[[FIC]] Uncle Pete

[carriesagun]

Just a little ficlet I dreamt up today, that I thought would be funny. It's Green Street Hooligans, but it should make anyone smile ^_^

 

Ebony walked into her flat, slammed the door and threw her handbag across the room. “Shit, shit, fuck and fucking shit!” she yelled to herself, slumping down in front of the door. There's blood on her hands, and that made her angrier, so she sprang to her feet and went into the bathroom, grabbing a nail brush and scrubbing at her hands.

 

She scrubbed angrily, growling at herself as the skin around her fingernails broke and began bleeding, tinging the water pink as it flowed from the tap. She threw the nail brush into the sink and washed her fingers until the bleeding stopped before heading into the kitchen for a beer.

 

She jumped onto the sofa, snuggling up to Benji and quietly fuming to herself, and was halfway through her beer when the door bell rang. “Seriously, why are people coming around here?” she muttered, opening the door and smiling at her visitor. “Pete? Fuck. Off.”

 

“Oh, c'mon, I came all the way over 'ere!” he replied, pushing his way in.

 

“Yeah, well, I ain't in the mood for entertaining,” she snapped, taking a gulp of beer as she closed the door. “You're about to be an uncle.”

 

“What? Shannon gone into labour?” he asked, and she nearly growled.

 

“Yeah, she was brought into A&E bleeding heavily, so yours truly had to help deliver her baby,” Ebony told him, shaking her head to rid herself of the memory.

 

“Wow, that's fuckin' awful,” Pete said, then smiled wickedly. “What's her fanny look like?” Ebony burst out laughing and punched him on the arm.

 

“Shit, Pete,” she giggled, going to the fridge to get him a beer. She was still laughing when they sat down on the sofa, her mood sobering as she thought about Steve. “Pete, I really wanted it to be me havin' kids with him,” she confided, and Pete smiled supportively at her.

 

“I know mate,” he said softly, risking a smile.

 

“But, I suppose there's a silver lining to this situation.”

 

“Go on?” he added, raising an eyebrow at her.

 

“Well, she's got a fanny that'll hold a colony of bats, and split her perineum, requiring 30 stitches.” Pete and Ebony exchanged looks then clinked their glasses with a laugh.