Engaged.

19Mar08

The ring wasn’t even on Molotov’s finger before Brock realised what he had just done. When she threw her arms around his neck, thoughts started racing through his head.

He was engaged.

To Molotov.

Who was totally crazy.

Just that morning, she had smashed the glass top from the coffee table over his head because he had asked if she really needed to leave her wet towels on his pillow.

Then she tackled him and they had sex on the broken glass.

Twice.

And when she was done, she stabbed him in the shoulder with his own knife.

He was engaged.

Brock wasn’t sure, but he felt like he had stopped breathing. Molotov was smiling at him, people were staring up at the rooftop where they were standing, and Brock was considering suicide.

“You know, Samson,” she said, breaking him from thoughts of pitching himself to the street. “When you said you wanted to come back here, my immediate thought was that you wanted to do something embarrassingly feminine and I would have to put up with your idiotic ideas of romance. But this,” she continued, gesturing vaguely around, “could be worse, my Samson.”

Aware that this was the closest thing to a compliment he was going to get, Brock forced himself to smile at her. “Guess I could have saved myself a trip, huh?”

She hooked a finger under his belt buckle. “That depends. Is Paris for me, or for you?”

Brock’s thoughts began racing again, but none of them were terrified anymore. “For us.”

“Then this was necessary.”

“You sure? Sounds like you would have said yes if we stayed at home.”

“Don’t be so sure,” she answered, pulling him toward the door. “Come, my Samson. I will show you exactly how necessary it was back in the suite.”

Grabbing her by the waist, Brock could not help grinning. “You’re not gonna hit me with anything else, are you?”

Molotov’s smile widened as she bumped the door open with her hip. “Only if you ask very nicely, my Samson.”

Filed under: Brock/Molotov, Venture Bros, future fic   |  Leave a Comment