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Feb. 17th, 2005 09:44 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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rareslashTitle: The Other Half
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nerdcakes
Fandom: Seinfeld
Pairing: Elaine/Various (warning: some het content)
Rating: PG-13, nothing more risque than you'd see on the show
Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine.
Summary: A series of barely-connected events. Very loosely based around the series four episodes, 'The Contest', 'The Airport', 'The Pick' and 'The Visa'.
“Why?” Elaine moped over the phone, “why is it that all the men I meet are either completely insane, completely unattractive or just complete morons? Where are all the good men?”
The Last Straw
If there was one thing Elaine was good at, it was self-denial.
Well, no, not self-denial, exactly. What she was good at was waiting. Not like the guys, with their need for instant gratification and immediate satisfaction. She was a woman. She could go for weeks without- you know... doing that.
‘See, it’s not a question of need’, she told herself firmly, ‘it’s about desire. You’re not like them. You’re not controlled by some sort of base, instinctive urge to think about meaningless orgasm and primal rutting-
‘Of course, you’re not helping the matter by thinking of phrases like ‘primal rutting’.’
She closed her eyes and attempted long division. And then short division. Then long multiplication. Unfortunately, matters of length weren’t exactly the sort of thing she really should have been concentrating on at the moment.
‘Queen of my castle, master of my domain, queen of my castle, queen of- shit.’ John F-fucking-Kennedy Junior. Working. Out. She squeezed her eyes closed and tangled her legs further into the blankets.
Technically, she decided, technically she wouldn’t have necessarily lost the contest if she didn’t actually finish. If she could just sort of maybe hold out and do without orgasm – god knew she’d done that enough with the men in her life.
Sadly, once she’d started, it became painfully clear that if there was one thing Elaine was no good at, it was self-restraint.
The Flight
The second her head touched the pillow, Elaine was gone. First class was warm, there was space and air that didn’t feel recycled! Somewhere in the distance she could hear the clamour, dirt and the noise of business class falling away, blanketed by soft, piped-in violin music. She closed her eyes and floated away on the first-class airline pillow.
“I’m sorry, Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to go back to your seat.” The stewardess towered over Elaine, who reflexively grasped the sides of her seat. “You are E. Benes, business class, aren’t you?”
“I might be.”
“I’m sorry,” the stewardess repeated, “these seats are for first class passengers only”. Elaine stared helplessly as behind the woman, someone was passing out cookies.
“What? No, wait-” she was clutching at straws, “don’t make me go back there! Please, I’ll do anything!”
The stewardess stopped. She looked Elaine up and down meaningfully, “anything?”
Elaine stared at her, disgusted, “What? No, not that. Not for the fluffiest cushions you’ve got, missy!” She stormed through the thin black curtain, back into the cramped horror of business class. The stewardess waited.
Fifteen minutes later, Elaine stormed back in. “Those cookies better be home baked” she declared.
Jerry was right. Once you’ve tried first class, you really can’t go back.
The Christmas Card
“I just don’t believe it” Elaine wailed, for what must have been the fiftieth time that day. “Honestly, I don’t believe I could have done something so incredibly stupid. When I get back to work I think I’ll have to murder half the office. And the guys! Don’t get me started on the guys.”
“Guys,” Dana snorted, refilling Elaine’s glass, “what do guys know about nipples?”
“Exactly! Exactly, they were giving me all this stuff about how it wasn’t a big deal, how everyone’s got nipples – I mean, yeah, we’ve all got nipples, but now everyone I know’s got a whole other nipple that they really didn’t need to see.” Elaine flopped sideways onto the couch and buried her face in Dana’s pillow. “Could I just lay low here until the whole thing blows over? It could be like I’d robbed a bank and you were hiding me from the cops, only with more shame and self-recrimination.”
Dana patted her shoulder, “I’m not sure that’d be the best plan, to be honest...”
“No, it’d be great – like a sleepover! Only I have no pyjamas here, but you’ve already seen my nipple so it’s not like there’s much more that could shock you.” She paused thoughtfully, “you know what I mean, right? About how guys’ nipples aren’t the same as girls’ nipples?” She took an unsteady gulp of whatever it was Dana had poured into her glass, “Say, for example, that you were a guy and I did this-”
“Hey, cut that out!”
“No, but you see what I mean? If you were a guy that’d just be a pretty standard grope but since you’re a girl it’s a high-level squeeze-”
“Maybe you’ve had enough wine...”
Dana reached forward and plucked the glass from Elaine’s hand. Elaine stared disjointedly at her empty hand and then back up at Dana’s blouse. “I think” she said, “that seeing as everyone and their cousin’s seen my nipple, it’s only fair that I should see a few nipples myself.” Dana’s back was heading towards the counter. “And given that we’ve already established that male nipples aren’t worth looking at anyway, I think I should move right onto the good stuff.”
“Elaine...” Dana decided it was probably best not to turn around just yet. She heard Elaine get up unsteadily before collapsing back onto the sofa, “you want me to call you a cab?”
“Dana, we know each other pretty well, I’d say we were quite good friends.” A pause, Elaine sounded tired. “Can I see your nipples?”
“You can see my nipples once you get home, okay?”
“Okay. But you gotta pay for the cab.”
Fifteen minutes later, Dana poured Elaine into the passenger seat of the yellow cab, dropped a kiss on her forehead and went back upstairs, ignoring the fact that Elaine’s eyes were burning scorch marks into her back.
Elaine turned to the driver, “Hey, you look vaguely female.” The driver grunted in a non-gender-specific manner and Elaine had a strong suspicion that he or she couldn’t actually understand the question.
“I was wondering” Elaine said, “if I could look at one of your nipples.”
The Lawsuit
Cheryl was a lawyer. She knew about negotiation and she knew when she had the upper hand. Elaine was... well, she was a publisher. But she was a damn good one, and she wasn’t about to let a little thing like complete and utter inexperience distract her from her goal.
“Listen.” She slammed her fist down on the desk, “I thought we had an agreement, dammit! You persuaded Ping to drop the charges, you can’t just- just- pick charges up again... can you?” Feeling as though she was losing momentum, she banged her fist on the desk again.
“Could you stop doing that?” Cheryl looked up from her slightly ruffled paperwork, “I’m sorry, Elaine, but my client’s made his decision and that decision is final.”
“Final like his last two decisions or really final? Because, if you don’t mind me saying so, you and your client seem to have a pretty loose grasp on the concept of finality and if this is final the way it was final last two times then I guess I don’t need to worry all that much after all.” Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had a feeling that this wasn’t the best of tactics. Cheryl was watching her intently and looked, mercifully, as though she wasn’t being goaded.
“You know what?” Cheryl said, “I’ve met some nutjobs in my time, Elaine, but you take the cake.”
This from a woman who’d spent a week dating George Costanza. Elaine decided she’d be better off if she avoided thinking about that right now. Instead she adjusted her jacket and leaned over the desk in the most intimidating way she could manage, “oh yeah? Well, I don’t care if you are the terminator. I am going to get one hell of a lawyer and kick your ass.”
Cheryl stood up. “You’re going to wish you never saw my client, let alone hit him.”
“Oh yeah?”
Elaine felt that the best way to avoid a potentially humiliating comeback was to take pre-emptive action. Cheryl’s next words were muffled slightly by the most distracting kiss Elaine could manage on the spur of the moment.
Cheryl pulled away, stunned, “did you just kiss me?”
“I might have.”
“Would you do it again?”
“Would you drop the lawsuit?”
“Done.”
Even an expert negotiator should never underestimate the power of an enthusiastic beginner.
*
“Why?” Elaine moped over her coffee, “why is it that all the women I meet are either totally power-crazy, totally uninterested or just total manipulators? Where are all the good women?”
Jerry sighed and picked at a piece of fluff on his jacket, “have you ever thought that the problem might not necessarily be with them?”
Elaine fixed him with a glare.
“No,” he said, “clearly not.”
Author:
nerdcakesFandom: Seinfeld
Pairing: Elaine/Various (warning: some het content)
Rating: PG-13, nothing more risque than you'd see on the show
Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine.
Summary: A series of barely-connected events. Very loosely based around the series four episodes, 'The Contest', 'The Airport', 'The Pick' and 'The Visa'.
“Why?” Elaine moped over the phone, “why is it that all the men I meet are either completely insane, completely unattractive or just complete morons? Where are all the good men?”
The Last Straw
If there was one thing Elaine was good at, it was self-denial.
Well, no, not self-denial, exactly. What she was good at was waiting. Not like the guys, with their need for instant gratification and immediate satisfaction. She was a woman. She could go for weeks without- you know... doing that.
‘See, it’s not a question of need’, she told herself firmly, ‘it’s about desire. You’re not like them. You’re not controlled by some sort of base, instinctive urge to think about meaningless orgasm and primal rutting-
‘Of course, you’re not helping the matter by thinking of phrases like ‘primal rutting’.’
She closed her eyes and attempted long division. And then short division. Then long multiplication. Unfortunately, matters of length weren’t exactly the sort of thing she really should have been concentrating on at the moment.
‘Queen of my castle, master of my domain, queen of my castle, queen of- shit.’ John F-fucking-Kennedy Junior. Working. Out. She squeezed her eyes closed and tangled her legs further into the blankets.
Technically, she decided, technically she wouldn’t have necessarily lost the contest if she didn’t actually finish. If she could just sort of maybe hold out and do without orgasm – god knew she’d done that enough with the men in her life.
Sadly, once she’d started, it became painfully clear that if there was one thing Elaine was no good at, it was self-restraint.
The Flight
The second her head touched the pillow, Elaine was gone. First class was warm, there was space and air that didn’t feel recycled! Somewhere in the distance she could hear the clamour, dirt and the noise of business class falling away, blanketed by soft, piped-in violin music. She closed her eyes and floated away on the first-class airline pillow.
“I’m sorry, Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to go back to your seat.” The stewardess towered over Elaine, who reflexively grasped the sides of her seat. “You are E. Benes, business class, aren’t you?”
“I might be.”
“I’m sorry,” the stewardess repeated, “these seats are for first class passengers only”. Elaine stared helplessly as behind the woman, someone was passing out cookies.
“What? No, wait-” she was clutching at straws, “don’t make me go back there! Please, I’ll do anything!”
The stewardess stopped. She looked Elaine up and down meaningfully, “anything?”
Elaine stared at her, disgusted, “What? No, not that. Not for the fluffiest cushions you’ve got, missy!” She stormed through the thin black curtain, back into the cramped horror of business class. The stewardess waited.
Fifteen minutes later, Elaine stormed back in. “Those cookies better be home baked” she declared.
Jerry was right. Once you’ve tried first class, you really can’t go back.
The Christmas Card
“I just don’t believe it” Elaine wailed, for what must have been the fiftieth time that day. “Honestly, I don’t believe I could have done something so incredibly stupid. When I get back to work I think I’ll have to murder half the office. And the guys! Don’t get me started on the guys.”
“Guys,” Dana snorted, refilling Elaine’s glass, “what do guys know about nipples?”
“Exactly! Exactly, they were giving me all this stuff about how it wasn’t a big deal, how everyone’s got nipples – I mean, yeah, we’ve all got nipples, but now everyone I know’s got a whole other nipple that they really didn’t need to see.” Elaine flopped sideways onto the couch and buried her face in Dana’s pillow. “Could I just lay low here until the whole thing blows over? It could be like I’d robbed a bank and you were hiding me from the cops, only with more shame and self-recrimination.”
Dana patted her shoulder, “I’m not sure that’d be the best plan, to be honest...”
“No, it’d be great – like a sleepover! Only I have no pyjamas here, but you’ve already seen my nipple so it’s not like there’s much more that could shock you.” She paused thoughtfully, “you know what I mean, right? About how guys’ nipples aren’t the same as girls’ nipples?” She took an unsteady gulp of whatever it was Dana had poured into her glass, “Say, for example, that you were a guy and I did this-”
“Hey, cut that out!”
“No, but you see what I mean? If you were a guy that’d just be a pretty standard grope but since you’re a girl it’s a high-level squeeze-”
“Maybe you’ve had enough wine...”
Dana reached forward and plucked the glass from Elaine’s hand. Elaine stared disjointedly at her empty hand and then back up at Dana’s blouse. “I think” she said, “that seeing as everyone and their cousin’s seen my nipple, it’s only fair that I should see a few nipples myself.” Dana’s back was heading towards the counter. “And given that we’ve already established that male nipples aren’t worth looking at anyway, I think I should move right onto the good stuff.”
“Elaine...” Dana decided it was probably best not to turn around just yet. She heard Elaine get up unsteadily before collapsing back onto the sofa, “you want me to call you a cab?”
“Dana, we know each other pretty well, I’d say we were quite good friends.” A pause, Elaine sounded tired. “Can I see your nipples?”
“You can see my nipples once you get home, okay?”
“Okay. But you gotta pay for the cab.”
Fifteen minutes later, Dana poured Elaine into the passenger seat of the yellow cab, dropped a kiss on her forehead and went back upstairs, ignoring the fact that Elaine’s eyes were burning scorch marks into her back.
Elaine turned to the driver, “Hey, you look vaguely female.” The driver grunted in a non-gender-specific manner and Elaine had a strong suspicion that he or she couldn’t actually understand the question.
“I was wondering” Elaine said, “if I could look at one of your nipples.”
The Lawsuit
Cheryl was a lawyer. She knew about negotiation and she knew when she had the upper hand. Elaine was... well, she was a publisher. But she was a damn good one, and she wasn’t about to let a little thing like complete and utter inexperience distract her from her goal.
“Listen.” She slammed her fist down on the desk, “I thought we had an agreement, dammit! You persuaded Ping to drop the charges, you can’t just- just- pick charges up again... can you?” Feeling as though she was losing momentum, she banged her fist on the desk again.
“Could you stop doing that?” Cheryl looked up from her slightly ruffled paperwork, “I’m sorry, Elaine, but my client’s made his decision and that decision is final.”
“Final like his last two decisions or really final? Because, if you don’t mind me saying so, you and your client seem to have a pretty loose grasp on the concept of finality and if this is final the way it was final last two times then I guess I don’t need to worry all that much after all.” Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had a feeling that this wasn’t the best of tactics. Cheryl was watching her intently and looked, mercifully, as though she wasn’t being goaded.
“You know what?” Cheryl said, “I’ve met some nutjobs in my time, Elaine, but you take the cake.”
This from a woman who’d spent a week dating George Costanza. Elaine decided she’d be better off if she avoided thinking about that right now. Instead she adjusted her jacket and leaned over the desk in the most intimidating way she could manage, “oh yeah? Well, I don’t care if you are the terminator. I am going to get one hell of a lawyer and kick your ass.”
Cheryl stood up. “You’re going to wish you never saw my client, let alone hit him.”
“Oh yeah?”
Elaine felt that the best way to avoid a potentially humiliating comeback was to take pre-emptive action. Cheryl’s next words were muffled slightly by the most distracting kiss Elaine could manage on the spur of the moment.
Cheryl pulled away, stunned, “did you just kiss me?”
“I might have.”
“Would you do it again?”
“Would you drop the lawsuit?”
“Done.”
Even an expert negotiator should never underestimate the power of an enthusiastic beginner.
*
“Why?” Elaine moped over her coffee, “why is it that all the women I meet are either totally power-crazy, totally uninterested or just total manipulators? Where are all the good women?”
Jerry sighed and picked at a piece of fluff on his jacket, “have you ever thought that the problem might not necessarily be with them?”
Elaine fixed him with a glare.
“No,” he said, “clearly not.”
no subject
Date: 2005-02-17 10:23 pm (UTC)Methinks that perhaps She squeezed her eyes clothes should be closed, btw. :)
“Those cookies better be home baked” she declared Hee! Fantabulous.
And nipples! And relationships with women being just as crazy as the ones with men! Oh, yay. :D
no subject
Date: 2005-02-17 10:30 pm (UTC)You don't know that! It could have been meant to be that way! *flails defensively* *stealth-edits*
Eee, glad you liked. I think that Elaine's complete inability to maintain normal relationships has got to be the one constant feature of her lovelife ;)
no subject
Date: 2005-02-18 12:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-18 01:06 pm (UTC)If there's one thing that irritates me about Seinfeld, it's the fact that the character I most want to slash is the only girl, dammit!