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A Date with Fate 
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New Cake sisters story! :D







A Date with Fate







“VanillawakeupwakeupVanillayougottawakeupohmygosh—”

Vanilla literally fell out of bed at Honey bursting into the door as if there was a fire in the house again.

“WARN a body before you’re gonna do that, Honey!” said Vanilla, feeling herself all over.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so EXCITED!!” said Honey, jumping up and down and shaking her fists. This always embarrassed Vanilla, even when there was no one else around to see it, and so Honey usually didn’t do it. There must have been a serious reason this time.

“What’s all the commotion?” said Vanilla.

“He’s coming…TO OUR NEIGHBORHOOD!!!”

Vanilla cocked an eyebrow. “‘He’ who?”

“‘“He” who’? Are you KIDDING me?” said Honey, seeming honestly surprised. “Spencer Gyro?”

Vanilla made a shrugging motion as if to say “No idea.”

“You know, Jenner from ‘Lost Dogs’? Come ON, Vanilla! I know it’s not your favorite TV show, but you’ve gotta know SOMETHING about it!”

Vanilla gave her sister that look—that condescending look. “Your demeanor is making me more relieved every second for the limitations of my knowledge.”

“Vanilla, it’s SPENCER GYRO! The ‘Clint Eastwood’ of canines! All the girl dogs love him!”

“What have I told you about using adynatons? I am a member of the category you described, and I don’t fit the description you made of that category.”

“Okay, so I exaggerated, can you blame me?” said Honey.

“How quickly one forgets with whom she is speaking,” said Vanilla, folding her arms.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that…it’s just—SPENCER GYRO IS COMING! HERE! TO OUR NEIGHBORHOOD!”

Vanilla dug her fingers into her ears. “I’m not holding auditions for a town crier, Honey.”

“Sorry…but you haven’t heard the best part!”

Vanilla rolled her eyes. “Be still, my heart.”

“He’s going to…going to….” Honey started to hyperventilate. Much as she wanted to say “I told you so”, Vanilla was honestly concerned for her sister’s health.

“Breathe,” said Vanilla.

Honey inhaled and exhaled, VERY audibly. It took a few minutes for her to calm down—though “calm down” was relative—enough to speak again.

“Spencer…Gyro…is going…to invite a lucky young lady on a DATE this Saturday! The works! AND…it’s all going to be on TV!!”

Vanilla’s expression did not change. “And the best part is?”

“Vanillaaaaaaa….” said Honey in a whining voice that was only partly in jest.

“Please don’t whine—my ears have already had a full assault without being kicked while they’re down.”

“I’m just so excited!” said Honey. “What if he chooses someone I know? Or—ORRRRR—or…what if—just possibly—he chose ME?”

“I hope he does choose you.”

“REALLY?” said Honey, her ears perking up in genuine surprise.

“Yes, then I’ll be spared one night of your adolescent gushing.”

“Oh, HOCKEY, you’re not going to rain on THIS parade, Vanilla!”

“Okay, I’m not trying to,” said Vanilla honestly. “But would the parade mind taking itself out of my room while I sweep up the confetti?”

Honey giggled. “Sure!”

Honey didn’t march out—she skipped, bouncing so high that one might have been forgiven for thinking she was on the moon.

Vanilla arranged her bedding, looking forward to when Spencer what’s-his-name would be out of town.



* * * * *



“No.”

“Come ON, Vanilla!” said Honey, who was being unusually PUSHY today, in the most literal sense possible—she was PUSHING her sister to the front door.

“Honey, don’t make me!”

“Rules are rules, Vanilla,” said Honey. “ALL eligible young female dogs have to go out into the crowd—besides, it’s an opportunity to be on TV!”

“I don’t care about being on TV, not for something like this—stop PUSHING me!—and besides, what if I got picked?”

“There’s a million bajillion girl dogs out there,” said Honey. “What are the odds of any one individual getting picked?”

“Yeah—I know—but SOMEONE has to get picked!”

“Don’t worry about it—with that hood he probably won’t even know you’re out there, especially if you don’t jump up and scream like all the others.”

Vanilla groaned loudly. She knew the odds were infinitesimal, and she clung to that hope. She was honestly more concerned about getting knocked down, stepped on, etc. by a bunch of squealing fangirls. In that milieu it would be difficult to even hear oneself think.

Vanilla took a DEEP breath as she got pushed into the shark-infested waters.

Immediately her ears were assaulted by constant screaming. She wondered how the Beatles didn’t go deaf—they were subjected to this every time they performed. She pulled her hood down over her ears, not wanting to remove her paws. She tensed up, every muscle in her body tightening—each step was like sloshing through mud, even though there was nothing but air preventing her from moving towards the tidal wave of the girl dogs jumping up and down and squealing.

Vanilla scarcely wanted to open her eyes, even though there was nothing to assault those. A limousine was driving slowly through the streets—the roads had been blocked off by the police for the occasion, and as many of the girl dogs as could make it were swarming the car. The star wasn’t inside the limo but standing on top of it.

There he was, Spencer Gyro. He was a golden retriever, whose fur was a nearly-perfect gradation of various shades of yellow. If Vanilla could have seen him she would have been sure he dyed it, natural though it looked. His eyes were a striking shade of blue, the shade that you couldn’t help staring at, especially contrasted with the rest of him. They were only visible because his sunglasses were low on his muzzle. He was also wearing a brown jacket—plain though it was on its own, on him it looked cool.

The girl dogs were jumping over each other, pushing each other down, etc. trying to get a better look at Spencer, most of them screaming “SPENCER, OVER HERE, PICK ME! PICK ME!” He was giving a very subtle smile to random girls who would swoon and faint just because he had smiled at them.

At first Spencer just stood with his paws in his pockets, as if from the neck down he were a statue. But then at one point he took his paws out. If it were possible, the girl dogs shrieked even louder, and Honey was among them. Vanilla thought she would go deaf. Cringing, she squatted down.

“HE’S GONNA PICK, HE’S GONNA PICK!” screamed Honey. “OHMYGOSH, HE’S GONNA PICK!”

Slowly, trying to avoid being seen—not that there was any real worry about that—Vanilla squatted down as low as she could go.

Vanilla was not the only one squatting—so was Spencer. Crouching, he reached into the open window of the limo, as someone passed him a bouquet of red roses, the thorns all carefully filed off. Immediately the girl dogs thrust their arms out, as if the bouquet were a magnet attracting their paws.

“OVER HERE, SPENCER, OVER HERE!” cried Honey.

Spencer looked around, teasing the girls with fake-out throws. After a few of these, he made the gesture again and this time he let go.

Vanilla had no idea how the girl dogs didn’t lose their voices—or a limb. They all scrambled for the bouquet which flew over their heads.

“OOF!”

“OHMYGOSH, ARE YOU OKAY?!”

Vanilla found herself knocked down on her back. She heard voices.

“All right, back off, back off, give her some space to breathe.”

“Is she okay?”

“Come on, people, move aside, give her some air.”

“Oh, look—look!”

Vanilla found herself facing some TV cameras and lights which blinded her. Squinting, she saw Honey and several others looking at her. Including Spencer what-was-his-name.

This was a nightmare. The only thing that would make it worse was—

—she felt something on her chest. At first she thought someone was playing a prank, as if they had been lilies instead of roses.

Roses.

“She’s the one! She’s going out with SPENCER GYRO!!!”

Vanilla fainted.

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Last edited by ChewyChewy on Fri Dec 23, 2011 12:20 am, edited 1 time in total.



Thu Dec 22, 2011 8:42 pm
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Post Re: A Date with Fate
Ultra-awesome! 8-)
This episode's gonna ROCK

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Thu Dec 22, 2011 11:57 pm
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Post Re: A Date with Fate
Thanks! :D Here's Chapter 2!







When Vanilla came to, the nightmare was not over.

“THERE we go!” said a loud voice she didn’t recognize. “Poor thing was overcome with excitement. And here she is, the lucky little lady who has won a date with Spencer Gyro this Saturday night, don’t miss the broadcast at 6:30! Here she is, Miss…what’s her name?”

Vanilla was in too much shock to even realize she was the one being addressed, much less answer the question. Besides, so many of the girl dogs were trying to be seen or heard by the cameras that it was hard to pick out what was real or not.

“Vanilla! Her name’s Vanilla Cake!” said Honey. “I’m her sister Honey! HI, DADDY, I’M ON TV! Ooh, is my headfur out of place?”

“Miss Vanilla Cake!” said the man with the microphone. “Come on, let’s get Spence in this shot—c’mon over here, Spence!”

Without changing his expression, Spencer stepped into view of the camera and flashed a PR smile, placing his face close to Vanilla’s so that both would be in the shot.

“Spencer Gyro and his date, folks! Oh, look at that, she’s shy!”

Vanilla, having turned red, pulled her hood over her face.

“Oh, it’s okay, miss, no need to be shy. Spencer’s a gentleman—you have nothing to fear from him.”

Vanilla didn’t respond.

“Come on, let’s remove that hood so we can see her face.”

Vanilla clutched at her hood, but they managed—without yanking, they were very gentle—to remove it. Her headfur was a mess.

“Ooh, uh, just a second, if I may take the liberty, miss—”

“Allow me,” said Spencer, and his voice (which had a light Greek accent to it) caused most of the girl dogs to squeal with excitement. He licked his paw and gently slicked Vanilla’s headfur down. She cringed with embarrassment and discomfort at his touch.

“Now THERE’S Vanilla Cake!” said the man. “So, Miss Cake, any words about your being chosen, or your impending date with Spencer Gyro?”

The microphone was placed to Vanilla’s mouth. Spencer looked at Vanilla and gave her the same subtle smile he had given before. It did not have the same effect.

Vanilla trembled, her head sinking between her shoulders. “A-Anyone else want a turn?”

That got laughs, which failed to relax Vanilla.

“Well, she has a sense of humor, Spence! You can look forward to some laughs on your date!”

Spencer nodded, still smiling. He did not laugh.

“Again, that date is at 6:30 pm this Saturday night! Don’t miss it!”

“I won’t,” said Spencer, and everyone laughed.

“Neither will I! Imagine, SPENCER GYRO IS DATING MY SISTER!!!”



* * * * *


“I don’t suppose there’s any way to get out of this, is there?” said Vanilla after almost an hour of silence.

“No, Vanilla, they’ve cleared the TV time slot already,” said Honey, trembling with excitement.

Vanilla sighed. “So be it, then. Just one night, no more than that.”

“Wow, you’re taking this really well, Vanilla.”

Vanilla rolled her eyes. “It’s not like it’s a real date anyway.”

“What are you TALKING about, not a real date?!” said Honey, doing her best to suppress her excitement.

“It’s all superficial and shallow,” she said. “It’s going to be on TELEVISION, for goodness’s sake. It’s going to be a performance, no different from one of our role-playing games, only with an audience.”

“Oh, VANILLA!!” said Honey. She knew, although in her excitement she found it difficult to really dwell on it, that this was the only way for Vanilla to cope with such a thing, and she didn’t want to ruin it.

“In fact, since the only dresses I have are those I use for role-playing, I can wear one of those to this thing.”

“What about the one you wear for the Christmas photo?”

Vanilla bit her lip. “Hardly appropriate for a date that’s going to be on television. Besides, it’s uncomfortable.”

“Just saying, you don’t role-play with that one.”

“As I said, it’s uncomfortable.”

“Ooooooh, Vanilla, I don’t know if I could be any more excited if it had been ME he picked! Can I help you pick out your dress? I wanna be involved somehow!”

Vanilla shrugged. “If you want.”

“Okay, let’s see what there is!”

“I know what there is, I only have three dresses.”

Honey smirked. “Let’s SEE what there is,” she said emphatically. “What fun is it if we don’t look through them?”

Vanilla sighed. “Let’s just get this overwith,” she said, making a shooing motion with her paw.

Honey opened the chest where they kept the role-playing costumes. There were indeed three dresses in Vanilla’s size: the royal gown, the babydoll dress, and the cocktail dress. Vanilla reused them for different roles—when her jacket didn’t suit the occasion.

“No-brainer,” said Vanilla. “The cocktail dress.”

“Vanilla! Quit trying to suck all the FUN out of this!”

Vanilla groaned, gnashing her teeth. She didn’t see what was so fun about it.

“Now THIS little number is fancy, to be sure,” said Honey as though she were a fashion designer, indicating the royal gown, “but this would be just a bit TOO fancy for the occasion. A lady must be modest, mustn’t she?”

Vanilla made a revolving motion with her finger, as though ordering a conductor to pick up the tempo.

Ignoring her sister, Honey said, “And THIS design, while cute, is simply too childlike. We mustn’t look like a child on a date, don’t you agree? We must look our age, mustn’t we?”

“So we’re in agreement—the cocktail dress.”

Honey made a shooing motion with her paw. Vanilla stamped her feet impatiently.

“Now, THIS looks très chic! Fancy but not TOO fancy, and certainly not childish. Tasteful, elegant, the perfect garment for a date with SPENCER GYRO!!!”

“I liked you better as the fashion designer,” said Vanilla.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, I’m so EXCITED!!!”

Vanilla took the dress. “So we’re in agreement. This one.”

“Yes, we’re in agreement, that one,” said Honey in a gently mocking tone.

Vanilla took it out of her room. It needed ironing before Saturday.

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Fri Dec 23, 2011 1:37 am
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Post Re: A Date with Fate
I love the fact that Honey gets to be all excited even if she wasn't picked up! :lol:
And now I can't help imagining Spencer's name pronounced a-la-francais: Gee-rò! 8-)
LOL, Vanilla would need Peanut's help to get all prepped up for DA DATE!

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Fri Dec 23, 2011 1:54 am
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Post Re: A Date with Fate
gotta say, it was obvious who'd get the date. I look forward to the rest of this.

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Fri Dec 23, 2011 4:58 am
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Post Re: A Date with Fate
Wait no more! :D Here's Chapter 3!







When Vanilla came in with the newspaper, she was wet, and there was snow still clinging to her.

“Here’s the newspaper,” she said to her dad as she handed it to him, then immediately she turned on a dime and walked away before he could get a word in edgewise—not that he would have tried.

She tried to make it to her room before Honey could see her, but no such luck.

“Oh, no, not AGAIN?” said Honey.

“Again,” said Vanilla in a perturbed voice that was trying to sound like she thought of Honey as riffraff, only worth wasting one word on at maximum.

“Vanilla, stop, stop, wait a minute—OUCH!!!”

Vanilla cringed. She had tried to slam the door in Honey’s face, but Honey had managed to get her foot into the door first, and the door had crushed Honey’s foot.

Vanilla wanted to say she was sorry, but even more than that she didn’t want to talk to Honey at all. She was mad at her, and she didn’t want to say something she didn’t mean in the heat of anger.

Honey took advantage of her greater strength and pushed the door open, forcing herself into Vanilla’s room.

“Why do you DO that?!” snapped Vanilla. “Why do you ALWAYS do that?!”

“What do you mean?” said Honey, still more concerned about Vanilla’s feelings than about the pain her foot was still in—she could wiggle her toes, so she knew nothing was broken. There wasn’t even any bleeding, not even chafed fur, not really—it was just rubbed the wrong way a little.

“Why do you PUSH?!?”

“Well, you were gonna close the door on me!”

“So what if I WAS?” snapped Vanilla. “It’s my room, not yours! Why do you always PUSH?!”

“Vanilla, I did it ONCE!”

“NO!!” said Vanilla in a voice so loud that it even scared her. She gasped and covered her mouth. “No, you did it before—I TOLD you I didn’t want to go out to where that crowd of hormone-ridden fangirls were, but you PUSHED me! And now I can’t get out of this!”

Honey took a deep breath, but said nothing. “Don’t take it personally, Vanilla—at least those other girls are only throwing snowballs at you, nothing worse. They’re just jealous, is all—they’ll get over it. After your date—”

“After the quote-unquote ‘date’, they’ll be hounding our house trying to rip my fur off my body for souvenirs!” said Vanilla.

“You know Dad won’t let that happen, Vanilla—his gun will scare them off.”

“KIBBLE!!!” Vanilla cringed and covered her mouth again.

“Vanilla, why are you so mad?”

“Because you’re so SELFISH!!” snapped Vanilla. Even now she was regretting that one, but she didn’t want to apologize, not now—she was too angry. “If you hadn’t pushed me out there, it would have been YOU who’d have been chosen! And while I wouldn’t wish this fate on my worst enemy, at least then it would have been someone who WANTED to go! You KNEW I didn’t want to go, why did you PUSH me! Why do you PUSH?!?”

Not waiting for an answer, she flumped onto her bed, and while Honey couldn’t hear anything, she recognized that irregular rise and fall of her sister’s back—Vanilla was crying.

Honey reached her paw out, silently, then took it back. She couldn’t comfort her sister, not now. Honey needed to go to her own room for some solitary thinking.



* * * * *



Honey tried to think this over. Why HAD she pushed Vanilla out the door? Vanilla had been right—if Vanilla hadn’t been out there, Honey could very well have been the one who was picked to go on the date with Spencer Gyro. And it was true that Honey would have appreciated it a lot more than Vanilla was—a LOT more. And Honey KNEW that. Why HAD she deliberately sabotaged her own chances for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?

Worst of all, Honey was now beginning to become aware of certain feelings. They upset her badly, and she found herself glad that she was not in the same room as Vanilla now. Honey knew what the feelings were—she was jealous. She was jealous of the fact that Vanilla, who didn’t even WANT to go on the date, was picked instead of her, who did. Of the fact that the one who was picked was the one girl who DIDN’T want to go.

But it wasn’t Vanilla she resented. The very fact that she knew that Vanilla didn’t want to go prevented her from resenting Vanilla. It was Spencer’s fault—his choice was completely arbitrary. He could have chosen someone who wanted to go, but he didn’t make a choice at all, he just threw that bouquet.

No. That was a lie, and Honey knew it. It was HER fault—no one had told her to push Vanilla out there. If she hadn’t, this wouldn’t have happened. It was all her own fault—her fault that she didn’t get to go on a date with Spencer Gyro, her fault that the one who WAS going was Vanilla, who didn’t WANT to go, her fault the other girls were jealous of Vanilla and throwing snowballs at her, her fault Vanilla was mad at her.

It was all her fault.

So why was she resentful of Vanilla?

Because she was. Why? It wasn’t Vanilla’s fault—the only thing Vanilla had done was stand in the wrong spot, but she wouldn’t have been there if Honey hadn’t pushed her outside in the first place. Vanilla was not at fault for anything—not a single thing.

So why was Honey still feeling resentful of her? It didn’t make any sense. SHE was the one who had pushed Vanilla out the door—why HAD she done that? Why had she pushed Vanilla out the door, and why was she resentful of Vanilla now for something that she herself had done?

She pondered this for about half an hour before the proverbial light bulb went on over her head.

She’d gotten it backwards. Completely.

It wasn’t that she had pushed Vanilla out the door—WHY?—and she was now resentful of Vanilla—WHY? It was entirely the other way around.

Honey had been resentful of Vanilla FIRST, and THEN she had pushed Vanilla out the door. THAT was the answer to one of her questions—that was WHY she had pushed Vanilla out the door. Because of her resentment—there was no other explanation. Honey knew Vanilla too well and cared about her too much to push her out the door for any other reason.

So, if it wasn’t because Vanilla had been chosen that Honey resented her, but Honey had resented Vanilla BEFORE she pushed her out the door, what WAS it that had made Honey resent her? She ran the conversation through her mind.

The minutes seemed like hours before she finally figured it out.

She hung her head. She knew she was intelligent—not as intelligent as Vanilla, but above average intelligence at least—but now she felt like the biggest idiot in dogdom.



* * * * *



Vanilla had stopped crying, and had nearly forgotten why she’d started in the first place, when she heard a soft knocking at the door.

“Vanilla…it’s me.”

Vanilla sighed, and came to the door. “I’m sorry I snapped, I didn’t mean what I—”

She opened the door to Honey putting a paw up for silence.

“Don’t apologize for anything, Vanilla,” said Honey, hanging her head in shame as though approaching her dad to be punished. “It was all my fault—ALL of it, every bit.”

“I know, Honey, but I forgive you—”

Honey put her paw up again, just mildly irritating Vanilla.

“I don’t mean for pushing you out the door, or even for pushing my way into your room earlier. I mean for WHY I pushed you out the door.”

Vanilla cocked her head in confusion.

Honey let out a long, deep sigh. “Remember how excited I was about Spencer Gyro picking someone to go on a date with?”

Vanilla sighed, gritting her teeth. “You won’t let me forget that, will you?”

“No, just—please let me speak. Your reaction…well…it upset me. A lot.”

Vanilla raised her eyebrows. “I thought you weren’t going to let me rain on your parade?”

Honey sighed. “I WANTED to ignore what you’d said, but…I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and…it just upset me.”

Vanilla shifted her weight from one foot to another, putting her paws in her pockets, and averting her eyes. “Because I didn’t share your enthusiasm—that hurt you?”

“No.”

Vanilla perked her ears up. “But you said—”

“I said your reaction UPSET me, not that it HURT me. It just…it made me think about how you’re always so…sullen…all the time. You don’t smile much.”

Vanilla cocked her head. “I’m happy sometimes, I just have my own way of showing it.”

“I know, but you’re also upset a lot more often than I am.”

Vanilla didn’t say anything.

Honey sighed. “I guess I just thought…maybe…if you saw how excited everyone was, and…how hunky Spencer Gyro is…maybe you might understand, and maybe have some fun for once…. I should have known better—not everyone enjoys the same things.”

Vanilla still said nothing.

“And…I was selfish to be glad that you had won the date, if it couldn’t be me. I just…was so excited to be the sister of Spencer Gyro’s date. But I should have been thinking of you, and I’m sorry.”

Vanilla sighed. “If certain things make you happy, there’s nothing I can do about it. And…while they’re not the same things that would make me happy, I…would rather you be happy than not happy. If it makes you happy to see me go on this date, I intend to go. I’ll wave to you on TV.”

“No, Vanilla, you don’t have to do that for me. You won’t enjoy it, and I don’t want YOU to be unhappy.”

Vanilla folded her arms, a serious look on her face. “Let’s be realistic: the only way for both of us to be completely happy is if YOU go on the date instead of me, and there’s no way of accomplishing that. I was picked—I didn’t want to be, but I was. And my going on the date will make you happy, so I’m going. Finito.”

“But…then how will YOU be happy?”

Vanilla shook her head, sighing. “You think that your happiness doesn’t make me happy?”

Honey stared. Was Vanilla condescending to her? It didn’t sound like it.

“Besides, you know I love a good role-playing game, and Spencer Gyro is an actor, is he not?”

Honey couldn’t help a smile at that.

“How’s your dress? All ironed and ready for your big date?”

Vanilla nodded. Then she had an awkward askance look on her face. “If…if you want to help me…get ready…you may.”

Honey began to tremble with excitement again. “Just try and STOP me, sister!”

Vanilla couldn’t help cringing, but she made herself smile. She was glad to see her sister happy.

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Mon Dec 26, 2011 9:07 pm
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Post Re: A Date with Fate
D'aww! This was so sweet! it was time those two sorted things out.
Can't wait to see how Vanilla will outsmart Spencers!

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Post Re: A Date with Fate
Thanks! :D But what do you mean, "outsmart Spencers"? :?

Anyway, here's Chapter 4!







It was Saturday, and Honey was getting her sister ready for her big date with Spencer Gyro. Vanilla had just had a bath, and was now wearing her cocktail dress, which was a deep red hue, and had a rose-shaped corsage over her right shoulder. She was also wearing a necklace with a small teardrop pendant. Honey held out her paws as if they were a frame.

“You were right,” said Honey. “That is the PERFECT dress for this date.”

“I told you,” said Vanilla.

Honey snapped her fingers. “Brush.”

Vanilla winced as Honey went to get a hairbrush. Once the brush had been acquired, Honey tried to be as gentle as she could in brushing her sister’s fur—on her tail, her arms, and her head. Only two real instances of Vanilla feeling a tug at her fur that resulted in any kind of soreness.

“Very lovely,” said Honey, standing back to admire her work.

Vanilla resisted the urge to tap her foot in impatience.

“Not forgetting your headfur.”

Vanilla bit her lip as Honey went to get a comb. She returned and gently began to comb her sister’s rather short headfur. For once Vanilla was not wearing her hooded jacket, but she absent-mindedly made a hand motion as though pulling it over her face. Honey combed what would have been the equivalent of bangs on a human forward, then just to the left side, so that it didn’t cover anything.

“Nice hairstyle,” said Honey. “But it’s missing something….”

Vanilla sighed as Honey went to the chest where their role-playing costumes were, and found it. It was a red hair comb, shaped not unlike a rose, with a dark gem in the middle, almost black.

“Hold still….”

Vanilla shut her eyes tightly and gritted her teeth, as Honey carefully arranged the comb into the back part of Vanilla’s headfur, trying to make sure it stayed in place and didn’t fall out, but also that it was perfectly symmetrical, and that it would not yank on Vanilla’s scalp and hurt her head. It took several minutes before Honey was satisfied.

“You through?”

“Just about,” said Honey, backing off to look at Vanilla overall. “Hold your arms out.”

Vanilla sighed, then complied.

“Now smile.”

Vanilla made a sincere attempt. She tried to pretend she was a famous movie actress flashing a P. R. smile.

“Not BAD!” said Honey, grinning excitedly. “I don’t suppose you want to wear any earrings?”

“No thank you,” said Vanilla in no uncertain terms. “Don’t want to lose anything there—this comb is risky enough.”

“Then I think there’s just ONE finishing touch left.”

Vanilla groaned. “Could we move this along, please?”

“Just a sec!”

Honey took out a very small comb—it was really a mustache comb that their dad never used because he didn’t wear a mustache.

“Close your eyes.”

Vanilla shut her eyes so tightly that Honey giggled.

“Not THAT tight.”

Vanilla tried to loosen her eyes without opening them, but it wasn’t easy.

Honey took the mustache comb and, trying to be as gentle and delicate as she possibly could, curled out Vanilla’s eyelashes. Standing back, Honey put her paws out like a frame again.

“PERFECT!”

“We’re glad you approve,” said Vanilla.

“Come on, this can be fun if you let it,” said Honey. “Like one of our role-playing games.”

“Really, dahling, one mustn’t be childish about such things,” said Vanilla in an affected tone.

Honey would have done a spit take if she had been drinking any water. “You’re not gonna talk like THAT, are you?”

“Whatever works, dahling,” said Vanilla.

Honey stuck her tongue out. “Well, anyway, I do hope you enjoy your date.”

Vanilla looked at herself in the mirror, holding her arms out, and turning around. She did not appear to have any inordinate complaints about her appearance.



* * * * *



“Well, here we are, at the very home of Miss Vanilla Cake!” said a voice. No one had even knocked on the door yet. “That’s right, THE Vanilla Cake, who was chosen by none other than Spencer Gyro for this televised date! Hope she’s in!”

The noises died down—somewhat—before there was a knock at the door.

“We got it, Dad!” said Honey, hoping that he would not embarrass them on TV. He had been told, but he didn’t always retain what they told him. Mr. Cake would be glad to be relieved from having to open the door anyway.

Vanilla stayed hidden from view so she could make a proper entrance, while Honey opened the door. It was all she could do not to squeal with excitement at being just a yard away from Spencer Gyro again.

“Hi, Vanilla’s almost ready! I’m her sister Honey—I helped her get ready for this date!”

She took a bow, then waved at the camera as if she had someone to wave to.

Then she imitated a trumpet fanfare: “Da da da DAHHHH…. Preeeee-zenting…Vanilla Cake!”

Vanilla didn’t appreciate the intro—how could she or anyone else hope to live up to expectations with that kind of thing? But she stood up straight, gently took hold of her skirt, extending her pinky as she did so, and stepped forward.

“And HERE she is, Miss Vanilla Cake herself!”

The only way Vanilla found herself able to cope with the humiliation was to stay in character. She curtsied, and Spencer, seeing this, bowed to her. Spencer was wearing a tailored suit, dog-sized, all black, and a blue striped ascot. His headfur was impeccably combed, and he was holding a white wrist corsage in his paw.

“Come on, let’s get a shot of this,” said the host as Spencer got down on one knee. This made Vanilla sweat profusely, as that was the usual position for a marriage proposal—she knew he had no such designs in mind but he could not have intimidated her any more if his next words had actually BEEN “Will you marry me?”

But rather than say any such thing, he gently took her paw and placed the white flowery corsage onto Vanilla’s left wrist.

“A splash of white in a sea of red,” said Spencer in his soft voice with the Greek accent. Honey swooned.

Vanilla bit her lip, then cleared her throat. “Thank you, my good fellow.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Vanilla resisted the urge to make a witty remark there, but put on her P. R. smile.

“Mademoiselle, your chariot awaits,” said Spencer, pointing to the limousine.

“Whoa, a REAL LIMO!!!” cried Honey, jumping up and down.

Vanilla became nervous. It was rare that she even rode in the family car—just to the vet and such. This would be very expensive. She didn’t quite feel equal to it, but she knew she was going to go through with it—for Honey’s sake, anyway.

“Bye, Vanilla! I’ll watch you on TV!”

When they were halfway to the limo, Vanilla had to ask the question on her mind.

“Is this entire…date…going to be on TV?”

Spencer nodded. “They don’t follow you into the bathroom, though.”

Well, that was something.

“Lead on, good sir,” said Vanilla in an affected tone.

Spencer noted the tone, but did not react with any apparent expression. He led her on his arm, then the chauffeur opened the rear door on the passenger’s side. He proceeded to help her into the car, which made Vanilla feel awkward and embarrassed—but she said nothing.

“Driver, to ‘A Taste of Greece’,” said Spencer. He seemed to be a man of as few words as Mr, Cake, though not quite the same personality at all.

“Yes sir, Mr. Gyro!”

Vanilla looked out the window at Honey, who was still waving. She hoped this would not be the worst night of her whole life.

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Tue Dec 27, 2011 4:30 pm
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Post Re: A Date with Fate
the preparation was a riot!
the date's off for a great start! Can't wait to see Vanilla's reaction to typical Greek cuisine...

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Post Re: A Date with Fate
Forgot Vanilla didn't sport the usual long eyelashes. Her attempt with Yogurt didn't go well so I wish for her well-being unless there's more to this Spencer pers-er dog. :)

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Post Re: A Date with Fate
My prediction: they end up getting away from the cameras and it turns out that Spencer is putting on an act as much as Vanilla is. they end up actually talking and Vanilla grows to like the real him. But they can't be together, because he has to maintain his usual facade at all times.

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Wed Dec 28, 2011 10:35 pm
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Post Re: A Date with Fate
@valerio: What do you mean?

@kavviyenta: Right. Well, you'll see....

@Brent: Do you mind? I write alone. :P That's unless I'm writing together. :roll:

Here's Chapter 5 (finally)!







For the benefit of the camera—as there was a cameraman in the front passenger seat—Spencer held Vanilla’s paw. This made her feel uncomfortable, but she told herself that it was just for the camera—besides which it could have been worse.

Vanilla tried to just enjoy the fact that she was riding in a limousine, but it wasn’t easy. She still felt like she didn’t really deserve to be in it. At any rate, eventually they came to “A Taste of Greece.” It didn’t exactly sound like anything fancy, and so she hoped she wasn’t overdressed.

Spencer helped Vanilla out the door as the chauffeur went to park the limousine, then offered her his arm. Vanilla gritted her teeth but kept her lips shut so this wouldn’t be seen. Nervously she took hold of the crook of Spencer’s elbow, trying to stay in character for the cameras.

The whole thing seemed unreal to Vanilla, like a dream. In a way that helped to set her at her ease. “Table for two, please,” said Spencer in his breathy whisper with the Greek accent.

“Yes sir, Mr. Gyro,” said the manager, personally showing them to the reserved table in the pets’ section. It was far away from the other tables, which was a necessity since everyone was trying to get as close as they could—and Vanilla was glad for it being more remote. Even the camera crew was too little privacy as it was.

“Your menus,” said the manager.

Spencer turned to Vanilla and gave his subtle smile, the one that seemed to work on every female dog except her. “Order whatever you’d like—the meal is on me.”

Vanilla resisted the urge to make a joke on that, the meal being “on” Spencer, and looked at the menu. After giving it the once over she said, “I believe I will start with the horiatiki salad, then move on to the moussaka, and for dessert I will have the baklava.”

“Sounds good—make it two,” said Spencer.

“Right away, Mr. Gyro!” said the manager, as though he were expecting this particular order.

“All right, you two lovebirds, make with the yakkity-yak-yak,” said the cameraman.

Vanilla shuddered. “Yakkity-yak-yak.” She supposed she would have to begin, since Spencer seemed to be a dog of few words. Sighing, she tried to think of some kind of conversation topic—it was difficult without Honey around.

“So…do you come here often?” She cringed at how unoriginal that was, but at least it was something.

Spencer shrugged. “Depends on what you mean by ‘often.’”

Well, that was an original response, anyway. “Well, what do YOU mean?”

Spencer shrugged. “I come to each restaurant roughly equally often, so there’s no majority.”

“I see,” said Vanilla. Maybe this would prove more fruitful than she thought. “So…Plato or Aristotle?”

Spencer’s ears perked up. “What did you say?”

“Do you subscribe to Plato’s theory of forms or do you agree with Aristotle that empirical concerns hold greater weight?”

“Uh, cut,” said the director. “Uh, Miss Cake, do you think you could lay off the philosophy? That’s kind of highbrow for our target audience.”

“No, I’ll answer,” said Spencer. “Never wrong to expand the mind, is it?”

The cameraman shrugged. “All right.”

The camera rolled again. Spencer cleared his throat.

“Your question was whether I subscribe to Plato’s theory of forms or whether I ascribe greater weight to empirical concerns as Aristotle did, correct?”

Vanilla nodded. “That’s the question.”

“If I’m not mistaken, Plato’s dialogue ‘Parmenides’ used the Socratic method to point out the flaws in Plato’s theory of forms.”

“So you don’t subscribe to them, then?”

“Just a moment. Aristotle developed hylomorphism, and I think he had a point.”

Vanilla tried to stifle her smile. “Why don’t you tell the viewing audience what that is?”

Spencer looked at his placemat. “They don’t want to hear me explain that.”

“I think you underestimate your fans—if you say it, I think they’ll listen, whatever it is.”

Spencer shrugged. “Very well. Hylomorphism is the idea that a substance is a form inherent in matter. Clay, for example, is matter—but the shape into which you mold it is its form. The matter is potential—it can be molded into any form—but the form is its realization in actuality.”

Vanilla smiled. Maybe this date wouldn’t be so bad after all. Not that she wanted to make a habit of it.



* * * * *



The salads came, and Spencer and Vanilla ate daintily. On the suggestion of the camera crew, they stuck their forks in each other’s salads, then linked arms and fed each other. Vanilla thought this was embarrassing but did her best to stay in character. Besides, it could be worse.

Honey was at home, watching the whole thing on TV. She giggled at this, though she hoped that Vanilla was okay. She had heard the earlier discussion on Plato and Aristotle and was surprised that Spencer Gyro knew so much about it—just one more reason to LOVE him!

At length the salads were gone and the main course came: the moussaka.

“Ever had moussaka before?” asked Spencer.

Vanilla shook her head. “First time,” she said in her affected voice. It was her first time, as she usually only ate dog food. She didn’t even usually get leftovers, not quite feeling worthy of them. She felt that way a bit even now, with everyone watching, so she decided that her “character”, “Vanille”, was used to eating human food, just not this particular dish.

She tried some of the moussaka, and WOW, so many flavors! She didn’t even really have a point of reference to describe it! But she managed to keep a straight face for the cameras. She loved it, but…she didn’t WANT to love it.

Spencer was eating his moussaka and not changing his expression. He looked like he’d eaten it every day for his entire life. If he was acting, he was an even better actor than Vanilla gave him credit for. At least they weren’t eating spaghetti—she didn’t want the camera crew getting ideas.

They were about halfway through the meal when Spencer wiped his mouth and said, “Beg pardon, nature calls.”

Vanilla’s ears tried to jump off her head. Now she was VERY glad she hadn’t worn earrings.

“All right, Spence,” said the cameraman. “We’ll just get the first word on you from your date here, wink wink nudge nudge.”

Vanilla cringed. How could he be leaving her there with these people?

“Talk me up,” said Spencer in a voice suggesting he didn’t much care either way. He went to the restroom, and Vanilla was alone. They didn’t say “cut”. They were still recording. She supposed she should have expected that, since this was LIVE.

Live…. That hadn’t quite occurred to her before—she KNEW it was, but now she felt like millions of fangirls were staring at her, either excited and trying to live vicariously through her, or seething with jealousy that she was picked instead of one of them.

Honey, watching at home, was worried.

“So, Miss Cake, what do you think? How is Spencer Gyro on a date?”

Vanilla tried to flash her PR grin again, but it came across looking more embarrassed than anything. She didn’t respond, but only shrugged.

“You’ve had better dates, you mean?”

Vanilla didn’t know if this guy was teasing her but either way she didn’t appreciate it.

“I…really don’t see that that’s any of your business,” said Vanilla in her affected voice.

The cameraman chuckled. “I see—well, we’re primarily interested to know what you think of your date with Spencer Gyro.”

The microphone was placed in front of Vanilla. A hunk of moussaka felt like it had gotten caught in her throat.

“Well…he’s surprisingly intelligent….”

“Beauty AND brains, that’s Spencer. What else?”

“Er…he has good taste in food.”

“Heh, and girls too, for that matter.”

Vanilla turned a shade of red that matched her dress. “N-Now, that’s not fair. I was chosen at random. If it wasn’t me it would have been anyone else.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly hear him choose someone else when he found out it was you, did you?”

Vanilla wished she were wearing her usual jacket, so she could pull her hood over her face. She didn’t care if it messed up her headfur. She REALLY hoped this guy wasn’t insinuating anything.

“Well…it’s looks that count, right?” said Vanilla, trying to hide the sarcasm in her voice and apparently succeeding.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well…I didn’t know Mr. Gyro until I was picked, and he didn’t know me either. If he didn’t choose anyone else, he was going entirely based on looks—either that or a strong sense of stick-to-it-iveness.”

The cameraman chuckled at her fictitious word. “How do you know it wasn’t both?”

Vanilla cringed. She didn’t want to do this anymore. She was finding it hard to stay in character without Spencer.

“Beg pardon, nature calls,” said Vanilla, imitating Spencer’s voice.

“At the same time?” said the cameraman, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

Get that idea out of your head, Vanilla thought at the man—or rather, YELLED in her thoughts. “If you’ll pardon me for one moment.”

Vanilla excused herself and went to the bathroom.

“Well, we’ll give the lovebirds some privacy for now, and give a little commentary on the date so far.”



* * * * *



Vanilla didn’t actually have to go to the bathroom. She waited outside the doors, occasionally glancing askance at the door to the gentlemen’s room. She didn’t want anyone seeing her looking at it—they might get ideas.

“I’m doing this for Honey, I’m doing this for Honey….”

“The baklava doesn’t come until we finish the main course.”

Vanilla nearly jumped out of her skin. “How did you—?!?”

“When you’ve been in the business as long as I have….” said Spencer, pausing for emphasis, “…you learn a few tricks.”

Vanilla glared. “You left me holding the bag.”

Spencer didn’t change his countenance much but it seemed to suggest a quizzical expression.

“YOU are the actor here, not me. How am I supposed to keep your camera crew entertained all by myself?”

Spencer honestly looked confused.

“I did have to go to the bathroom.”

“No excuses—you could have asked me to join you.”

Vanilla shuddered.

“Forget I said that.”

Spencer folded his arms. “Somehow I get the feeling you’re not enjoying yourself much.”

Vanilla looked embarrassed. “I’m not trying to be ungrateful. The atmosphere would be nice if not for all the cameras in my face, the food is…delicious, and…and I didn’t expect an intellectual conversation from this date.”

Spencer had a knowing expression on his face. “You’re acting differently now than you did before the cameras. Are you sure you have no acting experience?”

Vanilla shifted her weight from one foot to another. “Not before cameras.”

“Same principle as without cameras, which is why you stay in character—otherwise you remember that the whole world can see you, and you panic, and can’t talk or think—”

“STOP it!”

Vanilla thought again.

“Wait…you have that problem too?”

Spencer shrugged. “Used to. Still do to a degree but I’ve mostly gotten over it.”

“…I see.”

“Shall we return to the table?”

Vanilla wanted this to be over quickly, so she nodded. “Not together.”

Spencer nodded, and went back to the table himself. Vanilla waited several minutes before she followed.

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Sun Jan 01, 2012 9:39 pm
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Post Re: A Date with Fate
Daww, poor Vanilla!
But of course this date is going awesome despite the clumsy moments. OK, I still have this lingering fear that Vanilla will end up cursing like an old sailor in front of the cameras, but mostly I just hope it will go all right.

Spaghetti reference, eh... :lol:

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Post Re: A Date with Fate
Oh, hockey, Vanilla doesn't curse like an old sailor! :P

Well, here's the last chapter! :D







Spencer and Vanilla finished their moussaka and were about ready for their baklava. Vanilla had had to use the napkin a lot, but this was especially the case for the baklava. The honey and crumbs stuck to her muzzle. Somehow Spencer didn’t seem to have that problem, and she didn’t understand what the heck his secret was. She didn’t bother to ask, though. She decided to save the rest so that people wouldn’t see her embarrass herself on camera.

Mostly, Vanilla was thinking about what Spencer had said. She began to wonder if perhaps he had not been much different from herself once. He had said that he used to be afraid of the cameras, and now it seemed as though his on-screen persona was as fake as her own. And his on-screen persona seemed like the kind of persona that someone like Vanilla might have had, if she had been unfortunate enough to become a TV actress, a teen celebrity heartthrob sort—although she wondered to what extent that would be popular with males, not that that was a bad thing. The last thing she wanted was drooling fanboys unable to leave her alone, besides which if she DIDN’T have a persona that was appealing to them she probably wouldn’t get much work anyway.

Vanilla found herself being of two minds about Spencer. On the one hand, she very much resented him for being able to handle this situation so much better than she could—she didn’t know if it would be possible, or what his secret was, and she didn’t want to ask. He would just think she was another annoying fangirl and probably treat her the same, and anyway, how could she even talk to him in private at all? Besides, she didn’t even know if it would work with her.

On the other hand, she found herself PITYING Spencer. She remembered how awful her own experience had been in that sea of fangirls, but it had not even occurred to her until now to think of how HE might have felt. She imagined herself on top of that limousine and it almost made her actual situation endurable. Almost.

Before Vanilla knew it, the check came. Spencer paid for it, and the date was over.

Not quite.

The camera crew was still on them as they headed back to the limousine. Vanilla groaned as Spencer escorted her to the car. Hadn’t they DONE this already? When were they going to take the cameras away, after she got home? Well, at least there was only that part left.

Vanilla did her best to flash her PR smile the whole way home, but inwardly she was thinking. She was thinking about her two feelings about Spencer (she refused to even THINK of him by his full name), and she was thinking what a relief it would be to get home, and more so when this whole thing died down, though she wondered how long that would take.



* * * * *



Finally they were in sight of the house. Somehow it seemed to take longer than the rest of the date had—why WAS that? There was no mistaking it—Honey was waiting for them on the porch. Once again, she was trembling with excitement.

“Hey, Vanilla, I saw the whole thing on TV!” she cried, jumping up and down.

Vanilla did her best to maintain her dignity as Spencer escorted her to the front door.

“Thanks ever so for a good time,” said Vanilla.

“My pleasure,” said Spencer, producing a single rose and presenting it to her.

“Come on, what kind of goodnight is that at the end of a date?” said the cameraman.

Spencer looked at him, no expression on his face.

Vanilla tried to maintain her own stoic expression. It wasn’t easy.

“Come on….” said the cameraman.

Spencer rolled his eyes, then turned to Vanilla. Slowly he closed his eyes.

Vanilla’s heart started pounding against her rib cage. It was getting impossible to maintain her dignity, when—

“Hey, what’s the big idea?!” said the cameraman.

Vanilla opened her eyes—had she shut them?—and saw what had happened. Honey had gotten between her and Spencer, and SHE had received his kiss. It was still embarrassing since it was on camera, but Vanilla couldn’t help a small sense of relief.

Spencer looked surprised, and stared at Honey, who grinned back and blushed.

“I guess we can try to edit that in the re-releases,” said the cameraman.

Spencer waved goodbye to Vanilla, bowing low, and left with his camera crew, no more words from his mouth.

Vanilla went straight inside to change, but Honey stayed outside for quite a long time afterward, her paw to the cheek that had been kissed by Spencer Gyro.



* * * * *



“And then what? And then what?”

Vanilla, who was back in her comfortable green hooded jacket, sighed impatiently. “You watched the TV, you KNOW what happened next.”

“I know, I know, but it’s not the same as BEING there!”

“You’re going to bug me about this the rest of my life, aren’t you?”

“No, I won’t,” said Honey. “I’m just so EXCITED about the whole thing!”

Vanilla groaned. “Well, the one part you didn’t see was when we were at the bathrooms. He said something that made me both jealous of him and…made me pity him.”

“What do you mean?”

Vanilla sighed. “He’s more confident in front of the camera, but…he has no choice but to live as a character all the time, while you and I are more free to be who we are. I was so concerned with how I felt in that crowd of Spencer Gyro fangirls that I didn’t think of how HE might have felt.”

“Wait…you don’t think he enjoyed it?”

“I don’t know if he COULD enjoy it or not—I think he just took it in stride, as how life is for him.”

“Wow…I-I guess I never thought about that….”

Now, for the first time, Honey looked sad. “I mean…I love our role-plays and all,” she said, “but I also love coming back to reality at the end. I wouldn’t want to have it NEVER come back to reality….”

Vanilla noted that Honey looked VERY sad now.

“…Did I just tear down an idol of yours?” she said, no discernable expression on her face or in her voice.

Honey shook her head, sniffing. “No, I’m—I’m glad you did. You were right, I was acting just like a dumb fangirl, and I shouldn’t have. I’m smarter than that.”

Vanilla shifted her weight from one foot to the other, then shrugged. “You’re entitled to like what you want.”

Honey shook her head again. “No, I still love Spencer Gyro, and the whole ‘Lost Dogs’ show, but…I loved it in the wrong way. Now I think I can love it in a better way…once I get over this disillusionment.”

Vanilla shrugged. “Then…I guess maybe it was a good thing all around that I got picked….”

Honey nodded.

“Thank you, though, for accepting his kiss.”

Honey giggled in spite of herself. “My pleasure,” she said, imitating Spencer’s voice, with its Clint Eastwood whisper and its Greek accent.

Vanilla rolled her eyes. She still had the rose, but gave it to Honey. She would appreciate it more. Honey was very grateful, and would treasure it always.

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Wed Jan 04, 2012 8:03 pm
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Post Re: A Date with Fate
Didn't expect what Honey did to Spencer but that was a nice save I say. So Spencer seems to be like Vanilla except with a realistic viewpoint opposed to her cynicism.

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Wed Jan 04, 2012 9:43 pm
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Post Re: A Date with Fate
Meh.
Cute was cute, but... Dunno, left an aftertaste of unfinished. As if you wanted to rush the finale, this time.

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Post Re: A Date with Fate
A nice story as always. Very cute and I loved the dinner conversation! :lol:

Can't wait for your next Cake story.

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Post Re: A Date with Fate
valerio wrote:
Meh.
Cute was cute, but... Dunno, left an aftertaste of unfinished. As if you wanted to rush the finale, this time.


What exactly were you hoping for?

Also, kavviyenta, how do you figure that Spencer is realistic as opposed to Vanilla's cynicism?

But thanks for the compliments! :D

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Thu Jan 05, 2012 4:26 pm
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Post Re: A Date with Fate
Where are the diabolical-obsessive fangirls ready to burn the competitor to Gyro's heart?
Was all of this part of a diabolical plan of Honey to humiliate Vanilla into hiding in a corner forever?
Wil Spencer fall on his knees and declare his true love for Vanilla?
Or will Spencer's first mate show up with the newborn pup, ready to exact vengeance on Vanilla for taking away her husband?!
The share will be enough to justify a second date?
Stay tuned!

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'Yes?'
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Post Re: A Date with Fate
valerio wrote:
Where are the diabolical-obsessive fangirls ready to burn the competitor to Gyro's heart?
Was all of this part of a diabolical plan of Honey to humiliate Vanilla into hiding in a corner forever?
Wil Spencer fall on his knees and declare his true love for Vanilla?
Or will Spencer's first mate show up with the newborn pup, ready to exact vengeance on Vanilla for taking away her husband?!
The share will be enough to justify a second date?
Stay tuned!

'Mr. Valerio'
'Yes?'
*tapping foot* 'You forgot to take your prozac. Again?'
*tapping fingers* '..Yes?'
'Back in your room and stop pestering the authors. Marsch!'
'Aw'


I've already shown them and it would ruin the mood to do so again, besides which I don't like to write for obsessive fangirls and don't know much about it anyway.
No.
No.
No.
No.

I'm not as satisfied with it as I might be either, but those are not ways to improve it. The first is probably the closest to a good suggestion, but I don't really want to.

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"We have to do this take again! HAL, do it with a LOT less emotion!"
"I'm sorry Stan, I'm afraid I can't do that."
--Phoenix

pair-o-dimes dot blogspot dot com


Thu Jan 05, 2012 4:47 pm
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