Let’s Get Married, Chapter 4

Previously: Chapter 3 [U]

Lunch with unexpected visitors. [BTW, Ida Lupino isn’t remotely celebrated enough. She should be.]
Rated: A.

* * * * *

Chapter 4, Just A Kiss

It took a few days before they were back on friendly terms, during which time Ashley was at a loss for how to fix things. Eventually, she did the one thing that should have occurred to her in the first place: she apologised. That worked.

She was still towelling her hair dry as she pulled the front door open in response to the persistent knocking.

“You’re early. Forget your keys yet again?”

When there was no answer, she removed the towel and looked towards the door. It wasn’t Spencer. “Agent Eaves, Agent Sorensen. Please, come on in.” She hoped her smile looked more genuine than it felt.

“Your doorman wasn’t on duty, so one of your neighbours let us into the elevator,” Eaves said, remaining in the hallway. “I apologise for catching you unawares. We can wait out here while you get dressed.”

Ashley looked down at her bathrobe. “Oh. No, no. It’s quite all right. Have a seat and I’ll be right with you.” She moved through the apartment towards her bedroom. Once there, she called out, “Your timing’s improved. Spencer should be home for lunch any time now.”

Quickly pulling on a pair of jeans and a clean shirt, she examined herself in the mirror to check she was presentable. She wondered if she looked more married than the last time. She felt more married.

Both men were seated on the couch when she returned, but they weren’t talking. Eaves was perched on the edge, reading his notebook, while Sorensen was sitting back, staring into space, his hands clasped over his chest. He looked like he wouldn’t mind a quick nap.

To her own eyes, she could see Spencer everywhere: a pile of her DVDs next to the TV; her winter coat hanging from one of the dining chairs; her boots behind the door; her magazines on the coffee table; the Kirk and Spock glasses on the kitchen counter. She could even detect Spencer’s distinctive perfume lingering in the air.

“I was just about to put on coffee,” she said, walking towards the kitchen. “Can I get either of you a cup? It’s Hawaiian Kona.”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Sorensen replied before Eaves could prevent him.

“Agent Eaves?”

“No, thank you.”

She filled and set the coffee machine in silence before rejoining the agents.

Eaves didn’t look up from his notebook, nor did he bother with pleasantries or preamble. He started immediately in with facts and figures: where they met and when; how long they’d been dating.

“We have a few questions about your finances.”

“Yes?”

“You and your wife don’t appear to have any joint accounts or credit cards, as far as we can tell.” As with their prior encounter, Sorensen remained silent while Eaves took the lead.

“Is that so strange? The bills are all in my name and I’m not exactly struggling to pay them.”

“But not a single joint account?”

“Spencer works and her money is her own.” She really didn’t think that it was so unusual in modern times for spouses — even real ones — to keep separate finances.

“And she appears to be using that money to pay for another apartment.”

She had suspected his questioning would lead to this. “She only signed the lease a few weeks before our wedding. I assume it was cheaper to keep paying it than to buy it out.”

“Why would she start a new lease so soon before your marriage?”

“We weren’t engaged then. It was a very short engagement.”

“How short?” Eaves was sceptical.

“A week. We didn’t even have time to buy engagement rings.” She looked down at her wedding ring and wondered how much it had cost Kyla; she’d never asked.

“Surely with your wealth, you could afford a few hundred dollars to buy out a lease?”

Ashley shrugged. “If she had asked me, then I would have paid it. She didn’t ask.”

“She also hasn’t taken your name.”

“Ida Lupino didn’t change hers when she married.”

“Ida Lupino?” Eaves didn’t know the reference, but Sorensen’s mouth twitched with amusement.

“Actress and dancer in the 1940s,” Sorensen said. “Forced out by the studio system. Became one of the first prominent female directors.”

“Exactly,” Ashley agreed. Ida Lupino was Spencer’s great idol. “Spence’s name is integral to her career. It’s like her calling card, I guess.”

Still bristling at being upstaged by his partner, Eaves returned to his original line of questioning. “You don’t find it strange that your wife chooses to keep her own apartment?” He lifted his head to stare at her. “I think I should find it strange if my wife maintained a separate residence.”

She glanced at his hand. No ring.

“I have a beach house in Key West and another apartment in the Hollywood Hills. There’s also a lodge in Maine that I own jointly with my sister, although I’ve never been there.”

Before he could reply, the sound of Spencer’s key turning in the lock caught everyone’s attention.

“Honey, I’m home,” she called out in her usual wry greeting, as she backed into the apartment with a couple of grocery sacks in her arms.

Ashley moved swiftly to her side and took one of the bags from her. “Here, allow me to help you with those.”

Spencer furrowed her brow at Ashley’s unusually formal behaviour until she turned fully and noticed the two men now standing by their couch. “If you’d told me we were expecting guests, I’d have bought more food,” she quipped.

Ashley thought that Eaves looked disappointed by her wife’s sudden appearance. Either he hadn’t believed her when she’d said that Spencer was due home, or he was just irked that her arrival had interrupted his big interrogation. Either way, she took pleasure in his dissatisfaction.

“I was just about to make coffee,” she said, easing the second bag from Spencer’s arms. “You want some?”

“Always.”

She set the bags down on the kitchen counter as Spencer removed her coat and introduced herself to Agent Eaves. He was no less officious and unfriendly with her wife than he had been with her.

She put three mugs in front of the coffee pot. “What do you take, Agent Sorensen?” she asked.

“Cream, no sugar, isn’t it?” Spencer replied for him.

“Yes, ma’am. Well remembered.”

“And you, Agent Eaves?” Spencer asked.

“I don’t drink coffee.” He sounded irritated. He probably wished that they were at his office so that he was more in control of their surroundings.

“Water, juice, hot tea? We might even have herbal. I can check.”

Ashley grinned at Spencer’s deceptively pleasant tone. She poured the coffees and then opened the fridge to get the half-and-half. Before she could close the door, though, she was spun around and pulled into her wife’s arms.

Spencer’s mouth immediately covered her own in a kiss which was surprisingly possessive. For a moment, she forgot where they were and who else was there. She grasped the back of Spencer’s top with one hand, pulling them closer together, while the other hung by her side, only just keeping hold of the cream.

Just as she was adjusting to her initial surprise, Spencer stepped back, dropping a final, brief kiss on the tip of Ashley’s nose. She lifted two cups, tucked the canister of sugar under her arm and strolled through to the living area. Not knowing what else to do, Ashley picked up the remaining mug and the cream, and followed.

No-one spoke as Ashley and Sorensen prepared their coffees, but Ashley was aware of both Eaves’ tension and Spencer’s continued mild amusement.

“Miss Carlin, I was just asking your wife why you kept separate residences,” Eaves said. He was certainly not one for easing into his questions.

“Do you want the truth, Agent Eaves?” Spencer looked to Ashley briefly. “We married somewhat hastily and, frankly, I kept it as an insurance policy.”

“An insurance policy?” Ashley asked. They certainly hadn’t discussed that as part of their cover story.

Spencer addressed her directly. “I’d only just started the lease and it was going to cost over two thousand dollars to terminate. It just seemed like a good idea to keep it on.” She reached out and placed her hand on Ashley’s forearm. “As I told Agent Sorensen before, we’ve broken up several times over the course of our relationship. It’s not like I’ve used it, sweetheart. I think you’d have noticed if I slept somewhere else.”

“Yet you continued to have your mail delivered there for several months,” Eaves interjected, trying to bring the focus back to himself.

“Ah, well, that was just a mixture of laziness and procrastination. Every time I had a day off, there always seemed to be better things to do with my time.” She smiled coyly at Ashley, the implication of her statement clear.

If directing didn’t work out, then acting was a definite possibility for her wife, Ashley thought. The little glances, the little touches, the private smiles were all pretty suggestive of an intimate relationship. Even she was picturing lazy days spent enjoying marital relations and she was the only other person in the room who knew for certain that the marriage had never been consummated.

“In any case,” Spencer continued, “I gave the landlord my notice and the lease is terminated, effective the end of this month.”

Ashley hadn’t known that, but she was pleased to hear it.

“What was the date of your engagement, exactly?” Eaves asked, shifting gears. Ashley assumed it was an attempt to trip them up in the small details.

“September 14,” Spencer supplied.

He checked his notes. “A week before your wedding?”

“Yes. We didn’t want to wait.” Spencer was doing all the talking, but Ashley was quite happy to let her. Spencer seemed to handle Eaves with a lot less outward resentment than she herself could manage. And the kiss was still distracting her anyway. She had no idea what had prompted Spencer to do it, or why she had responded so enthusiastically.

“And what about your pre-nuptial agreement?”

“Oh, we don’t have a pre-nup,” Ashley answered. Spencer also shook her head.

“Is that not unusual when we’re dealing with such a financial disparity?”

Ashley found his suggestion offensive; doubtless that had been his intent. “I didn’t propose with the expectation that this marriage would fail, Agent Eaves. Pre-nups are for old men with trophy brides.”

He scribbled down something in his notebook and asked Spencer, “So, since your marriage, you’ve received no further money from your wife?”

“No further money?” Spencer echoed.

“Since the two-hundred thousand dollars she paid to you on,” he flipped through the pages of his notebook again, “June 23.”

“That money was an investment to fund Spencer’s film and not for her personal benefit,” Ashley replied. Although the money had come from her trust and not her personal account, she could see that it might look like she had paid Spencer to marry her. Spencer, however, had no idea that she had bankrolled her project: Ashley had sworn Kyla to secrecy.

“But you personally authorised the transaction.”

“And? Spencer’s my wife. She is best friends with my sister, Kyla, who is also a signatory on that account. And Mark, the producer, is Kyla’s ex. My sister and I agreed jointly on that investment in a project we cared about, being made by two people we care about, and I’m sure the production accounts can identify where all their money was spent anyway.” She was aware that Spencer was glancing in her direction, no doubt surprised by Ashley’s gesture. She wanted to reach out and take Spencer’s hand, but she didn’t want to make it look to Eaves as if they were overplaying their roles.

“So, to be clear, apart from this sizeable donation,” he pronounced the word with a sneering emphasis, “there are no financial ties between either of you?”

“I admit that I’m in the fortunate position that my wife keeps me,” Spencer said, unknowingly corroborating Ashley’s earlier version of events. “Except for occasional grocery shopping so I can surprise her with lunch,” she added. Ashley chuckled.

“But if you wanted money, you’d be forced to ask, seeing as you have no formal access to any of Miss Davies’ accounts?”

Ashley was quite pleased to catch Sorensen shaking his head. Spencer had been right in her assessment of the older man: he was on their side.

“I’m not sure I follow you, Agent Eaves. What could I possibly need extra money for, when Ash provides for everything already?”

Eaves pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He was obviously unhappy with the answers he had received.

“You haven’t taken your wife’s name.”

“No, and she hasn’t taken mine. We decided not to.”

“And none of your social networking profiles indicate that you’re married.”

Spencer sighed. “And before we got married, they didn’t indicate that I was single, either. I maintain them for professional reasons, so my relationship status has no bearing. Investors don’t care if I have a happy home life.”

“But you do mention that you’re a lesbian.”

“That was for professional reasons, though. The project I was developing at the time was about the high levels of homelessness among LGBT youth, comparative to their presence in the wider community. In that situation, the fact that the documentary was being shot by someone who had personal knowledge of what it was like to be a gay teenager seemed relevant.” She shrugged. “If I were to start a project on, say, the music scene in Los Angeles, I probably would mention that my wife came from that background. While I don’t particularly want my personal life being public knowledge, I’m not ashamed of being gay or of being married. In fact, I couldn’t be more proud of my wife.”

Ashley reached out and took Spencer’s hand this time. She didn’t care what Eaves thought. She just wanted to show her support for Spencer’s spirited defence against his snide insinuations.

The younger agent looked increasingly pained by their united front. His shoulders were hunched and his lips drawn together tightly. Ashley wondered if he might be homophobic as he seemed to be having trouble keeping the sneer off his face. Possibly, he just didn’t like women.

“Just one more thing, then. Miss Davies, how are you progressing with taking over your grandfather’s estate?”

She started to withdraw her hand from Spencer’s, only to find it being held in place. Spencer’s thumb brushed over her knuckles; it was intensely calming.

“I honestly don’t know,” she said. “I haven’t spoken to my probate lawyer since I lodged our marriage certificate with his firm six months ago. I imagine they’d have told me if there were any issues.”

“You’re saying that you’ve not pursued the money at all?”

“I haven’t not pursued it. It’s just not been a priority.” Although it had been her reason for marrying Spencer, she wasn’t lying. It really wasn’t a big priority any more.

“I would have thought that you would be keen to inherit such a vast sum.”

“Well, I’ve been somewhat busy with being a newly-wed. Besides, I have my own income, my father’s estate and continuing royalties, and, of course, my wife’s income.” She smiled at Spencer.

“Yeah, those medium-sized cable TV bucks really come in handy,” Spencer joked.

Eaves repeatedly clicked his pen in irritation and then closed his notebook, slipping it into his suit pocket. He stood. “Clearly, we’re not going to get any further today. I think we’ll leave it there for now.” He looked to Sorensen, who reluctantly put his coffee down. “And we’ll be in touch.”

Sorensen rose and extended his hand. “Good to see you again, Spencer. You two have a nice meal now.”

“Thanks, Carl.”

“Thank you for the coffee, Miss Davies.”

“Please, call me Ashley,” she replied.

She and Spencer stood simultaneously and accompanied Sorensen over to his partner, who was standing by the door, clenching and unclenching his fists. He really was wound far too tight, Ashley thought. Perhaps a swift punch in the face would sort him out. She could help him with that.

Her heartbeat quickened slightly and then evened out as Spencer’s hand came to rest on her lower back and rubbed soothingly in small circles. She appreciated the repeated efforts at keeping her calm.

“You’ll be hearing from us in due course,” Eaves said. “And that will be for formal interviews with your lawyers present.”

Not wanting to prevent him from getting the last word — something that she suspected was important to him — Ashley just nodded. Spencer continued to idly rub her back.

The two agents left, closing the door behind them. Spencer turned away and walked over to the kitchen. “So, are you hungry, or not?” she asked.

“I’m not bothered.”

The blonde nodded and checked the coffee pot. “More coffee?”

“No. I’m wired enough right now.” She flopped down on the couch where Sorensen had been and stretched her arms out, trying to work some of the tension from her shoulders. Spencer busied herself putting the groceries away.

Although she knew that they had handled the interview well enough, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Eaves had been holding something back. He had that air of someone with an unbeatable hand. It went beyond the pompous and hateful nature. He had been hiding something.

Spencer sat down at the other end of the couch. “Anyway, how did it go before I got here?”

“It was fine. They were only here about five minutes before you came home. He asked why we had no joint accounts and why you maintained a ‘separate residence’.” She made airquotes. “He basically asked all the same questions he asked you.”

“And what did you say?”

“Pretty much what you did — I’m rich enough to keep us both and it was too expensive to get out of the lease.” She folded her arms. “On which note, you thought you needed an escape route?” She knew that it made no sense for her to get upset, but she still resented the idea that she wasn’t a good bet and that anyone in a relationship with her would need a back-up plan.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you. It just kind of came to me on the spur of the moment.” Spencer sounded genuinely concerned.

“Well, I suppose I’m going to have to buy out your lease now anyway, after you told him that you’d given your notice. I’m sure he’ll check to see if you’re still paying rent next month.”

“That wasn’t a lie. I really did give notice. The lease allowed me to terminate after a minimum of six months and I just thought I should get rid of it.” She traced the rim of her cup with her finger. “You don’t mind, do you? I should really have asked you first.”

Ashley furrowed her brow. “Why should I mind? This is your home, too.” She said it without thinking, but realised immediately that she actually meant it.

“Oh. Right.”

“Were you thinking of moving somewhere else?” That thought disturbed her.

“Well, I’ll have to eventually when this all gets sorted.”

“I could buy you somwhere. It’s the least I could do.”

“Ashley, that’s way too expensive and it’s really not necessary.”

“You could consider it, I don’t know, compensation for my mother bringing all of this down on us.” Now that she’d thought of it, she was warming to the plan. Spencer deserved something more than just citizenship out of their arrangement. “After all, marrying you has been most financially beneficial to me.”

“About the money,” Spencer began. “The other money.”

“What about it?”

“I didn’t know that you’d paid for the documentary to get finished. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You don’t — well, you didn’t — like me and I didn’t want you to turn it down because of where it had come from, so I told Kyla I’d do it as long as it was anonymous.” She shrugged. “Just because we weren’t friends doesn’t mean that I didn’t support what you were doing. It was a great film.”

“You saw it?”

This time, Ashley laughed. “No matter what people think about me, I am actually pretty good at managing my various businesses. Of course I checked up on a such a huge investment.”

“You should have come to the premiere. That was the largest single donation we got.”

“Mark gave Kyla a DVD of the final film. We watched it here.”

Spencer smiled brightly at her. “Well, thank you very much for the money. And I promise that I’ll invite you to all my future premieres.”

“Well, I am your wife. I would hope that I’d get an invite, seeing as I now know how you’re not ashamed of me.” She sat up and leaned forward. Suddenly, she caught something out of the corner of her eye and laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“The mirror above the fireplace.”

“Yes?”

She looked up at the mirror and then over her shoulder. “You can see the kitchen in it from here.”

Spencer grinned and spread her arm along the back of the couch. “Can you really?”

“Yes, yes, you can. You can even see the fridge.”

“Oh?”

“You know, should there be anything to see in the fridge area.”

“What could there possibly be to see there?” Spencer teased.

“Nothing worth talking about,” Ashley retorted. “Not even sure why I even mentioned it.”

“Really? So what made you nearly drop the cream?”

Ashley glanced sideways at her wife. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“So that wasn’t you making that little happy noise?”

“I do not make happy noises!” She wasn’t sure that was true. She had been too dazed to know what she had done.

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Squeaky.”

“I do not squeak!”

“Do, too.”

“Not.” She felt aggrieved, whether because Spencer seemed to find the whole thing amusing or because she had acted like a total girl earlier by nearly fainting with pleasure, she did not know.

“Squeaky McSqueakerson,” Spencer murmured.

Ashley lay back, staring up the ceiling. “I thought you’d lost your mind, you know.”

“Because I kissed you? And here I thought that you believed that everyone — male and female — was desperate to do just that.”

“You’re not just anyone. And we already established that I’m not your type.”

“Well, I thought it would be good to let Agent Eaves see that we have a proper marriage.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know he could see us, so I thought you were just —” She didn’t know quite what she had thought of Spencer’s behaviour.

“Insane? Overcome with desire for you? Unable to take your presence a moment longer without acting on instinct? Drunk? What?”

“Insane,” Ashley decided. “I still can’t believe that you did it, even for an audience.”

“Well, it happened.”

“Yeah.”

“Marks out of ten?”

“I’d give it a two, max.” Ashley smiled to herself. It was probably the second-best kiss she’d ever been given. The best was still the one on her wedding day. Her wife was proving to be surprisingly good at that sort of thing. She fancied herself as having considerable skills in that area, but she had to allow that Spencer might just be better. A little bit better. Not too much. If there was a list of best kissers, she could accept Spencer being at number one, just beating her into second place.

“Two?” Spencer shrieked, laughing at the ridiculousness of the statement. “You make those adorable little noises just for a two? What do you do for a nine or a ten?”

“Well, if you ever get to that level, let me know and we’ll try it again and find out!” That was an idea that had real merit. They could practice together. Naked. For days. Weeks, possibly.

Whoa! Where had that thought come from?

“We should probably eat now,” she muttered. “You must be hungry and I know I’m starving.”

Spencer tilted her head and looked at her in confusion. “I thought you weren’t bothered?”

“Don’t be stupid,” she said. “When am I ever not in the mood for one of your famous home-cooked meals?”

“Uh, okay.”

“Come on, the food’s not going to cook itself!” Ashley all but sprinted for the kitchen, desperate to put some physical space between herself and her wife before she did something really ill-advised, like asking her out on a date.

* * * * *

Next up: Chapter 5 [U]

21 Comments

  1. spikkels
    Posted 11 May 2012 at 6.19pm | Permalink

    *sighs with happiness* <—- should cover how I feel about this post… I don't know who's getting more excited about them falling in love, me or Ashley…

  2. beckett
    Posted 11 May 2012 at 8.34pm | Permalink

    next chapter please!

  3. Posted 11 May 2012 at 9.16pm | Permalink

    Everyday, I’m skulking around twitter waiting to see a twitter update from dear dev&clom that says [UPDATES]. & TODAY, i saw it! please please please! another chapter!

  4. teddy
    Posted 12 May 2012 at 8.48am | Permalink

    I feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. This fic, I absolutely adore. Thank you so much for another amazing update <3

  5. Posted 12 May 2012 at 5.45pm | Permalink

    Love the progression. Love the interactions. Love the kitchen kiss (tease). I want more!

  6. Amy
    Posted 12 May 2012 at 11.38pm | Permalink

    I have found my new favorite fanfic! This is incredible!

  7. lol
    Posted 13 May 2012 at 9.24am | Permalink

    Best. Fanfic. Writer.
    Your fics are always interesting and the plot is really nice.
    Can’t wait for the next update!

  8. tuesboomer
    Posted 13 May 2012 at 11.35pm | Permalink

    We demand more premeditated kissing and the accompanying rating game.
    And will we get to see Eaves blow his stack in an unseemly manner for our satisfaction?

    And now…we await the answering salvo of an installment of CUFA from your partner in crime in these here parts.

  9. SONiluv
    Posted 14 May 2012 at 3.57am | Permalink

    this was wonderful “adorable little noises” Spence liked it too!!!!!!!!

  10. Guin
    Posted 15 May 2012 at 5.18am | Permalink

    I’m in love with your work. Every time I see an update I can’t click the link fast enough.

    Why do I get the feeling that Eaves knows about Spencer’s little affair?

  11. yeahbutno
    Posted 17 May 2012 at 2.24am | Permalink

    I had no clue that Lupino was English until I saw a blue plaque on a house in the street my BiL lived on a few years back. South of the river, it isn’t often I go over there!!!!! Always thought she was a ‘ murican.

    And that kiss, huh! made me * squeeeeeeeee* Spence is a saucy one.

    I don’t like Eaves. made me think of Eames and then Toombs in X Files, yes weird thought map, really don’t like him.

    So next chapter can have more kissing and less Eaves………purlease * bats eyelashes*

  12. yeahbutno
    Posted 17 May 2012 at 2.54am | Permalink

    and just cause you get married doesn’t mean taking their name, the swede’s is too weird together to change it!!! would be a shame.

  13. tee452
    Posted 19 May 2012 at 3.28am | Permalink

    Sometimes it’s like Dev is Stephen Fry and YBN is Alan Davies.

    And Spencer liked that kiss. The mirror was just a convenient cover.

    Thanks for the update, Dev.

  14. chelle5432
    Posted 20 May 2012 at 4.53pm | Permalink

    **pictures Yeebs as Alan Davies**

    **sniggers**

    Do you put some kind of hypnotic substance in your fics, Dev? Because it always feels like some kind of addiction! I can’t wait for more!

  15. yeahbutno
    Posted 20 May 2012 at 5.27pm | Permalink

    I am NOT anything like Alan Davies. I met him and his wife and wee baby last summer in a pub garden, He lives local and is a mahoosive Gunners fan, the Arse, as I call them. My wife and him bonded over Freddie Ljunberg as I told him that the Arse broke Champagne Charlie Nicholas and played peek-a-boo with his baby and talked nipple cracking with his wife!!!!!!!

    He is teeny tiny but has a massive, and I mean massive, head with lots of dead curly hair. He also wears crappy wrangler jeans.

    In his favour, he did say how he liked Celtic * high 5’s Dev*

  16. chelle5432
    Posted 20 May 2012 at 8.46pm | Permalink

    Oh be quiet. You so are the Alan Davies to Devs Stephen Fry. You just need to curl your hair and you’re there!

  17. yeahbutno
    Posted 20 May 2012 at 11.10pm | Permalink

    why do I get commments in my inbox now????? * stares * arfe you selling our personal details too????if so can you add that I like Barr Bru, might get some freebies!

    * stares more at chelle* am so not.

  18. tee452
    Posted 21 May 2012 at 3.32am | Permalink

    Down at the bottom, uncheck the notify boxes and you won’t get stuff in your email.

    These types of moments are why they remind me of you two:
    http://bit.ly/bwWXhR
    http://bit.ly/O3A3

  19. yeahbutno
    Posted 21 May 2012 at 8.43pm | Permalink

    ack ok, ta Tee.

    That frog one reminded me of when Frddie the Frog came thru our cat flap, we have no cat! and absolutely freaked out the swede, made me laugh.

    and I would cheat and say turtle rhymes

  20. yeahbutno
    Posted 21 May 2012 at 9.02pm | Permalink

    *Freddie

  21. tee452
    Posted 22 May 2012 at 1.05am | Permalink

    Hahaha, your honor, the prosecution rests.

    I can’t imagine you ever having a cat, ybn. Unless you followed it around everywhere with a vacuum, broom, and dustpan, lol. However, I think I’d rather have a frog than a cat.

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