Page 6 of Dirty Daria
1. Rocked it as a diversion.
2.
I take a sip of my cocoa, tapping my smell-tastic glitter pen against my lips, waiting for some blend of memory and inspiration to strike, reminding me of my intrinsic value to the cause. I doodle a bit in the margins of the page: hearts, smiley faces, flower petals. I’m not much of an artist, but I have a real knack for drawing a flower petal. The long and narrow type like on a daisy. Nothing crazy like marigolds or orchids. Just the pretty phallic shaped designs.
Mmmm, phallic. Reed is packing where it counts, for sure. It wasn’t just once tonight that I felt his desire for me. His hard, throbbing, pulsating love rod coming to life. I giggle as I write that in the margins next to one of my sappier looking hearts.
Maybe I have an inner romance writer waiting to emerge. I’m pretty sure that hard, throbbing, pulsating love rod is a damn decent universally appealing description of a dick. Betcha I can doodle a picture of what I think Reed’s manhood looks like to scale. I flip to a blank page in my notebook and sigh as I take another sip of my cocoa, only to realize the mug is empty.
Shit, when did that happen?
I guess it has been twenty minutes since I began my list. Bringing the notebook with me, I head into my kitchen to make another cup, flipping the pages back to review my list as I wait for the water to heat.
Quinn’s Value to the Team
1. Rocked it as a diversion.
2.
Huh. I really thought I’d come up with more than that. Oh, I know,I treated the cuts and scrapes on Reed’s hands after he hit David. Surely that counts for something.
Quinn’s Value to the Team
1. Rocked it as a diversion.
2. Didn’t pass out at sight of blood. Good at basic first aid.
3.
And I’m sure there’s something else of value I did or provided that I just haven’t thought of yet. Because I know there has to be more than two reasons why Daria needs me in on this, even if I haven’t been able to come up with it over the last twenty minutes.
Maybe I’m better served by drafting this list while I’m with Daria since she knows better what is needed on a job and all the roles to be filled. Except, I think sometimes the girls work solo. But maybe that’s out of necessity because they don’t have the manpower for any more than one per job. Definitely something to ask Daria about if I’m going to be one of the Darlings.
* * *
The paper list now forgotten; I begin to make a mental list of all the clothes I currently have that would work on a mission. Clothes like what Daria wore this evening, which were functional but still sexy as fuck. And, regardless of what Daria says, I’m getting a wig like the one she wore tonight. If for some reason I can’t wear it on an op then I’ll just have it around for fun.
I grab my laptop to look at wigs online, but somehow end up streamingWhite Christmas, and sing along with Bing Crosby as he glides (yes, glides) through the snow. I fall asleep on the couch before the movie is over. Laptop perched against my knees, empty mug resting on the coffee table, and soft snores flowing from my lips. Like a vigilante baller.
3
Daria
I get a second message from Roxie as I’m dropping Quinn off in front of her house. I know Quinn wants me to come in and spend the evening with her because that’s what we do at Christmas time, but Roxie has a lead on a guy she’s been following for a while and she wants my help to take him out. If I tell Quinn, she’ll want to come with us and this is not a job I want her on.
The guy, a serial rapist, has been recently released because the evidence against him was deemed “insufficient.” Evidence fromall fivecases against him. Supposedly the chain of custody was broken and the defense made a claim about tampering. And, since my Dirty Darlings and I are open to ridding the world of anyone who gets away with committing crimes against women, he won’t be free for long. The Dirty Darlings’ primary focus is still ending human trafficking and the sex slave trade as I’m intent on finding the men who took Katya. But I have no problem with taking care of the guilty who slip through the justice system without penalty.
I turn onto the street where Roxie lives, an older area made up of a blend of commercial and residential, where the streets are narrow and the lots are small, but the older craftsman style houses have a ton of character. She bought a fixer upper that she’s slowly renovating herself. Roxie likes to stay busy. And by busy, I mean physically active. She jumps out of the shadows as I pull up to her house and is in the car before I’ve come to a complete stop.
“Nice ride,” she says buckling her seatbelt.
“It’s Mack’s. I was helping him with Tremblay earlier.”
“I can’t wait until we get rid of that asshole.”
“You and me both,” I agree. “How was the rest of the night at the bar?”
“Slow. We closed early like you suggested. Tips were shit, people were dicks; so much for the holiday spirit,” Roxie sighs. “I’ll be happy to work some aggression out on this guy.”
