Bonnie Flint ran a hand through her fins tiredly, exhausted from a long day at work. Rubbing her neck, she closed the front door of Abigail’s house- their house, she reminded herself- behind her and dropped her bag on the floor.
“Abigail?” she shouted, already knowing she was probably in the den. Smiling and rolling her eyes, she started up the stairs, slithering down the hall and knocking on the door. “Hey, babe?” she called, leaning against the door. She never just went into the den like she did with the other rooms, respecting Abigail’s secret space. “I’m home. Make me dinner.”
Bonnie fussed with the buttons of her blazer for about the fourth time in the past minute, staring at herself in the bathroom mirror. She nervously adjusted her cuff links as well, just for good measure. Taking a deep breath, she stood tall and arched her back, putting on her coldly professional persona of Ms. Flint.
“I’m not nervous,” she said to herself, trying to rid the shakiness of her voice. “Of course not. I’m just as good of a monstress as she is, I just have to act like it. Hmph.”
Bonnie blinked awake, snuggled deeply against her lover. She smiled softly, but her expression soon soured at the sound of her phone going off. Huffing, she leaned over and answered it before it bothered the other.
“Hello?” she whispered. “Oh. Yes. I, uh. I don’t know, I’ll ask her. Okay. Alright. Goodbye.” Groaning, she slammed her phone shut and buried her face in the pillows.
Bonnie sat in her chair behind the control panel, watching with a bored look as her trainees shuffled out the door as quickly and gracefully as they scared.
Which was slow as a slug and clumsier than Ted.
Sighing, she grabbed her bag off the floor and retrieved her folder, cracking open the reports of each of the trainees. She quickly scrawled a few lines on some sticky notes- she could do the full report later- and started to pack up, making sure she took all of the paperwork home with her.
“Dean?” Usarryn stared calmly back at her, then at flint for a second, “You’ve got a bone to pick?”
“Uh, no, she was just leaving,” Bonnie hissed at the dean, hoping that she A) would get the hint and B) wouldn’t get too offended. The snake monstress was really putting her tail on the line here, but it was better than, at the very least, an very unpleasant conversation.
(For Evil Bonnie) "Come on my Darling Terror, you wouldn't hurt me would you?" She asked, slowly advancing the deranged monstress. "Let's just go home and I'll take care of you till you feel better okay?"
Bonnie frowned, staring at Abigail with wide eyes for a minute. Then she cracked a wicked smile, showing off her fangs.
“SSSSORRY, BABE, NO CAN DO! BESSSIDES, I WON’T HURT YOU. NO, NO, NO, HOW COULD I HURT MY PRECIOUSSSS BABYCLAWSSSS?”
Abigail gasped at the black bruises that adorned her lovers body. “Bloody hell Bonnie.” She whispered, “I’ll be right back, then I’m carrying you to the car.”
It only took a moment for Abigail to get the sweatshirt, working very carefully she helped Bonnie slide it on. Putting one arm under her back the other under her tail she nuzzled Bonnie. “I’m so sorry.” She whimpered again lifting her up, flinching slightly at her lover’s cry of pain.
“No,” Bonnie croaked. “It was my fault. It was so dumb! Why did I do that…” She grunted as pain shot through her. “I didn’t even feel this before. …Abigail, I think it’s my ribs.”
Everything hurt. Everything. She tried to assess her injuries, but so far couldn’t come up with much more than “everything is broken and I’m going to pass out from pure pain soon”.
Exhausted and breathing heavily, Bonnie slowly dragged herself up to their door, clawing at the doorknob. Luckily, it was unlocked, and the snake monstress slipped in with her treasure buried in her arms. Naunet trudged in behind her before curling up at the door, exhausted as well.
Violet blood dripped onto the stone of the entryway, heavy pants filling the air. She could hardly speak, she could hardly move. It took her everything not to pass out right then and there–but the kitten in her arms grounded her.
“Abigail,” she called out weakly, her voice hoarse.
Coiled up tightly in the corner of the bedroom, Bonnie held her face in her hands. Choked sobs escaped her as her shoulders and back heaved with every breath. When she heard the tap-tap of Abigail’s legs against the floor, she looked up helplessly. Silver eyes bloodshot and teary, she couldn’t even make a sound as she stared at her fiancée.
“Of course not, babyclaws. And anyway, if anything, you get prettier with age. And I’m gonna keep kissing your wrinkles and there isn’t anything you can do about it!” she preened, slopping a kiss on a wrinkle on Abigail’s cheek to prove her point.
Bonnie looked in the mirror for maybe the hundredth time today, adjusting and readjusting her white dress. Her fins and scales were brushed with makeup, highlighting the contrast of her coloring. Celia stood behind her, watching as Bonnie smoothed out her violet fins.
“You’re nervous,” she teased.
“No,” Bonnie protested, then paused. “Okay, a little. But I’ve never been married before, give me a break!”
“Just try to relax,” Celia laughed. “You planned out every little detail. It’s going to be fine.”
“You’re right. Has she walked down yet?”
“I think she’s just about to.”
“I can’t wait to see her. Do you have the bouquet?”
“For the last time, Bonnie, yes!”
Bonnie stood at the doorway, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “Well…let’s go.”