Warnings: This is girl!fic. Not genderswap, but 'has-always-been-a-girl' fic. This means there's f/f and m/f, no m/m anywhere in sight (in case that needs a warning :P).
Author's Note: So yeah, I kinda sorta fell in love with my girls and decided I needed to give Jo, Andie, Joan, Brenda and Spencer some more love. Sequel to The Only Boy in the Band.
She stubbed out her spliff and grinned widely, making gimme hands to Andie, who was rolling her eyes and grumbling, but also fishing for her wallet. "After all this time, you couldn't have held out a few more months? Seriously, I should have fought harder for the odd-numbered years."
"You're just jealous that I managed to get our gorgeous lead singer and you didn't!" Pete was looking completely unrepentent and rather smug, but Patricia was blushing even harder and slapped Pete on the back of his head. Hard. She did not, however, pull free from Pete's deathgrip on her hand. Jo was still giggling and using Andie's money to fan herself, and it was a while until Andie got her distracted bandmates to actually start practising. But for someone who'd just lost a whole wad of cash and was stuck in a room full of happy five-year-olds, she was smiling rather contentedly whenever her eyes fell on Pete and Patricia.
Two hours later, Marco, Jo's significant other since pretty much forever, appeared to pick her up for dinner ("Best lasagna ever, guys," Jo yelled as she jumped on Marco's back, her curls bouncing, "my man can cook!") and they gave up for the night. Pete wrapped himself around Patricia, in a hug that was different from before in a thousand little ways, and Patricia turned in his arms to kiss him quickly before finishing clearing away her guitar. For a moment Pete looked as if he could hardly believe his luck, then the smile on his face turned into a much more familiar smirk: "So you're the only single one left, girlfriend - when are you going to bring home a nice girl to mom and dad?"
Andie wasn't fazed at all: "Give up my freedom, submit to the double standards of society and live an unnatural life of forced monogamy? When you stop being an unbearable jackass, Pete Wentz. Or hell freezes over, whatever comes first." With that she made her way outside, throwing back over her shoulder: "I'm off to meet with Joan and Bren - they've invited me for a late-night swim in their bathtub... and your smartassery just cost you the video! Oh, and Patricia, honey, you know that you can always come to me if you get tired of the heteronormative lifestyle, right?"
Pete's jaw dropped as he spluttered indignantly, either from the mental image of the wet threesome Andie had just invoked or because she had implied that Patricia might get tired of Pete. But the description made Brenda squeal with glee and Joan chuckle when Andie regaled them with the latest developments in Fall Out as they were curled around each other in Joan and Brenda's massive hotel bed, recovering from their bathtub romp. Once Bren had stopped gushing over the fact that Pete and Patricia had "finally realized their One True Love", Andie then inquired about Spencer and Ryan. She did not use words like "One True Love", and definitely no capitalization, but that did not stop Brenda from launching into an enthusiastic report filled with so many exclamation marks and pointless meanderings Andie almost got dizzy. At this point Joan shut Bren up with a soft kiss and tender strokes along her sides, and Andie leaned over to thank her for that with a kiss which was much less gentle. Conversation pretty much stopped at this point.
However, the gist of Brenda's story was approximately this:
Apparently, Ryan and Spencer had spent many a lazy weekend as teenagers exploring the many fascinating differences between boys and girls when they weren't busy trying to get their band off the ground. They had never officially been a couple, however, and Ryan had regularly fallen in love with pretty scenequeens. Then Spencer had met Hal, and it had seemed as if they were back to simply being friends. If anything between Ryan and Spencer could ever be described as simple. Brenda was adamant that, even back then, there had never been anyone else for either one of them, not deep down. ("Totally born for each other, like Aladdin and Jasmine!" "Yes, Bren, we know.")
The fact that, at some point during the last year, Ryan had come to the same realization, was probably one of the worst-kept secrets in the incestuous circle of bands and band-related friends and family surrounding Pete Wentz. And then Spencer had broken up with Hal, and Bren and Joan had walked in on Ryan holding Spencer tightly in the backlounge of their tourbus. They had made a quick retreat ("You dragged me! It hurt!" "You were staring, Bren." "Well, they were so pretty, you can't blame a girl for looking....") and expected things to work out. Except, of course, they hadn't.
Ryan had walked around looking as if someone had set fire to his scarf collection, and Spencer had taken to going shopping with a vengeance, usually dragging Joan along, so Brenda was left trying to get Ryan to tell her what had gone wrong. But getting personal information out of an unwilling Ryan was something only Spencer was any good at, so Bren had settled for distracting him with a round or ten of Guitar Hero. ("I even let him win!" "Let him?" "Oh, shush, Joan!" "That was really big of you." "It was, wasn't it? Thanks, Andie." "You could show your gratitude later." "Oh, definitely, as soon as I finish the story!")
Joan, on the other hand, had seen more shoe stores from the inside than she ever cared to ("Well, not everyone has quite the same appreciation of flipflops that you do." "Sad but true.") and had not been any more successful in gathering information on why Spencer hardly looked at Ryan anymore. So Joan had pulled out the big guns and gotten Spencer drunk one night ("She almost drank me under the table, too!" "Oh yeah, I remember your hangover the next day... Not pretty."), which had almost backfired, as Spencer had tried to hook up with some random guy from their crew. Luckily she had passed out before anything happened, and Joan had gotten Zack to carry her back to the bus. She had heard Spencer mutter something about pity fucks, however, so the efforts and the hangover had not been completely wasted.
The next morning Joan had told Brenda, suggesting that they talk to Spencer when she was sober again, but Brenda had disagreed ("Because Spencer is stubborn, she'd never have listened, she'd just kept on believing that Ryan was only pitying her." "Yes, I remember the argument, Brenda darling. Do you remember that I agreed with you? Can we go on with the story now so we can go back to fucking Andie?" "Oh yes, please!") so they had told Ryan instead. Who had also not believed them at first ("Seriously, those two were made for each other!"), but had been worn down in the end and agreed to try again. ("No one can resist your pout, love..." "Or your face when you're being all reasonable." "Aww, the two of you are cute! Can I take you home with me?" "We might need to discuss that later, right, Bren?" "Yes. After the story.")
At that point Spencer had appeared, looking very out of sorts with the world in general and Joan in particular. Ryan had silently gotten up and made her a big cup of coffee, offering it to her without a word. This had made Spencer smile up at him from under her bangs, her whole face lighting up in gratitude, which had made Ryan blush and bite his lip nervously ("That was when you jammed your elbow into my ribs in your excitement!" "Aww, let me kiss it better?") and finally murmur something like "Always been my favorite." ("That still doesn't make sense to me." "It doesn't have to make sense to you, Bren - it had to make sense to Spencer." "Yes, but still..." "Just be glad that it worked.")
For some reason that had made Spencer blush as well. Then she'd looked at the peanut gallery consisting of their two other bandmates in a way that clearly stated she wanted them gone, a wish they had hastily complied with ("Because have you ever seen Spencer mad, Andie? Well, you don't want to. Ever!"), but not fast enough not to see her kiss Ryan. Deeply. With tongue. At which point Brenda and Joan had made sure not to come back to the bus until several hours later. And they had still managed to walk in on them stumbling out of the tiny little shower cubicle, Ryan struggling to hold them upright as Spencer had both legs wrapped around him.
("And it's been like that ever since. Non-stop. Every chance they get. My poor eyes!" "Yes, your poor eyes indeed - you're seriously straining them, peeking whenever you get the chance..." "Look who's talking! Are you seriously telling me that none of the times that you've fucked me after we caught them was not the tiniest bit inspired by Spencer's hips?" "Umm." "Yeah, that's what I thought, Joan Walker." "Guys? Can you stop bickering and get to the fucking? Because, no matter what you two say, I'm definitely going to picture those hips now... Anyone care to join me?")
Needless to say, storytime was over.
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