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[sweetsalome]

Salome should be used to these little question sessions with her mother, they have been happening for as long as she was able to talk.  Just little sit downs, called, unexpectedly by Susan to talk about her favorite subject: Salome's father.  Sometimes she is incredibly annoyed by them, really, she gives no shits but if Susan wants so badly to know what is going on in Richard's life why doesn't she just bug his house and tap his phone like a sane woman?

It took Salome awhile to catch on, Susan can be subtle when she wants, and there was a certain bitter sadness when she put two and two together.  She didn't want to really hear about her boring day, she just wanted to hear about Richard.  At this point Salome has long stopped caring about her mother.  The reason why she is a daddy's girl is out of necessity, without him no one would pay any attention to her.

Her reaction to Delilah would probably have not been so violent if there was a more evenness in her life.  Oh well.

Whatever, sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a soda she just doesn't want to have to answer any questions about the recent appearance of bite marks on her skin.  God damn, you'd think the girls on the swim team had never seen a fucking hicky before.

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[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

See, Salome can't imagine that. She can't imagine a sun like him not being the center of a persons universe. She can't imagine him not being worthy of someone else. In her mind, she can't picture anyone caring for Susan the way that he seemed to do. She has seen her with boyfriends, play things, but they never really lasted and Salome never got attached to them or paid them much mind. After awhile she learned to to grow attached to fading things and they would always just disappear after some time.

"I was a really cute baby," she tells him with a smile, her hand moving over his chest, petting and caressing him through his shirt as she smiles over the past. She likes that he views his past relationship not a waste because he got her out of the deal. That makes her feel warm and fuzzy all over. Because she likes to feel like she was something good that came out of that whole bitter affair. She still can't believe she came from that woman though. She can see herself as his child, she sees it in very real ways.

"There's a difference between wanting me and wanting me. It's a difference between wanting to fuck me and wanting to be with me. I mean I could probably get anyone to fuck me. Someone who will stick around and deal with my craziness is something that I want. Like you, you handle me. I want someone like you." It's probably best this way, it is one thing to know that she is precious to him and he has other women in his life, then to think that she is his one and only and then to find that she is not. That would destroy her in such a violent way, probably more so then when she first learned about Delilah. Slowly she is coming to learn the benefits of her position.

"I know, I'm not upset, I mean, I am learning, I am getting used to things and I think I am okay with things now. She's nice, I don't know if we'll ever be BFF's but I like what I am to you. I know that no one else can be like I am." She is his daughter, and he won't have another one, so she is cemented in a way that no other woman is in his life.

A smile and she pulls down the collar of his shirt and leans in to sink her teeth into his skin. Sucking on the salty taste of him, pulling at the skin as she inhales his scent and stretches to press her chest to his arm. Marking him in such a new, delicious way. "Mine. My papa." Her fingers move up the back of his head, disappearing into the dark hair of her father. "I love you because no matter what no one will ever replace what we are to one another."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

The truth is that Richard is a masochist, through and through, and the poison Susan offered him was more appealing than any dream he could have possibly conceptualized.

"You were, you were adorable, even to me. And I detest babies; even moreso when you showed up." Ah, yes, the warm and fuzzy bullseye. The truth is that she certainly is something good that came out of the nonsense, but still, every now and then he wishes Susan were never a part of his life. Of course, if it wasn't for her, and Salome, he'd be in prison. So, there are distinct benefits.

Often, he doesn't believe that Salome is Susan's. But it seems irrational to accuse the mother of being unrelated to her daughter, so he's pushed the moments of doubt aside and focused on the clear evidence of his own relation.

His tongue digs in against his teeth. Richard wants to be with her, but not in the way she wishes, so he lets it go. "You're not crazy, baby." That's a lie. "You're just a teenager." Truth. "You're too young to worry about all this bullshit, kitten, you're seventeen. Wait until you're my age to let it stress you out. I'm glad, though, that you're savoring every moment for what it is. Because it's the truth." His grip tightens. "There's nobody who could ever take your place. I'll never have another child, and even if, by some miracle--or nightmare--I did, then that child would never manage to compete with you. Never, ever." Certainly not anymore. "You're my darling Salome. It's impossible for you to have competition."

Then, she tugs down his collar, and her teeth sink in, and he groans softly while she suckles against his flesh. The fabric of her shirt gathers in his fist and he sighs sharply. "Oh, yes, baby, your papa, your daddy, nobody else's, never, no matter what." Her fingers creep into his scalp and his eyes roll. He hates letting the girl have such control over him, but oh, God, he can't help it. "You're more to me than you could know, my blood, my life, my darling daughter. Who else would I drive ten hours for?"

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"I bet you were not happy when I showed up. I understand that, if I got pregnant now I would not be happy at fucking all. I know that you probably could have ditched me, had nothing to do with me, but you didn't, you stuck around and I am really glad you did." She gives him a gentle kiss on his temple after that, it means a lot to her and he may or may not be able to understand that. Maybe he could, with his own father situation, she wants him to know that she doesn't take it for granted, even if she is crazy at time.

Because two absent parents and she wouldn't be half the person she is today, maybe she would have still had all those lessons and different things to keep her busy but she would be such a lonely and shy little girl, desperate for any affection. Though if Richard would have split Susan would probably have seen no use for the child and perhaps would have given her up, or just gotten rid of her totally.

Not that Sal has any idea that could have been one of the things that happened.

"I know all those things, sometimes I forget though, it's hard to keep things in perspective." Especially when someone shows up to make your father look and act all stupid. Things are starting to make sense now, in these clear moments when she is alone with him and they are talking like this. Things tend to get blurry and she loses direction when her emotions rule her behavior and she feels unglued and unhinged.

Her tongue moves over the mark she left on him, smoothing the bruised flesh, kissing it with a sigh. "I don't know, but she better have an incredible snatch for you to do so. Why didn't we just fly? We could have, you know. I like this, a road trip, everyone always talks about going on road trips but they never do." She is just stupidly happy to spend time with him, so, so happy.

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

If she got pregnant now he'd probably choke her to death, but that's a whole different story. He simply chuckles at the very possibility, brushing it aside and shaking his head. "It was very odd, I'll say that much. After all, I was a nineteen-year-old boy. But I couldn't help but stick around."

And stick it to his own absent father in doing so. After all, he was much younger and much less well-equipped than Julius was at the time of his conception--and what better way to rub it in the old man's face, even if he wasn't looking? Besides, Salome was a girl. It struck him as particularly foolish and cruel to turn away a girl who hadn't done anything to earn it. In his own, nihilistic opinion, the greatest cruelty is existing in the first place, because it only guarantees further agonies; the greatest philosophical duty of a father to his child is to soften the damage already done.

The old man who died when she was two was a good influence in her life after all. And these days, there's not a single moment that he's anything but grateful for her presence in his life. Perversity is tenderness to him, and he is truly riveted by the bone-deep adoration that stings him when he looks upon her. The very idea of anyone being worth so much as a comparison to her--ridiculous. He remembers those chubby hands and fingers grasping at his nose, his keys, his jaw, and he remembers the mixture of disgust and fascination at the knowledge that this was his, his creation, his life, his legacy.

No. That kind of stunning, heavy moment is only capable of happening to him once. Salome has the title, and it's impossible that anybody could hope to compare. He'll let Delilah think that a child of hers could, but that's simply because she would go mad after all she's let slide.

"Such language." He laughs, shaking his head in as much disapproval as he can possibly manage. "I didn't want to fly because it's cheaper to drive, and I rather like driving. Just like I enjoy spending all this time with you." His hand slides down, resting in her lap to squeeze her knee. "It's important that you and I should bond, particularly in the way our relationship is blossoming. And what better way to do that than being stuck in a car with your dear old dad?"

Richard sighs heavily, leaning into the touch of her mouth. "I love you. I want to know you. I feel that I don't know you at all. You're a new person to me."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

If she got pregnant now she would certainly take care of it before he ever found out because that would mean that someone other then him has come inside of her and he has made it clear that no man should do so. Plus, she doesn't want to twist up her life in that kind of way at the moment, or, ever if at all possible. She doesn't see the appeal of children, they are messy, and noisy and don't do what you want them to do, why bother having any? That being said she is awfully glad he had her and did what she doubts she could ever do.

Cheek still on his shoulder she practically hugs his arm, keeping it close as she thinks about their conversation and where it is leading to her in her head. Generally they steer her toward memories of youth, growing up and being sometimes being small and moments that are so big she still remembers them. "I remember you took me to the first day of first grade, and I was so, so scared and I didn't want you to leave, but you promised me that I would have fun and that you would be there when I got out and you were, and I did. You were there, you didn't forget about me." Because there were times when she was forgotten, and on the Richter scale of childhood trauma that is pretty high up there. Comparatively speaking.

Laughing she lets her forehead press and roll over his shoulder as he reprimands her over her use of snatch. Very funny.

"I don't understand why you feel that you don't know me? You probably know me better then anyone else in the world, I mean you've been there from the beginning and I don't think I am a very deep well of psychological surprises."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

Well-thought, Salome. Well-thought, indeed. Richard would be proud to know his daughter's thoughts on children. It would leave him with that secure, comfy feeling, reassured in knowing that he'd raised a sensible girl. Now and then he catches an episode of Maury and has nightmares, after all--a man needs to be comforted by the knowledge that his daughter isn't moronic.

"I remember that." Richard grins crookedly, helpless in the grip she has latched firmly around her arm. "You got all teary, it was adorable. I could have devoured you then and there." Those irresistible tears. Even then, especially then, he was helpless. Big, pure beads pure as water from the fountain of youth, they twisted his heart as soon as she was old enough to have a personality and haven't stopped doing it since. "How could I possibly forget about you? How could anyone?" Clearly, Susan has glossed over the days she's forgotten Salome at school. If she really wants to get her father riled up, she could tell him.

"I was stunned that day, it shocked me, how fast you'd already grown. Sometimes it still shocks me. Especially now." His smile widens and he nuzzles against her hair, straightening the path of the car between the lines. "You've certainly surprised me in the past week, Salome. You're--ah, my God. I can't comprehend it. I know you, I know that I know you. But I could never have anticipated...any of this."

His head tilts, his lungs swimming in the aura that surrounds her. "I feel I don't know you because of all this. I feel I don't know you because I never expected to fuck my daughter, to adore her so much, to suddenly find myself a thousand times more consumed by her than I ever was before." Lips brushing against her cheek, he hums and leans against her. "You're simply amazing to me, darling girl. That's all. You're a deeper well of psychological surprises than you might expect."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

When her father says things like that, that he could have devoured her right then and there she is pretty sure that he doesn't really mean that he could eat her. Pretty sure. Though sometimes he says things that make her wonder and then as soon as she does she sort of lets those thoughts go. Not every new mom who kisses her baby's foot or little hand and kisses all over their little piggies and fingers threatening to "gobble them up" really want to actually eat their child. Some may, let's not pass judgment, but still, it's usually used as a term of endearment.

He does like biting though. So, there's that.

She likes it when he leans into her and kisses her in some way, nuzzles her, those little gentle touches mean the world to her. She strokes the arm that she is currently hugging, leaning into him the same way that he leans into her, and she likes that, a lot. A drive was a good idea, better then flying.

"I will take it as a compliment that I have been able to hide my true want from you, not that I ever had an obvious plan to get with you. It was more like fantasies that I didn't think I would ever be able to act out and then the opportunity presented itself and I just figured that I had nothing to lose." They have always been physically close, there has always been hugging and kisses, stuff like that, so in some ways she was sated and kept at ease with what she already had.

Her fingers go back up to playing and touching his hair as she smiles into his bicep at his generous praise of her. "Can this deep well of psychological surprises get something to eat? I totally want french fries right now." Deep.

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

It means a lot of things. Of course, though, why would he actually eat her in a literal way? No, no, certainly not. Probably. Maybe. Although sometimes he found himself fighting the urge to just sink his teeth right into her. Nibble her up. Even now she makes his jaw ache.

But that's ridiculous. Just a silly instinct to be ignored, no matter how unbearable it is.

He grins, flattered as he shakes his head. "Such fantasies, my God. It's touching, baby, as much as it is inappropriate to think such thoughts about your father. Tsk." Chuckling, he rests his cheek against the top of her head. "I'm glad that you did what you did. No matter the cause, the important part is that it happened, and continues to happen. This...ah." A sigh heaves from him. "I can't articulate it, Salome. My girl."

So strange, to have her as a lover, to be whisking her off to a beach where their relationship needn't be completely hidden. Every second off it is beautiful, something to be savored completely. The power aspect to all of it is undeniable as it is desirable, but beyond that, there's the simple fact that she is something outside his greatest imagination. It makes sense, he supposes. Because, yes, Salome never wanted for physical affection when it came to her father, and one thing bleeds into another.

Laughing, Richard glances at the nearest roadsigns and nods. "I suppose we can do that. I'm starving, myself, you do a good job of stirring a man's appetite. I think there's a steakhouse somewhere around here." He lifts up the armrest and whips out a map, spreading it out on the dashboard as best he can with one hand. Eyes flickering across the paths, to the roadsigns before them, and back to the map, he tucks it away and takes the next exit ramp. "Can you go five minutes without starving to death, babydoll?"

Yes, yes. This place should do just fine when it comes to embarrassing her with cake and singing. Just as planned.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Maybe it's just in my DNA, something I got from you and there was no helping it, it just happened and now you're stuck with it." Though he doesn't seem to unhappy about being stuck with it and neither does she. For as much time as she spends on thinking about how wrong it is, it certainly doesn't feel wrong or shameful. Then again there isn't a lot of behavior that has ever been branded "shameful" in the Vasko household, which is actually nice in a way, because while she might be raised with certain tendencies she was also raised rather openly. Not a whole lot of things bother her or press her to condemn or judge a person.

Something she thinks makes her a pretty good human being.

"Steak . . . ." And she makes that considering face. They probably have french fries and they probably have salad too. Well fuck, she had chicken that night that Delilah came over. What the hell, being a vegetarian is really hard work! She lets go of his arm enough so they can spread out the map and she has no idea what the hell she is even looking at. "I think that could be arranged, I can wait five minutes but any more time then that and I will probably die. Then you would have to surf with my dead body and that's probably not any fun."

Though you never know.

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

"That's entirely possible, I suppose. I'm afraid that's the case with many of your traits, my dear."

Shame...ful? What is this 'shameful'? Christ, life's too short to take shame in anything. Don't like the way something turned out? Deal with it and move on without looking back. There's no reason to get too obsessed with something like guilt or shame or regret. What's in the past isn't worth worrying about, nor what's in the future. And even the present is in a permanent state of decay, but that simply makes it more delightful. A wealth of opportunities.

Richard would make a good Buddhist, if he weren't such a perverted, hateful sadist.

"Hey, it'd make a good replacement board depending on the state of it." He laughs at his own joke, waggling his eyebrows while they drive through one of those odd little trucker towns consisting of motels, McDonald's, family restaurants, hookers, and adult bookstores. "Rigor mortis would pose stiff competition to any balsa wood out there."

Making a rimshot noise from the corner of his mouth, Richard guides the car into the barking lot of one of the family steakhouses in the area and sniggers all the way into park, practically falling out of the car. He drapes himself forward as if his hip were a hinge, his back cracking viciously, the stiff bite of his leg a thousand times worse after time spent in the car.

Fuck, the first day in Virginia is going to be spent with him in a warm bed. Beach, what beach?

Rolling his shoulders, he makes his way for the door, smiling at Salome. "Let's get a table, then you can go ahead and wash up after all that time in the car." And he can inform the waitstaff of the fact that there is a birthday girl present among them. Sabotage.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"It's worse, I could be just like mom." For all they know she is, except Susan isn't her mom, some other lady is and perhaps that's where Sal gets her conscious and empathy from. Maybe it came from TV. Or from her friends or her friend's family, kids pick up a lot when they are growing, every place is a source of information.

That line? That line needs to go on a tee-shirt. Except it could be more general, I would make a good Buddhist, if I weren't such a perverted, hateful sadist. That shirt would probably sell like hot cakes. Not because there are a lot of hateful sadists out there but because it's funny and everyone is a pervert, deep down.

Shame is for people who are unable to enjoy life and feel that other people should be crippled with the same affliction.

"Oh dad that's fucking gross," seriously, what the hell? Salome makes a face and then laughs. "Don't, just don't think about that any more, let me give you a new mental image to chew on, not my stiff corpse." Phrasing. Her dad is so weird.

And it is going to be so nice to get out of the car and stretch her legs. Stepping out after he parks she does stretch, long, long, arms reaching toward the sky and she takes a deep breath in and then reaches down to touch her toes. That feels really, really good. Working those muscles before moving over to his side of the car to see if he needs any help getting out of the car. Poor old man.

She knows that his leg gets stiff when they are in the car for too long. "Yeah, I should really wash up." Inside the restaurant she spots the restroom sign and moves from his side to go use the ladies.

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

"Oh, God, don't even joke about that." He shudders at the very thought of there being more than one Susan--not that her royal highness would allow such a thing to happen. She would have foreseen it and smothered her successor before the babe even had a chance to crawl. Thankfully, though, if she takes after any mother, it's her real one, who, despite being a stripper and probably a whore, was a fairly sweet girl. Not the smartest, but still a decent lady.

If Richard knew the truth of Salome's origin, some things would make a hell of a lot more sense, that's for damn sure. Most significantly, her hair color, which is still the biggest mystery he's ever encountered, right up there with her empathy.

Her reaction to his joke is worth another burst of laughter all on its own. "You have only yourself to blame, babydoll, you leave yourself wide open for these jokes and expect me to not go for them."

Someday she'll learn that the pleasure of making terrible, horrible jokes is right up there with his penchant for murdering hookers.

Adjusting his shoulders and nick, Richard pats Salome in silent thanks for her sweet but wholly unneeded assistance. He's too proud for that. Really, he should probably use a walking stick on worse days, but he'd rather be crippled and silently pained than show any outward sign of weakness. Instead of completely accepting her help, he simply kisses the corner of her mouth, his lips lingering before he pulls away.

Of course, as soon as they're in the restaurant and she darts off, he drops himself into a booth with a relaxed sigh. Even this little hellhole is better than the car, and as the too-peppy waitress comes by to take his drink order, he points to the bathroom and sketches her a brief outline of the situation. That girl he came in with? Yes, it happens that it's her birthday. Do you do cakes and maybe sing? Yes? Wonderful. If you could bring it out once the entree is finished, that would be perfect.

The waitress gives a cheesy wink and scribbles something down while Richard orders a couple of sodas, constantly glancing between the woman before him and the door of the ladies' room. She bustles off, then, party to his conspiracy, and he settles back to let his eyes close for just sixty sweet seconds.

Everything is proceeding as he has foreseen.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I know, I creeped myself with that one too." It's like a cold chill goes through her at the idea of that. If she was like that she probably wouldn't know how horrible it was but since she isn't like that and can see her mother clearly, she knows how unpleasant that would be. Not only to other people in general but to her father and of course she is daddy's girl, hurting him is an impossible thing that would break her in two.

Except for when she wants to strangle the life out of him and beat him to death with something heavy and useful. Even that she is trying to forget. Thankfully he didn't take it personally, her wanting to hurt him like that, it would have been really bad if he had because then she would feel guilty. So, so guilty. In the end, he was right, it doesn't make sense to end his life, not when they have so much fun together. In the heat of the moment that wasn't what she was thinking though, she was thinking about how good it would feel and how the pain would all end if he was gone.

Causation or correlation? It could be that the reason why Carrot Top sucks so bad in his jokes is because he kills a lot of hookers.

He is too proud indeed, but she will try and take care of him whether he likes it or not, and she will dote after him because she loves him and tries to be a decent daughter. Once he is inside and in the capable hands of the hostess she takes some time to clean up in the bathroom, she is pretty sure her bra is inside out. After washing up she feels pretty much like a brand new person, completely unaware to the shenanigans her father is getting up to outside with the waitress.

Slipping into the other side of the booth she sighs and reaches for the menu. "I want to eat ALL the things."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

Well, y'know. Teenagers, mood swings. One minute the daddy's girl is trying to give her father road-head, the next minute she's ready to choke him to death with his own belt. She'll probably level out eventually. He did, after all, even if he still has that build-up of rage and bile that needs to be released every once in a while. And in light of that, how could he possibly take it personally?

Now, if it happens again, he's probably going to be a little annoyed. But that's what fatherhood is about. Patience, and gently guiding one's rage-prone daughter through her homicidal urges. At least, when they're directed toward him.

Still, like a mildly retarded child with nerve damage, Richard can't help but put his hand repeatedly upon any hot stove he stumbles across. Susan is just such a stove, and if Salome took after her, he'd probably put his hand on her just the same. Granted, he's not exactly one to let his daughter push him around, so there would probably be a great deal of far uglier conflict in their lives, and Susan would be much fonder of her than she is now.

It's far better this way. He loves her sweet with the occasional hint of rabid fury. Even if the amount of energy she possesses is going to kill him just by proximity, like a star pulling in any comet that hurtles too close. Richard barely manages to lift his hand from his eyes when she bursts into the booth, peeking between his fingers to chuckle.

"Don't eat too much, baby, I don't need you getting carsick." Or failing to leave room for over-priced cake. Flipping page by page through the menu, he drapes his forearms upon the edge of the table and heaves a sigh. "Jesus, wake me up when we're in Virginia, you can drive the rest of the way. You've knocked me out, sweetheart."

Cradling his forehead in his hand, Richard shuts the menu and sets it aside to sit up and wait for the return of his co-conspirator, who flashes them both an extremely wide, knowing smile while she gives them their drinks and takes their orders. Luckily, it's the sort of grin easily mistaken for country hospitality.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

The next time she gets like that she is going to try and learn from her father and what he told her, find an appropriate outlet. If she has a car she can go to the pool and swim it off, which probably be the least damaging of her options. More and more she feels that she would love to take it out on her mother. That seems like an appropriate target, not a very fucking smart one, but there are times that she would like nothing more then to make her hurt for all the shit she has put Sal and her father through.

It seems like a bad idea though, like kicking a pit bull, and then offering it your hand. It just seems like a really bad idea but one of those bad ideas that you should just totally indulge in. She would much rather do that then hurt her father even if he is doing something that is hurting or upsetting her.

"Really? Oh my god can I drive?" Because that's what every teenager wants for their birthday. She has been driving, got her learners permit and everything, and it's not like there is a lot of dangerous road between here and Virginia beach, mostly flat highway driving, Pennsylvania sucks but it's not that bad as long as you're paying attention and not groping your father.

"I promise I will throw up everything I eat before we get on the road," serious nod as she scans the menu till she finds what she wants. So she orders a coke and a medium rare steak with the steamed veggies and salad to start. It's a small cut of steak so she can probably manage at least most of what she ordered. She is a growing teenager!

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

If Richard ever heard that, it would take all the self-control in the world to keep from encouraging her. Maybe once they've managed to net her more time with her father than with her mother, he will. Or once he's finally lost what's left of his sense of self-preservation when it comes to Susan.

If things get worse--say, if Susan figures out what's going on between the two of them, which he's certain she won't--then Salome's desires to lash out against her mother may prove a useful weapon, indeed.

Oh, God, he was joking, he wasn't really serious about letting her drive, but she's so cute when she's excited about something like this. And he'll be in the passenger's seat and everything, so she just needs to not get them pulled over, or crash the car into one of the many oh-so-sightly farms littering Ohio and West Virginia. When they get through certain areas of Appalachia, he'll probably insist on switching back, but there's no harm in letting her drive for an hour or so.

Probably.

"Oh, yeah, sure, babydoll, you can drive for a bit." Usually the point of having other people drive is to relax. Sadly for Richard he doesn't see that in the cards. "Just be careful."

With a grin, he places his order after hers--which he describes to the waitress as a steak he wants cooked 'as rare as you can without violating a health code or killing me'--and then turns to her with an arched brow. "A medium rare steak? Why, but I thought you were a vegetarian! Some poor cow died and you're just feasting on its corpse. Tsk." Chuckling, he sips his drink and says, "Just save room, we might get desert. The sign in the front claims the pie here is good."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Of course I'll be careful, I am always careful, dad." And she squeals and claps her hands in excitement, bouncing around a little bit in her seat. Yay! Driving! She is at that age where driving is actually a fun thing and she wants to be able to drive and get her proper drivers license. The freedom that goes with that will be amazing in her opinion. She can't wait to be able to get out of the house whenever she wants, and to be able to drive to school sometimes and then take herself to and from practices. It will be so much nicer then having to depend on someone all the time. That seriously sucks.

She rolls her eyes at him when he makes a comment about the dead cow. "It's my birthday and the cow is already dead so I may as well enjoy it and honor it for it's noble sacrifice for my belly and deliciousness." Because a well cooked steak, properly seasoned is a gem to be prized and worshiped.

Seriously, all tender and juicy, the perfect amount of pink in the middle. It's wonderful. Plus she'll have a salad and veggies so it will all balance out in the end.

She sips her coke when the waitress comes back with it, and begins to drizzle dressing over the rather plain house salad that is set down in front of her. Stretching her legs out she puts her feet on either side of him and smiles.

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

"I know, kitten, I just don't want us crashing or being pulled over, I'm obligated to say it." Aw yeah, that's another point in the awesome dad side of the scoreboard. Look at that reaction, he couldn't ask for better. It's too bad he doesn't have his phone out to take video yet, although he will once the main course is finished. Because sometimes a reaction just needs to be immortalized, like when hillbillies sing you happy birthday. Maybe the next time she misbehaves he'll put it on Youtube for her friends to see.

Christ, if he'd known last year that all Salome wanted for her birthday was to drive a little and get laid, it might have saved him a shitload of money on presents. It's like all those times in her early childhood where a cardboard box was as exciting as the thing that came in it.

Grinning, Richard reaches across the table to pat her hand. "I'm so glad you're coming to your senses about the vegetarian nonsense. That's the spirit, babydoll."

Those feet appear on either side of him and he laughs, his hand resting upon one of her ankles. "Goddamn, Salome, what could possibly have you in such a good mood?" He waggles one theatrical, teasing brow while giving her ankle an affectionate squeeze. "I mean, it's not as if you like your birthday or anything. Why, I seem to recall you saying to Delilah that you made an effort of not getting too excited about it. So what could get you behaving so adorably, hm?"

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Oh well let's not go that far, I still think meat is unhealthy and immoral, but I am also of the belief that you should partake in the culture of the people that you're around." Clearly steakhouses are now considered a foreign culture. It's kind of like going to China and asking for a cheeseburger at every meal, that's just rude and you'll be missing out on so many things. You can't go to a steakhouse and order a veggie burger, well you probably could but the chef would probably spit in it. And then you'd have hillbilly HIV and there is just no bouncing back from that. Plus, there is something really nice about a well cooked steak. It's a special occasion.

Her feet rub up against his thighs as she lifts her eyebrows at her father. Generally it is considered bad manners to use a teenagers words against them because it makes the moody and cranky, but then again everything makes a teenager moody and cranky. "I am delirious with hunger, clearly my euphoria is a sign of immanent death. Like when people suffer from hypothermia get really really warm and feel like they should take off all their clothes to cool down. Also: got some sex on the way here so clearly my brain chemistry is all off. Basically I'm insane and not in my right mind, and it's all your fault."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

'Unhealthy and immoral,' hah. But, he supposes most teenagers go through a holier-than-thou phase. All he can do is ride it out and hope she'll get over it by the time she's twenty. Until then, he'll bare his teeth in a way that looks like a smile and say, "Well I'm glad that you're so open-minded that you'll at least have a bit if the situation calls for it."

If she gets cranky he's going to fall back on his old strategy of tormenting her until she's so annoyed she loops back around to a good mood again. T'ain't no way he's getting in a car to drive however many more hours with a pissy teenager, no ma'am. Particularly not when he's counting this trip as part of his birthday celebration, too. Cranky pants are a strict violation of birthday week dress code.

As Richard leans forward with a smirk, his voice drops to a low murmur. "Ah, is that what it is. So it's my fault that you decided to get frisky in the first place, little girl?" His fingertips tickle up the back of her calf and then down again, tracing around her Achilles' heel. "Now, I'd agree that I'm partly responsible for your insanity, but that, my darling, is just genetics, and it hardly differs from day to day." His grin widens. "However, if you truly insist on being so not-excited for your birthday, then I am more than willing to be excited for you. I'll see if there's a dollar store around here that sells party hats so I can wear one for you all the way to the beach."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

Don't worry, she'll snap out of it. Meat is delicious, it's just through a phase and she feels good trying to fit in with the morally superior vegetarian mob. Yeah, clearly this is just for show, she is going to destroy that steak and it will be fucking delicious. Even with her phase she tends to be one of those people who just eats what is in front of her. "Oh, well, yeah, they just don't know any better really." Oh my god, one day she'll look back and hopefully be a little embarrassed that she was this big of a twat.

Teenagers.

"It totally is, everything is always your fault," she is not even remotely being serious with this, and that should be obvious by her bad attempt at not smiling at him. His fingers tickle her and she starts giggling, wiggling her feet against his thighs as she squirms in her seat. "Nooooo I don't want you wearing a party hat, I won't ever go near you when we're out if you put one of those silly things on! You wouldn't even dare, you'd be too afraid that it would mess up your hair." That perfect, slightly mused look that he has going on, dark locks of sex. Seriously, she wishes she was dark haired like him.

She stabs a bite of salad on her fork and offers it over to him with a grin. Somewhere in her formative stage she got the idea that if she could be fed then she should feed other people as well. This habit has not faded apparently.

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

At least she hasn't gotten into veganism. That would probably drive Richard insane. Although right now he's being driven plenty insane as it is--they don't know any better? Though generally he tends to agree that most other people are stupid and don't know any better, in this context, that statement includes his own carnivorous tendencies. However, considering the date, he's willing to let it slide. For now.

"Oh, I know, I'm a brute. The source of all your life's woes." Richard laughs, his grin widening as her giggling fills the air. Those feet wiggling against the sides of his lap are as adorable as her voice. "Come on, kiddo, this is my birthday vacation, too, we need to celebrate. We could glue streamers to the car and stick balloons on the top." Haha, yeah right, like he'd do that to his baby.

She has a point, though, he's too vain to mess up his hair, so, grinning, he reaches up to smooth it back. A strand slides back out of place immediately and he flicks a glance at himself in the nearest reflective surface. "You're right. If it has to be messed up, I'd rather have you do it than a party hat."

With a crooked smile that's wicked as he is, Richard leans forward to let her feed him, sliding the bite of salad from the fork with a sly look in his eyes as he leans back. Of those strange, random little moments that feed the flames of desire seemingly senselessly, this is somehow one of them. Maybe because it's so charming, her little habit. But whatever the reason, he gives her calf an affectionate squeeze and only lifts his hand when the steaks finally come out.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

Oh God, no that would be horrible, that's like, where you don't eat anything, right? Because you are so filled with guilt and belief in your own awesomeness that you refuse to behave like a normal human being? No, Salome loves cheese way too much for that to even be an option. She will just stick to being mildly annoying when it comes to her eating habits, and really it's not so bad unless he starts teasing her about it and then she ends up looking like a douche.

"True, true, I'm glad you said it and I didn't have to," except she did. His comment about the car makes her laugh even more and then she shakes her head. "You'd never, if you did you would have to be totally sedated, I can't even imagine you putting anything on that car that wasn't factory approved of first." Like his hair, his car is apart of him, about of his image, that he would do something to ruin that would probably ruin him a little bit.

"I like holding on to your hair, it's just like when I ride my pony," and that statement is accompanied by a rather wicked look. He better nap in the car when she is driving because she is going to tackle him as soon as they get into that hotel room. Actually if he wants to sleep through that she'll be okay, only a certain part of him needs to be awake for that.

He eats a bite and she giggles helplessly, it's funny for some reason and probably not unlike her initial reaction when she first fed him all those years ago. She finishes off the salad and wipes her mouth before taking a long drink of her pop and pushing the bowl aside for the steak. Smells delicious.

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

Self-righteousness is so powerful that it can sometimes kill the need to eat because the ego can simply give the body all the calories it needs. Unfortunate side effects include forcing your opinions on people who don't give a fuck, and being a piece of shit.

He laughs, guilty as charged. "You can't blame me. Jezebel was my, ah-- she was a gift, I'm twice as obligated to take care of her. I don't want tape chipping off her paint."

Now that's one hell of a statement. His mouth opens silently, then closes and transmutes itself to that dark, roguish grin. In an instant his mind is gone, consumed by only the filthiest thoughts, and he glances askance while taking a sip of his drink.

Unfortunately for him, he's probably not going to be able to nap in the car. He's going to be alert as possible to try and micromanage her driving just in case something goes wrong. Not that he doesn't trust her, but, well--this is his baby driving 'his baby', the latter one being full of many important things including but not limited to clothes, an expensive surfboard, and some drugs. Therefore, he feels the need to keep an eye on her driving.

It'll be fine, though. That's what letting her ride him is for; he can relax and enjoy while she puts on a glorious show for him.

No matter how turned on he is, though, it doesn't stop him from teasing her--hell, it probably only encourages it. He watches her, and the very moment she starts cutting into his steak, he starts making sad little 'moo' noises from the corner of his mouth.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

That is one hell of a weight loss system. It's like the human version of bullshit fusion. A person, not unlike a star can last for millions or billions of years on it, depending on what kind of human they are. Unfortunately the biggest douche bags tend to last the longest.

"That is the craziest thing I have ever heard. That paint was probably created to withstand years and weather, it could probably handle a little tape. I mean this is industrial strength car paint, what kind of tape were you planning on using?" Oh man she could tease him forever about his love of his car. "I should be jealous of the car, clearly that's your first love," forget burning down his house, she'll take out the car. And of course it's named Jezebel. Is he sure that Susan named him and he didn't?

Richard, speechless? Yup, that's a point for her. She will savor that silently, that look that he gives her, she is pretty sure that his eyes just got darker and that just makes her smile more smug. The trip couldn't have come at a better time actually, she just got waxed, legs, neither parts. Not that she was out of control before, but for some reason riding lessons reminded her of recent sacrifice to the regime of beauty.

What - what - she looks at her steak and then up at her father, lips pursing slightly. That look she gets when she is really trying not to laugh at his bad behavior. This shouldn't be encouraged. "You're behavior is not appropriate for the dinner table, do you want to go wait in the car while I consume this noble animal?"