What You Wish For ~ First in the Cupid Series
Cupid sat on his cloud, surveying the world beneath him. Bored out of his mind. Honestly, ever since that terrorist attack and the subsequent rearranging of priorities, those American mortals hardly needed him anymore! He felt like skating around on his cloud, singing that cute little ditty from that cute little, mortal movie about ducks who played hockey: “Fulton scored, Fulton scored, I am really really bored. Fulton’s great, Fulton’s great; last year he couldn’t even ska-a-ate.” Course, Cupid didn’t skate, and there was no Fulton, but it was generally the same concept! Lately, mortals seemed to be finding love on their own quite easily; he hadn’t used one of his arrows in over a MONTH! Now, that was saying something.
Of course, being this bored, he could always work on… No, he wasn’t THAT bored! He shuddered, just thinking about how much work that mortal would take. She was so… He searched his mind for the right word. Oblivious, that was it! She was oblivious and had been since she’d first come onto his radar when she was sixteen. Seven years later and nothing had changed. She honestly cared nothing for what was going on around her; always had her nose buried in a romance novel, or in writing her own. Well, if he labeled fanfiction as such. But honestly, for a girl who immersed herself in romance, she wasn’t exactly open to it in real life. Just finding the right guy, and then having him get her attention, and THEN having her be open to the possibility of some REAL romance…it would take so much effort! Was he really that bored?
Grabbing his chubby little feet and rocking back and forth on his cloud before he flopped onto his back, Cupid finally admitted that, yeah, he really was that bored.
Sighing, he stood up. Well, he certainly had his work cut out for him.
An idea struck him just then. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have the hardest job, getting her nose out of her books long enough for her to notice the guy. Maybe, the GUY could do all the work this time!
He smiled to himself. Oh yes, he was back in business! Now, to find the right guy and finally get her off his Ain’t Never Gonna Happen list…
**********
“Why can’t I just go up and ask her out like a normal girl?” Lance asked, giving Joey a disbelieving look.
“Because, she’d turn you down. Without even thinking about it,” Joey answered.
“What? How can that be? I mean, I’m”” Lance threw a hand over his mouth. “Wow, I was about to say something that would make me sound like a jackass.”
Joey snorted. “Like you have to do anything besides be yourself for that.”
Lance gave him an evil look. “Shut up, Joey. Okay, explain to me again WHY I have to do all this…stuff just to get her to go out with me?”
“Because! She’s kind of…oblivious to most everything and everybody. You have to do something to REALLY get her attention.”
“And that something would be to make her every secret fantasy come true. Gee, thanks Joey. Wait, if what you say is true, how’d YOU get her attention long enough to even become friends with her?”
There was a slight blush on Joey’s cheeks when he answered. “Well, I kind of threw up on her shoes.”
“You what?” Lance asked, as the soda he’d just taken a sip of came spitting out of his mouth and went flying everywhere.
“She’s a nurse over at County. Remember when I fell through the stage? Well, she was one of the nurses at the hospital, and after all the pain medication they put me on…I got a little sick.”
Lance had to wait to stop laughing before he could speak again. “Why can’t you be the one to sweep her off her feet?” he asked. He knew he was whining, but dammit, he didn’t WANT to go out and try to make a girl fall in love with him.
“Well,” Joey began, “Besides the obvious KELLY reason, because she’s my buddy. That would just be weird. And YOU’RE her favorite *NSYNCer. You’re the one she’s writes the majority of her stories about.”
“How can I be her favorite? She doesn’t even know me.”
“Well, I mean, I kind of told her a lot about you. See, it WAS JC before we met. Then, the more I hung out with her and talked to her, the more she seemed to like you. I know, go figure, who would switch from liking JC to liking you?” Joey ducked the salt shaker that had just become a flying missile.
“Joey, I thought we agreed never to set each other up! I mean, I know you’re happy in all your romantic bliss, but we had a deal.”
“I know, I know,” Joey admitted, holding up his hands. “But you two are pretty much perfect for each other. She won’t admit it, but she’s a complete dreamer; that’s why she would never go out with you. She’s afraid normal guys won’t live up to her romantic expectations. And you, you have this hidden romantic nature that one would never suspect about you, but I know it’s there. I know we had a deal, but you haven’t been on a date since that whole, three strikes and you quit thing. It’s been six months now since you and Tonya…well, you know.”
“Yeah, gee, thanks for the reminder.”
“And dude, I’m sorry, but you mope like a 13 year old brat! So, please, just do me this one, itty-bitty favor…”
“Itty-bitty? Please! You’re essentially asking me to stalk this poor girl!”
“I know, I know. But I just can’t see any other way that the two of you would ever have a chance. And sue me if I think that my two best friends would be perfect for each other.”
Lance glared at him. “Fine, Joey. But you owe me, BIG time!”
**********
“Joey, I am dead serious, someone is stalking me!” Rusty yelled into the phone, trying with all her might to be heard over Joey’s laughter. Which proved impossible since the idiot kept laughing. Damn him anyway.
“I’m sor”” Another bout of laughter cut his apology short. Rusty glared a death wish at the phone, wishing Joey was around to receive her death glare in person.
“Okay,” Joey managed to say, catching his breath. “Okay. I’m sorry. You were saying?”
Rusty heard him trying not to laugh and got disgusted with her best friend. “Joey, you think I’d be making something like this up? Please! I’m not some desperate chica, hoping you’ll rush over here and save me, the damsel in distress.”
“I know, Rusty. Trust me, I know that you’re hardly the damsel in distress type. But, c’mon, a stalker? Like you would even notice someone stalking you. That would mean removing your nose from one of your books, or ungluing your eyes from the computer screen. What makes you think you have a stalker?”
Swearing by all that was holy that if he laughed, he was as good as dead, she replied, “Because they’re reenacting my stories.”
She could almost see his “riiiiiiiiiiiiiight” nod, the one he had given her a couple of weeks ago when she had relayed the first weird coincidence to him. “Hey, Rusty, I’m really sorry, but Kelly just came in with Brianna. Gotta jet. I’ll call you in an hour or two, check up on you and make sure you’re not dead or anything.”
Rusty rolled her eyes. “Gee, thanks. That’ll help me sleep tonight.”
“Anytime, Rusty.”
Making a disgusted sound, she hung up the phone without replying. The jerk. Was it really so unbelievable that SHE would have a stalker? Rusty paused, looking down at her short self in the hospital scrubs she had yet to change out of. Pulled at her red hair that was trying to frizz its way out of the french braid. Knew without the help of a mirror that she still looked like a teenager, rather than a twenty-three year old. Sighing, she had to admit, if only to herself, that yeah, it was pretty unbelievable.
But dammit, she KNEW that she wasn’t imaging these things!
The doorbell rang just then, interrupting her thoughts. Now who in the heck would be calling on her at”she checked her watch”nine o’clock in the evening? And had she really just thought of someone CALLING on her? She put a hand to her head…way too many 19th century romance novels!
The doorbell rang again, reminding her of her late night visitor. She peered out her bedroom window, only able to make out an unfamiliar outline of a man on her doorstep. Oh dear God, was it him?
While she contemplated calling Joey right back, she watched the man step off her doorstep and start walking around the side of the house. Oh God.
**********
Hmm. He had just talked to Joey literally two seconds ago; he’d assured Lance that Rusty was at home. And that she thought Lance was a stalker.
Not that he could blame her, he decided as he walked around the corner of the house. None of the windows on this side were low enough for him to see through. He looked around the yard, trying to find something to step on to see into the house.
Yeah. He really couldn’t blame her; what he was doing right now? This HAD to qualify as stalking. He was now a bonafide stalker. Giving up the fight of pretending that he wasn’t, he started singing the Insideout Acappella song that Joey had ended their conversation with.
“I see you, you don’t see me; I’m hidden with my telephoto lens up in the tree. You’re walking and you look around suspiciously. So happy togetherrrrrrrrrrrr. I have your cat; don’t be alarmed. As long as you come talk to me, he won’t be harmed. We’ll go and get a bite to eat; I’ll come unarmed…”
As he rounded the corner of her house, on his way to find a backdoor, a foot came out of nowhere, kicking him in the chest. He flew back with an oomph, landing flat on his back, slightly dazed and confused.
The sky was definitely tilting back and forth, and the fact that his breath had just been kicked out of him wasn’t helping anything. Slowly, the sky became more and more still. And his assailant finally spoke.
“Lance? What the hell?!”
The next thing he knew, she was sitting on him, straddling his chest, and he found it difficult to breathe again. “Air!” he managed to squeak out. Rusty glared at him, but moved back enough that she was sitting on his stomach.
“Explain. Now,” she demanded.
Lance gulped in air, happy that he was able to breathe once again. Although with her sitting on his stomach, his lungs still weren’t at optimum level, but she looked pissed off enough as it was. He decided to keep that complaint quiet. Along with the one about his BROKEN RIBS!
“Joey never said that you take Tae Kwon Do,” he complained, bringing a hand up to rub his aching chest. Rusty caught his hand instantly, pinning it to the ground.
The devil sitting on his shoulder made him lift his other hand. When she promptly caught that one and held it down too, he had to resist grinning. Such compromising position. He decided that she could have her wicked way with him any day that she wanted.
Although, looking at her face just now, he decided to keep that thought quiet. The self-preservation gene in him decided it was time to kick in.
“Not Tae Kwon Do,” she growled. “Tae Bo every morning. Now, answer me. What the hell are you doing stalking around the outside of my house?”
“Joey said you were at home. I rang the doorbell, didn’t get an answer, and got worried. I just wanted to check and make sure you were all right.”
Rusty looked at him. Wow, she looked really angry… “Dammit, Lance, I thought you were my stalker!”
“Stalker? Me?” he squeaked again.
As she started to release his hands and remove herself from his stomach, another thought occurred to her. Lance watched realization dawn on her face; kind of like those moments when Tweety Bird figured out that Sylvester was right behind him… She dropped back onto his stomach. “Then what the hell are you walking around singing that song for?!”
“What, the Stalker Song?” Lance asked, trying to pull off the innocent routine while sucking in the breath that had wheezed out of him with her returned weight.
“Would that be the one in which you claim to have my CAT and it sings to the tune of So Happy Together?” Rusty asked sarcastically.
Lance looked around, wondering how he was going to get out of this one… “Uh, yeah. That’s the Stalker Song.”
“Then, yes, what the hell were you singing that song for?” Her hands clenched, one of them restraining his forearm, the other pinning his fist. Lance yelped.
Rusty looked at him with suspicion then unfolded his fingers. A white rose with blue tipped petals rolled out of his hands, the thorns having cut into his palm.
Her eyes flashed back to his face. Uh oh. Busted.
“You ARE my stalker!” she shrieked, keeping him pinned to the ground. “What the hell is going on, Lance? And you have all of three seconds to start explaining!”
“It was all Joey’s idea! He was hit with this sudden inspiration to hook us up,” Lance blurted out instantly. Yeah, good, pass the blame. That was real mature, you idiot, he cursed himself. “Okay, well, not all of it. It was his idea to reenact things from your fanfiction stories. The rest of it, choosing the parts to turn into real life, leaving the stuff for you, following you long enough to make sure the things actually got to you…that was all me.”
“Why? Why on earth would you two think up something like that?” Rusty asked. She still hadn’t moved from his chest, but then again, he wasn’t exactly complaining about that part…actually, he WAS complaining about the lack of breath...
“Well,” Lance began, wondering where he was supposed to go from here. “Joey got this idea that you and I would be perfect for each other.”
“You and me?” Rusty looked Lance up and down, what she could see of him, anyway.
He made a face. “You don’t have to make it sound like such a BAD idea,” he complained. “But yes, you and me. He also said you don’t notice anything outside your romance novels and your fanfiction stories. So…we kind of thought that the way to get your attention would be to use them.”
“So you stole the romantic encounters from the stories?”
Lance hedged, “Well, not really the encounters, because then you’d figure out it was me, and then ignore me. So never the things in which you actually met the hero. And they weren’t from ALL your stories. I only did the things you wrote that I would.”
“Not the things that YOU would do. The things that Story Lance would do.”
Okay, yeah, slight confusion on his part. “But Story Lance IS me.”
Sighing, Rusty rolled her eyes. “No, Story Lance is the amazing, but nonexistent guy I invented in my head. Story Lance is the one who left a dozen white, blue-tipped roses for Courtney after she had a long day at work. Story Lance is the one who left a trail of Hershey Kisses from Vanessa’s front door to the card on top of her car. Story Lance is the one who left Becky ten vases of roses with a Ten Things I Love About You note attached to each vase. You just copied Story Lance’s”MY”ideas.”
“Yeah, so I copied them. But can you say that what I did was not the least bit romantic?”
“Maybe, if I was one of the girls in my stories, I would say that it was SLIGHTLY romantic. But, they’re not me. If you read the stories enough to figure out what to do, how did you miss that part?”
“Well, obviously, they’re not you. But you have to find the things that I did somewhat romantic, otherwise, the stories that you were writing would hold no romantic appeal for you as a writer.”
Lance could see that she didn’t want to admit that he was right. Hmm…maybe this night wouldn’t be a total loss. Because he had to admit, after following Rusty for three weeks and learning all about her romantic dreams, that maybe Joey was right. Maybe him and Rusty really would be perfect together.
She was definitely contemplating letting him up, he realized as she started to ease her weight off his stomach, and the blood flow slowly and painfully returned to his hands. Wanting to add a slight incentive, he said, “If you let me up, I’ll go retrieve my picnic basket from the front step and we can veg on your living room floor. The milk that goes with the cookies probably shouldn’t be left out for too much longer-”
His breath whooshed back out and his hands were held down painfully an instant later. He looked up, confused as all hell to see Rusty looking like she was ready to breathe fire.
“How did you get on my computer!? Did you break into my house?”
Wow, even more confusion now than before. “I’m sorry, what? All the blood that’s SUPPOSED to be going to my hands just rushed past my ears and I don’t think I heard you correctly. You think I broke into your house?”
“I know you did! How else would you explain knowing about the next chapter? It hasn’t been posted yet. Hell, I haven’t even finished writing it yet! Did you break in while I was at the hospital? Did Joey tell you where the extra key was?”
Great, she was psycho. Figures, just when he’d thought he had found the perfect girl, she turned out to be a freaking PSYCHO! “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he said, trying to wiggle his fingers enough to restore circulation. Nope, nothing doing, his hands were still numb.
“I’m talking about the picnic basket! And the next chapter of my story, from which you stole the picnic basket idea. Story Lance doesn’t do that until Chapter Nine, which I haven’t finished yet. The only place you could have read it was on my computer.”
“I didn’t steal that!” he protested indignantly. “That was one that I actually came up with on my own. I know you like milk and chocolate chip cookies. I resent the implication that it was a STOLEN idea! Those are some homemade cookies, lemme tell you, and I slaved all afternoon to make them. I wouldn’t do all that just for a stolen idea! This was mine, where I was actually going to ask if I could come in, veg out in your living room with you while we ate it and watched a movie and I confessed that I was the one who did all the earlier stuff.”
Maybe his indignation got through to her. Or maybe she read the truth in his eyes”Lance rather liked that phrase and contemplated having her use it in one of her stories. Or maybe it was just the offer of homemade chocolate chip cookies. Whatever. She finally eased off him and he regained the use of his hands. He decided that as much as he like the idea of her having her wicked way with him, keeping circulation in his hands would have to be a pre-agreed upon stipulation…
“So, wait,” she asked after they were both standing and while Lance was busy brushing all the dead grass off his back and pants. “If you were planning on doing the exact same thing as Story Lance, WITHOUT stealing the idea from me first…”
“Face it, Rusty. I AM Story Lance. Your every romantic dream. Uh-huh, baby, right here, fulfilled in me,” he boasted, pointing to himself and nodding.
Rusty started laughing. “Whatever, Casanova.” She grabbed his hand and started dragging him back to the front door. “Now, about the milk and cookies…”
**********
Cupid smiled. Whoo-hoo! That was one hopeless moved off his list. He HAD been worried there for a moment, when he’d thought that Rusty would kill Lance, kick his butt, or not trust him at all. But Lance had pulled through. Made her listen to the truth.
He conjured his Ain’t Never Gonna Happen list out of the cloud he was sitting on. Crossing her name off with a little flourish, he looked at one of the other names on his list. Well, he thought slowly. Looking down at the world again, he knew that most of them no longer had a need for his intervention. They managed to find true love all on their own. He supposed that he DID have time to try working on another hopeless… Hmmm, he thought to himself, Justin Timberlake, where am I ever going to find someone willing to put up with you?
