of the desk the other day. There's a 
note and everything." She pauses. "I didn't read the 
note."

Dana's eyebrow is raised. "The bottom drawer? We 
didn't leave anything behind in there, did we?" Her 
mind is thinking about a particular leather 
thong...but she swears she saw it mixed in with the 
rest of her underwear last weekend.

"Just a couple magazines that I'm sure weren't either 
of yours," says Monica. "But the earrings...my 
birthday was months ago, and he got me some crystals 
for that."

"So your problem is what exactly?" Dana is too 
concerned with keeping her fingers clean to worry 
about her friend's semi-dilemma at the moment.

"What if he wants to get involved? I mean, we *work* 
together!"

At this Dana puts down her napkin and looks her 
friend in the eye. "Monica, I don't think I'm exactly 
the right person to come to if you're worried about 
getting involved with your partner."

A beat of silence.

"Point taken."

They continue to eat their salmon-flavored wings.

A man in a dark outfit approaches them. "Howdy doo 
ladies. I'm Kerry Okie. Wanna take a ride on my bar?" 
His hips thrust towards them in a shameful display of 
horniness.

"Move it, Don Juan. We don't like *men*," Monica 
confides, a murderous gleam in her eye.

Mr. Okie moves along to torture other unsuspecting 
women.

Dana frowns. "Why is it, now that I'm firmly attached 
to a man, that I get hit on all the time?"

Monica pats her friend's hand. "It's the lure of the 
unattainable. You'll get used to it."

"I'd rather not. Guess no more 'girls only' nights 
for me. Or I just avoid places with men."

Rolling her eyes, Monica says, "Oh stop. Trust me, a 
month from now you'll be begging me to get you away 
from your teething child and sex-deprived almost-
husband."

Dana's frown turns upside down and morphs into a 
carnal grin. "Who said he's deprived? If anything, 
he's *over*-sexed!"

Their laughs fill the restaurant. The waiter grumbles 
about bitchy, smart-ass customers. Mr. Okie slips a 
blonde his number.

And the laughs keep on coming.


THE END

^*^*^

Did I write that? How...odd...

For IWTB's Birthday Challenge:
1. A Karaoke Bar
2. A Double Dog Dare
3. A Dirty Martini
4. A Leather Thong
5. Hot Wings
6. Salmon 
7. A pearl.

4 out of 5 doctors say expressing your enjoyment 
of a fanfic to its author increases your life 
expectancy 23-23.8 years. The other doctor was 
killed by Cancerman before we could ask him.
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