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Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sands/El/Carolina
Feedback: Just a yea or nay's good, but I adore meaty comments.
Disclaimer: Not mine, or my life would be a lot more…explosive.
Summary: Snippet from 'Trio'-verse.
***
"How the hell do you do it?" Carolina growled disbelievingly. Angrily snapping the shirt in her hands, she glowered at Sands. "You and El both, goddamn it. Look at this!"
Head rolling sideways in an eloquent expression of annoyance, the American made rude gestures with his cane. "Blind, darling."
"And you think you can use that for an excuse?" she snorted, flinging the garment back into her basket. Familiar footsteps came up the walk, and both of them turned towards the sound. For a moment, Sands thought about yelling a warning, and then shrugged. He was feeling generous today, so he'd share the harridan. "El…" Carolina seethed.
The clicking of the boots halted just short of the clothesline. "Yes?" the mariachi asked warily.
"They're unwashable!" she hissed. "All of it! I don't care if you have enough money to buy more; do you have to get in a fight every time you go out? I don't."
"They started it," El replied, almost sulkily.
"Oh, yes, and you expect me to be---mmmph! Mmmph-okay, fine. You're forgiv-mmm." The second kiss went on much longer, and soon thereafter, rustles and wet moans began. About time, Sands thought as he leaned his cane against the wall. Following the shuffling whimpers, he strolled after his two companions.
***