After the Calling

<<The Lie: Part II

Warnings: I was ranting and couldn’t fit in the warnings, so I thought I’d put them here. But I have no actual warnings, just an admission that vampirism can be damn sexy. You know what, that’s going to be my warning. Damn sexy vampirism.

And profanity.

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“What is this place? A factory?” Aeryn asked as she got out of the car. Mickey had brought her to a small, industrial looking domicile in the middle of a barren plain.

“It’s an old warehouse, I think,” Mickey said, slamming the car door. “Storage or something. Farm supplies, maybe.” Mickey shrugged, seeming to be throwing ideas out from the top of her head. “Whatever it was, it’s a bit of a rusty bachelor pad now.”

Aeryn looked up at the crumbling brick walls. “Are you sure it’s safe? I mean, it’s a little exposed isn’t it?”

“Well, I guess it depends on your definition of ‘exposed’,” Mickey said, walking around the car and motioning for Aeryn to follow.

“You can see anyone coming for miles away,” she said. “So it’s not at all easy to sneak up on us. And we’re also so far out that no one would think of coming in this direction in any case.”

It made sense, and Aeryn nodded. She followed as Mickey walked toward the front door. “Does Chauncey…um…does he know that I… saw what happened?”

“No,” Mickey answered. “But he will.”

“You’ll tell him?” Aeryn asked anxiously. “I don’t want him to know I was spying!”

Mickey laughed. “You weren’t spying. You were looking for your friend who snuck out alone in the middle of the night after a bunch of head cases just tried to kill us. You just happened to find said friend in a… special situation. No harm, no foul.”

Aeryn wasn’t convinced and she slowed as they approached the home. “I don’t know, Mickey.”

Mickey started up the stairs and turned to look at her. “Seriously, Aeryn, the whole thing was my fault. I should have let you in on it from the get-go, and I didn’t. I’m sorry for that, but Chauncey needs to know. I’m the last person to jump into the role of the helpless woman, but right now he can look after us a lot better than we can, and he doesn’t need a distraction. He’s an aerokinetic. A really frickin’ strong one. He can do things with the wind that I wouldn’t think possible had I not seen him do it. You, on the other hand, aren’t a very strong psychic, no offense. And me? Well, I know I can’t heal anyone to death. I’ve tried.” She flashed Aeryn a comforting look. “We kinda need him. So let’s just get all the uncomfortable stuff out of the way and move on.”

“Alright,”  Aeryn agreed reluctantly.

“Do you want to tell him?”

“Wh- What?! No!” Aeryn stammered, drawing back. “Why would think that I – I mean… I don’t even – he hasn’t even met me so why would I – its just better if… No. No, no.”

She took a deep breath, calming her tone. “Look, Mickey, if he has to know then it should be you to tell him.”

“Okay, okay, relax,” Mickey laughed. “He’s a big teddy bear, Aeryn, but it’s fine. I’ll tell him.”

Neither of them had noticed that the door had opened, and a tall, broad shouldered man was standing tensely in the doorway, looking down at them. “Tell me what?” he asked quietly.

Aeryn was surprised to see that his white head of hair from the night before had been replaced by a thick mass of red strands.

Mickey turned, not at all alarmed by his sudden appearance, and lithely hopped up the steps toward him. “That Aeryn saw us last night.”

Aeryn almost choked on her tongue, she recoiled so hard. She could only gape at Mickey, horrified. She had assumed that she would talk to him privately. In the time Aeryn had known her, Mickey had never been anything other than straightforward, but this was hardly expected.

Chauncey stiffened visibly, a look of surprise and guilt overcoming his face.

“There, it’s out. We can move on,” Mickey said, but if was obvious that neither Chauncey nor Aeryn was as confident as she was. “Oh my goodness, chill out.” She placed a hand on Chauncey’s back and looked over at Aeryn as if do the same. “You too.”

As if her hand was a source of comfort, Chauncey’s muscles almost immediately relaxed, but the look of guilt did not leave him. Aeryn, however, was not so quick to comply.

She stuttered out the semblance of a sentence, “I – I didn’t mean to spy, I was just – I was looking for Mickey, and – I’m sorry… I…” she let her voice trail off.

“You’re not at fault,” he said in a cheerless baritone, looking down at the ground. “I’m… only sorry you had to see that.”

“No, I think… in some ways it was necessary,” Aeryn responded. “And I understand that you would not have done it otherwise if my safety had not been at stake.”

He looked up then. “I would never –” he started but Mickey reached up and tugged gently on his collar.

“Safety from whoever is out to get us,” she said reassuringly, “Not from you.”

Chauncey nodded, but he still looked very uncomfortable. He glanced back over at Aeryn, his gaze shifty as if looking her in the eye was difficult. “Hopefully you will never have to be witness to behavior like that ever again.”

“Witnessing behavior?” Mickey scrunched her face. “Come on, we’re not in a disciplinarian’s office. We’re all here, we’re all adults, and we’re all cool. Right?”

Both Aeryn and Chauncey opened their mouths to speak, but thought better of it.

Mickey took the actions to be an affirmation and nodded. “Right.”

They fell into silence, Mickey the only one seeming to be immune to the tension. She looked over at Chauncey expectantly. “Sooooo, are you going to invite us in? Or are we going to stand out here all night and be weird.”

Chauncey snapped out of it then, and moved aside. “Forgive me. Come in. Please.”

Aeryn walked stiffly up the stairs and in through the door, careful to keep her gaze low and to herself.

The building had definitely been a warehouse or factory at some point in the past, but Chauncey had made it livable and cozy. The place seemed to be powered by generator, as there was a barely audible hum coming from somewhere. The front room was warmed by the light of an old stove furnace and a fire place. The walls were lined with pipes and switches, and a grand piano sat conspicuously in the corner. Most odd was the automatic weapon that was mounted aggressively above the fireplace.

Aeryn jumped at the sound of a loud clanging noise behind her. She turned to see Chauncey sliding a steel metal gate into place.

“Overkill,” Mickey said, walking up beside her. She gestured to the gate. “It’s only locked on the outside, so you can open it from in here.” She smiled. “Don’t feel trapped.”

“I don’t,” Aeryn replied, trying to keep her nerves out of her voice.

“Ugh, I frickin’ hate road trips,” Mickey complained nonchalantly, leaning on the edge of the worn couch. “I feel like we’ve been driving for years.”

“Did you treat her nicely?” Chauncey asked turning around to face them.

Mickey gaped at him. “Did we treat her nicely? Maybe you want to ask if she treated us nicely! That piece of crap wouldn’t break 65 without acting like it was going to shake apart.”

Aeryn realized then that they were talking about the car that she and Mickey had driven up in. It was a temperamental thing that did shake a bit once Mickey accelerated past 60 mph.

“Oh man…”Chauncey ran a hand through his hair, a pained look on his face. “You were shifting too fast. You have to go easy on the clutch. She doesn’t change gears like she used to.”

“Oh, look at you looking like I just murdered your best friend. You’re lucky I didn’t drive the damn thing under a truck,” Mickey said, laughing.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d avoid doing that…” Chauncey replied quietly, still looking pained.

From his tone, Aeryn could tell that his soft manner was natural to him. He stood with his hands behind him, as if to keep from breaking anything, and wore an expression on his face that Aeryn could only describe as sympathetic. Despite his size and build he seemed to be pretty accurate to Mickey’s description. A big teddy bear. But despite all of that, she couldn’t get the image of him biting Mickey out of her brain.

“God, I’ve got to get out of these clothes.” Mickey stretched and turned to Aeryn. “Hey, I’ve got clean clothing upstairs, if you want to change out. There is also a tub that I’m totally going to bumrush, but if you want to go first, be my guest.”

Aeryn nodded, feeling awkward and out of place. Anything that she could do that involved her leaving the room would be a godsend.

“Up those stairs and to your left. Here,” Mickey moved to stand, “I’ll show you.”

“No, no it’s okay,” Aeryn answered, waving her back down. “I can figure it out. You guys can… I’ll be fine.” She turned and made her way hurriedly toward the spiral stairs, pretending not to feel their eyes on her.

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Chauncey let go of the breath that he’d been holding when Aeryn left the room

“Ugh, I feel gross,” Mickey said, making a face. “I need to put on something clean.”

He watched her make her way towards the curtained corner that serviced as his bedroom. He maintained his silence as she rummaged through his clothing rack for something of hers and changed quickly.

Redoing her ponytail, she returned to the living area.

Along with clean clothing she was also wearing a smile, but it quickly faded when she caught a glimpse of his expression. “Oh, don’t you start with me.”

He hung his head low, shaking it slowly. “You should have told her beforehand, Mickey,” he said. “It’s obvious that she’s uncomfortable here.”

“Oh, please,” Mickey replied, waving him off. “You’re being paranoid.”

“I’m not being paranoid. I can – ,” he stopped himself. He didn’t want to tell her that his senses had become so heightened that he had practically heard the beads of sweat forming on Aeryn’s brow. That he could taste her anxiety. That even now, from the floor above them, Aeryn’s aura spoke to him in ways he could not describe. He rubbed his clammy palms roughly over his jeans. “And you pretending like this whole thing isn’t a big deal is only making it worse. There’s a giant pink gorilla in the room, and you’re just ignoring it.”

Mickey smiled, walking around the couch. “I think I would describe you as more of a giant red-headed gorilla.”

He leaned heavily on the balstraude. “Mickey, don’t joke about this,” he pleaded gently.

“Why not?” She shrugged. “It’s funny.” But at the look on his face she let out an exasperated sigh. “Maybe she’s just not used to all this jumping around. She’s apart of our group now and she’ll learn to deal with the routine.”

“This is far from routine,” he said.

“You know what? It doesn’t even matter either way. Layne trusted me with her, and he knew exactly where I was heading. So clearly, he trusted you with her. She would have been here regardless.” She said climbing on the worn leather couch.

“But it would have been easier if… I mean, she saw us…no, she saw me…” He sighed. “She just didn’t have to find out that way. She had the right to know about me,” he said quietly, looking down.

“Right to know what?” she asked, leaning back. “That you’re our safest bet in all of this? That you have the self-esteem of a 13-year-old girl? That you’re afraid of cats? All of those facts are just as important as the fact that you’re vampiric. And excuse me if I didn’t think that any of them were so important that I had to shout it from the rooftops… except for maybe the cat thing because that’s… well, that’s just hysterical.”

Chauncey pushed himself off the balustrade and walked to the edge of the couch so he could look Mickey in the eye. “So you’re saying that the fact that I am capable of killing her isn’t important? That she doesn’t have to be aware of the danger she’s in?”

Mickey sat upright and returned his glare. “Well, are you going to kill her?” she asked sharply.

“What kind of question – of course not!” Chauncey said, feeling his resolve falter.

“Then what the fuck is bunching your panties? She knows what’s up, and she’ll work it out in her own time. In fact, she’ll probably be more understanding than most. She has…” Mickey made a waving gestured toward nothing in particular, “… her own stuff.”

He looked down at her incredulously. “I hate that you’re taking this so lightly! This isn’t a game!”

“What do you want me to say?! You’re capable of killing her? What the fuck is that? Give me a gun and good aim and, oh look at that, I’m capable of killing her too!” She began to whine in a squeaky voice. “Oh no, isolate me from civilization, never look at me again. Boohoo.”

“Actually, they do that,” Chauncey muttered. “It’s called prison.”

“Oh my – UGH!” Mickey groaned in frustration. “Look, just the fact that we’re having this argument proves that you have absolutely no intent on harming her. She’s probably in better hands with you than she is with me.”

He turned away from her. “You know better than anyone that what I intend to do and what actually happens are two different things.”

Mickey hopped on her knees and grabbed his arm, pulling him back around.

She turned her head to the side, revealing the area where he had bitten her. It was completely healed. Not even a scar. It hadn’t been 24 hours and she was already recovered.

“What? This?” she asked. “There isn’t anything here. And I’m no worse for wear. Maybe if you’d let me help you more often, stop trying to run on empty, your actions and your intentions might be more in sync.” She ran a thumb down the line of her neck. “Besides, I didn’t make the rule against biting. You did.”

Chauncey inhaled sharply and forced himself to look away from her neck. He silently scolded himself for being painfully aware of the arterial pulse directly above her clavicle. His aura was fine, full from the night before. He had taken a serum that would keep it from eroding for a good while. There was no need for him to take anything from her now. But the demon in him was never really sated.

Mickey was staring at him intently, holding her hands to her chest. He could sense her creeping around the edges of his psyche, slithers of auroric energy taunting him.

He immediately put up a psychic barrier against her, scandalized, and spun to walk away, but she grabbed his wrist.

“Why fight it?!” she asked angrily, pulling him toward her. “Why, if I’m offering?!”

“Why force it on me?” he replied, resisting. “Why make it harder for me? Stop trying to make this normal, Mickey! It isn’t. It’s disgusting! It’s sick!”

“Why? Because Rowanne says it is? Because the brand on your face says it is?”

“Because if I did to anyone else what I did to you, they’d be dead! That’s why!”

She released him and sat back on her ankles.“It would not have had to happen that way if you didn’t let your aura whittle down to a lump of shit,” Mickey said coolly.

He shook his head. “Your way doesn’t work.”

“It does! There have been hundreds of cases where vampirics lived healthy lives on the donations of others. Donations from people who weren’t healers. Hell, half of them weren’t even psychic. No harm came to any of them. Even Rowanne sanctioned it.”

“Auroric energy, not puranic.”

“That’s because Rowanne was busy telling people that purana didn’t exist!”

“And she was right to do it.” Chauncey said quietly. “You know better than anyone what blood energy can do to people.”

“She was right to lie to thousands?” Mickey asked disbelievingly, eyes narrowed in anger.

“Purana is dangerous, Mickey.”

“Only when fools like you starve themselves to the brink of insanity, lost control, and then commit acts that they regret later,” she said, spitefully. “In the grand scheme, energy is energy, puranic, auroric, whatever.”

Chauncey shook his head. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“You know what’s bullshit?” she said. “That fact that you think letting yourself suffer makes you a better person, but it only brings out the worst in you. It brings out that part of you that could hurt Aeryn, or anyone else that came within 50 feet of you. I know that much is true.”

“No,” he said, knowing it wasn’t a real answer. He couldn’t tell her that she was wrong, but he didn’t want to admit that she was probably right. Running a nervous hand through his hair, he stood still for a moment, watching from under his eyelids as she approached him again. He could sense her auroric energy crowding around the barrier he had placed around his psyche. He was very tempted to let it down.

“Let me in,” she commanded softly.

He shook his head, but didn’t move as she crawled to the edge of the couch and eased her way up his torso. As she leaned up to kiss him, she took a hold of his wrist, and placed his hand against the small of her back. He followed her lead and embraced her, returning her kiss softly, but she ran a hand behind his neck and pressed her lips harder against his. He felt his auroric block beginning to weaken, and he could sense her poking holes in it, small wisps of energy making their way in, feeding his gluttonous aura. It angered him that although his aura was already gorged, it was continuing to take energy, but the strength to resist had left him.

Mickey bit his lip gently before turning her head away from him, baring her neck again.

He flinched. “Christ, Mickey. There’s no need for that.” But he let his head fall into the cradle between her neck and her shoulder, breathing in her scent, listening to the sound of her blood moving under her skin, his one desire being to taste the life energy that coursed through her veins. But that was just it. It was a desire, a craving, not a need.

Last night when he had bitten her, it had been for need. His barren aura had pained for it, and he had given in, barely able to control himself. It had been a heated, uncalculated move based entirely on impulse. In fact, he had hurt her. She’d never admit it, but he was sure of it. It hadn’t been until her blood had hit the back of his throat and the fog had lifted, that he once again became aware of his actions.

Pain was an unnecessary, bestial thing. The result of negligence, selfishness, and greed, it did no favors to either party. In the presence of pain, the aura closed up, barricading its energy, struggling to save itself. Blood vessels constricted, slowing the flow of purana, fangs dug deeper, pain begot more pain, a slow circle of torture usually ending with one dead, and another unsatisfied. It was something easily avoided and replaced with a sensation so viciously pleasurable that weak-kneed auras opened up completely, energy pouring from both the psyche and the veins. The only resistance would be against stopping. Some would have so succumbed to the ecstasy of it that they would welcome their death with open arms.

Chauncey knew that Rowanne had been right to try and hide Purana from the masses. It was only a means for torment. Like the torment he was feeling now.

Damn it, Chauncey thought to himself. His psychic barrier had disintegrated and Mickey’s aura had practically wrapped itself around his. He was almost drunk on the never-ending surge of energy, his own psyche overflowing and still trying to take more. The warmth from her aura had set every nerve ending in his body on fire, and he tingled from head to toe with an exquisite heat. Mickey had pressed herself against him with such a force that he felt she may pass right through his chest, and she was causing an unignorable stirring in his groin.

He pressed his mouth against the base of her neck, near the well of her clavicle, and nearly melted as he felt the rapid rise and fall of her pulse under his lips.

You do not need this, he told himself, even as his tongue ran the line of his fangs. He parted his lips, listening as Mickey’s breathing became quick and heavy in anticipation.

Chauncey, stop, he said to himself, as he let tips of his fangs rest on the skin right above her carotid artery. This is completely unnecessary. He preferred arteries over veins, spurting over oozing. Don’t do it. He was so close. The curvature of her neck was so familiar to him. Just a little pressure and he’d break the skin. Don’t, Chauncey.

“Chauncey, do it,” Mickey spoke breathlessly. “You want to. I want you to. Just do it.”

And suddenly he was speeding back to reality. He pulled his mouth from her neck, and, gripping her shoulders, lifted her away from him. It was almost painful to do, but he forced her out of his aura and replaced the hefty barricade he had put up before. Keeping her at an arms length, he held a palm to his temple, and tried to regain the control he had lost. She didn’t fight him in any of this, she simply watched him with an expression of disappointment.

When he had managed to calm down some, he spoke. “That isn’t something that I… want to do,” he lied. “And you shouldn’t want me to do it.”

Mickey laughed bitterly, her tone irritated. “Why not? Does that make me disgusting? Does that make me sick? That I enjoy sharing my energy? That I love the sensation of it? Forget the fact that I’m a healer, and I make energy for the sole purpose of sharing it. Forget what I was born doing. Psychic connection would make anyone with a nervous system feel wonderful, but to you it’s sick and disgusting and not normal,” she quoted him. Leaning her head to the side, she tried to catch his gaze, but he was evading her.

He struggled to find some sort of equilibrium, but his body was not responding to him. Every single cell was rebelling, angered by the anticlimax. “Don’t take it that way.”

“Don’t take it that way?” Mickey raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “Don’t be offended that unless it’s an act of necessity… no, no an act of charity, I can’t even touch the man that I’m in love with. That he won’t accept anything from me unless it’s out of fucking pity? Don’t take it that way? Well, tell me how I’m supposed to take it. Please. The floor is yours.”

Chauncey took a deep breath, having to remind himself to breathe. “Don’t twist it around, Mickey. You know what I meant.”

She clasped her hands as if waiting. “No, I don’t. That’s why I’d really love to hear you explain it. I mean, we’ve already established that you’d prefer to spend your free time being in agony, like that’s a fucking hobby. But when was it decided that the universe had to implode if I got my kicks from it? What’s wrong with me wanting something from you? What’s wrong with me wanting you, period? Seriously, the floor is yours.”

“That’s not what I’m…” he sighed, gripping his temples with both hands. “You can sense my aura. You can see that it’s fine. There is no need for any of… that.”

“So what?”

He dropped his hands but continued to avoid her gaze. “It’s not ‘so what’. I’m not going to take from you what I don’t need.”

“You aren’t taking anything. I’m giving you –”

“Whatever you want to call it, I don’t want to do it just because I can.”

“Why not?!”

“Because I’m not Arden!” He regretted the sentence the moment it left his lips.

Mickey fell quiet and leaned back, as if retreating. It was barely a reaction, but in her surrender, he knew that his words had stung. Her past was something she tried to keep under wraps, make excuses for, but he saw right through her.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a beat.

She slumped down off her knees, falling back onto the couch, and smoothed her hair behind her ears. “Don’t be.”

“No, I am,” he said, gripping the back of his neck. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”

“He’s got everything to do with this,” she said quietly.

Chauncey watched her tautly for a minute before circling the couch and reaching for her. “Come here.”

“No, no, don’t… Don’t.”

“Come here, come here, come here,” he insisted, sitting on the couch and scooping her to him.

“Oh fuck,” she said, leaning into his chest. She gripped her head with both hands, and took some deep breaths.

Chauncey knew she wasn’t crying. Mickey wasn’t a crier, but he pulled her closer.

“I know you’re not Arden,” she said into his sleeve, uncharacteristically avoiding his gaze. “And I think that’s why I’m always so frantic about sharing energy with you. It was never a choice with him. I either gave it or he took it from me. When he bit me, it hurt. When he took from my aura, it would take me days to recover. He probably didn’t mean it, but…”

Mickey very rarely spoke of Arden, or what he did to her. If she did, it was, unbelievably, in his defense. But Chauncey knew what he had seen with his own eyes. A young girl, 14, not much younger than him at the time, being brought to the brink of death day in and day out, all for the gratification of a monster. Still a kid himself, he hadn’t known what to do, so he went to the only people who had ever helped him in his entire life, Jericho and Ryan Lee.

Somehow, with the help of many others, they had managed to save her, but now, as he looked on, she seemed to be returning to that beat up 14 year old girl in the clutches of a demon.

“Hey,” he called to her. “Come back.”

She blinked and sat up, shaking her head as if shaking off the bad memories. She looked over at him and ran a hand down his face. “Maybe I’m trying to make up for everything I lost to him by giving myself to someone deserving.”

“What about keeping something for yourself? You’re the most deserving person I know.”

She stared at him for a moment before laughing.

He smiled. “Seriously. How about you try taking care of yourself for a change? Stop worrying about what you can do for others. What you can do for me.”

“There’s no fun in that,” she said, running her hand down his arm. “And I like taking care of you.”

He could sense her aura warming up for another assault.

“No, Mickey, I’m serious,” he said. “The state of my aura shouldn’t be your top priority. Every time you touch me, there doesn’t have to be energy behind it.”

‘What’s your deal?” She threw out an arm in protest. “It’s not hurting anything,” she murmured.

“That isn’t the point,” he said. “God, I appreciate you more than anything. Everything you do for me. But every time you… heal me, I’m reminded of what I am. I understand if I need it, especially with Aeryn around. And if I’m at that point where my aura has dissolved into dust, then I’m being reminded of what I am anyway. That reminder is much louder and more painful than anything you could come up with. But, if I’m fine… if I’m feeling human again, I don’t really want to be reminded. I just really want to be with you.”

She said nothing, rubbing her shoulder in contemplation. But, after a moment, he felt her aura retreat back to neutral territory.

She leaned into him, letting the sound of the fire burning in the fireplace fill the silence. After a while, she chuckled quietly.

“What?” Chauncey asked.

She looked up at him and giggled. “You are so corny.”

“Eh,” He gave a small smile. “You love it.”

“That’s just it,” she said. “I really do.” She gripped his vest and pulled herself closer to his chest, closing the small gap between them. She bought her lips close to his.

“Does this mean I won this fight?” he asked, his lips brushing hers.

“Hardly.” She moved to kiss him, but before their lips met she jump, as if she had just remember something.

“Holy shit! Aeryn!” she pulled herself from Chauncey arms. “I need to check on her. You spent all this time arguing with me while you had guests! You are a terrible host!”

“I – what? Me?!” Chauncey exclaimed as she rushed past him.

“Terrible host!” she called back to him.

The Lie: Part III (B)>>

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WRITER’S RANT CONTINUED

I am really sorry about the poo-rific graphics. This update could have been a lot hotter if Chauncey’s freckles weren’t blending into his stubble. Damn him to hell (Holy crap I love him). I’ll get rid of some of that clutter and force my game to refresh the next time I dive it.
Aeryn, for some reason, looks like a waif, I don’t know why, the mesh isn’t that skinny. Mickey has a jerktastic hair mesh that ruins a couple of pictures, but I… just… couldn’t. Sorry for all of these things. But outside of that, I thought I’d share an incident that happened about 37 times while I was taking pictures for this.

You could not touch that damn stove without setting something on fire, Chauncey and Mickey flipping out, and Aeryn running in like “Fire?! You wanna rumble with the bee? Huh? Buzz!” And then after she’d put out the fire she turn around and fuss at Chauncey for making out with Mickey in public. Then Chaunce and Mick would pop back into whatever pose I had them in, except they would stink. Like, every five minutes this would happen. Without fail. That, and Mickey bitching all over the couch because the only way I could get those dumbass poses out of her and Chauncey was to let him be molested by EVERY OTHER WOMAN ON THE LOT (about 4, except for Aeryn, because that would just be too complicated and she was already acting like Miss Prudie Pants). Chauncey, who has only one outgoing point and might as well have none, was afraid to even look at another person let alone make out with a woman, and I’m all like “CHAUNCEY! TAKE WHILE IT LASTS, YOU PANSY!” And now Mickey has all these bad memories about how Chauncey stinks and cheats on her while the house is on fire.

Gratuitous Chauncey and Mickey shot. I hate to love them.

And… end.

The Lie: Part III (B)>>