The Mortician's Daughter

A/N: This story takes place before Sandra left BVB, and kinda when she was dating Kelly, but don't worry, later she'll leave and CC will be in it (:

“Raven, come on, did you really need to bring all that stuff, really?”

“Yes, actually, I did,” I replied, even though I knew the question was rhetorical. I followed Sabrina backstage. I had to admit to myself, the concert was epic, and I now considered myself a BVB fan.

She stopped short when we made it in. “Oh…my…God…” She looked like a child in K&B Toys. She suddenly ran all the way in till she was standing in the middle of everyone. I shook my head. I followed again, but slowly.

“Where’s Andy?” Sabrina asked, looking around. Then she forgot Andy when her “husband”, Ashley Purdy walked by, along with Jinxx, her former favorite. “Ashley!!” She ran after them. I shook my head again.

“Fine, leave me here,” I mumbled.

“You ready?” I heard a male voice behind me and turned around. There was Andy Six towering over me, all six feet and two inches of him.

“Uh, yeah…I should be the one asking you that, not vice versa. Anyway, shouldn’t you wait till, like, the fanbase is gone or something?”

“Or something,” he was saying, but just then a loud cry of, “Andy, I love you!!” shut him up.

Then came The Sabrina, who ran and glomped him so hard she practically plowed him over.

He, unlike I would have, just took it in stride. He laughed. “Thanks, hun.” He hugged her back.

“Raven, get a picture of us for MySpace!” She handed me her phone. Of course.

“Oh, yes, another picture for my ‘With You Guys’ album!” Andy said, genuinely enthusiastic. “You’ll send it to me?”

“Of course!” Sabrina said.

“All right you two,” I said, unenthusiastically. “Say…” I was about to say ‘cheese’, but then I said, “BVB!” It rhymed anyway.

“BVB!” they both cried, and I snapped the picture.

“No one even gets on MySpace anymore,” I mumbled as I stared at the picture I’d just taken.

“Andy,” Sabrina said; their arms were still around each others' waists. He looked down at her, looking right into her eyes. I noticed once again that he had the most gorgeous blue eyes I had ever seen, even behind all the makeup; they were even more piercing than Peter’s, and that was saying something. “Will you marry me?”

He laughed and squeezed her waist.

“Or at least let me rape you,” she continued before he could say anything.

“Well you know what they say…” Andy started.

“It’s not rape if you yell ‘surprise’!” he and Sabrina yelled simultaneously. Then they cracked up again.

She handed him a Sharpie. “Will you sign my shirt?”

“Sure thing.” He took the Sharpie. “What’s your name, hun?”

“Sabrina,” she replied. He bent down—dang he was tall—and started signing the front of her white band tee near where his picture was.

“So how do you know Miss Raven?” he asked as he signed.

“I love how you just assume we know each other,” I said, messing with Sab’s phone.

“I didn’t just assume,” he said as he finished signing with a flourish. He stood tall again. “She said, ‘Raven, get a picture of us for MySpace!' Obviously if she didn't know you she wouldn't know your name.”

“Clever deduction skills,” I said. “Sab is my...assistant I told you about on MySpace.”

He turned back to Sabrina. “So you're helping with the interview?” he asked.

“No,” I said immediately, at the exact same time she said, “Oh yeah, I'll 'interview' you all right.”

“Sabrina!” I was appalled at my best friend. “Really?”

“What?!” she replied with an I'm-completely-innocent face. “I am in love with this man, okay? Besides, he doesn't mind.” She turned to Andy. “Do you?”

He just laughed. “I'll see you guys later. I have other fans too, ya know.”

Sab and I stuck around backstage until after securit y had cleared all the fans out. Andy stuck up for us when they tried to make us leave too (which just made Sabrina swoon all the more, because he's so chivalrous!).

“All right!” Andy said, walking up to me. “You ready to do this thing?”

Just then someone ran by us, laughing like a maniac.

“Don't mind Ash,” Andy said. “He's drunk.”

“Like always,” Jinxx and Sandra piped up from the food table.

“Jinxx!” Sabrina cried, realizing that both Andy and Ashley were preoccupied, and ran over to Jinxx.

“Sure,” I said in reply to his earlier question. “Let's sit some where.”

More drunken running and laughing by Ashley.

“Or we could go somewhere else,” Andy and I said simultaneously. We laughed.

“Where to?” I asked.

“Hmm...” He thought for a moment. “Idk. I got nothin'.”

“Hmm...” I pulled out my phone. “I got some where. What would you say to 'The Office'?”

“Why not?”

“The problem being... I did not bring my keys.” I pressed number 2 on my speed dial.

Peter picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, hun. Could you do me the hugest favor? Could you bring your keys up to the school? I couldn't find mine earlier. I'll get them back to you tomorrow. Or Monday. Whenever.”

“Sure thing,” he said. “I'll be right up there.”

“Thank you so much. I love you forever.”

I hung up. Reliable old Peter.

“All right,” I told Andy. “The keys are on the way. We should head down there now.” I dug around in my bag for my car keys. “Sabrina, you ready?”

“She'll be fine here,” Andy said. I couldn't tell if he purposely didn't want her tagging along because she's...well...Sabrina, or if he was just being “nice” by letting her stay with Ashley and Jinxx. Quite frankly I didn't care either way.

“If you say so,” I replied. “She might be fine, but what about poor unsuspecting Ashley? And Jinxx?”

Andy glanced over in their direction. Then he turned back around and shrugged. “They'll be fine. We're all pretty used to it.”

“Okay, if you say so,” I said again. We walked out of the building out the back way, then circled around till we made it to the parking lot then to my car. It involved a lot of walking. Andy acted like he didn't mind, making small talk the whole time.

I drove us up to the school, which was pretty far. I saw Peter's car in my headlights, so I pulled right next to him.

“You are a savior!” I said as I got out of my car.

He dangled the keys in front of my face. I held up my palm, and he dropped them into it. “Thank you,” I said in a sing-song voice. I made a fist around the keys.

Andy came around the car. “Hey,” he said to Peter. “Are you gonna introduce me?” he asked me.

“Oh! Peter, this is Andy, my latest victim. Andy, this is Peter...” I stopped right before I said my boyfriend. Normally I would have made no secret of it, so I don't know why I did that. I mean, after almost 4 years together practically the whole world knew. And I do have values. But come on. This was Andy Six we're talking about. “He runs the paper. The one I'm victimizing you for.”

“Oh, okay,” Andy said. He shook Peter's hand. “Nice to meet you.”

I could tell Peter was trying not to cringe. He didn't do well around piercings and tattoos. My own piercings (I'd had snakebites, my right eyebrow, and my nose pierced) had all closed up (well, except my nose, I still kept the small stud) because Peter (so subtly hinted at it, but still) could not be seen by his family with someone who had piercings in their face. Black clothes, dark makeup, fine. Piercings and/or tattoos...no.

And he was staring right at Andy's long thick hair that spiked at the top and all jagged everywhere else. Peter's hair wasn't short, but he also didn't do well around guys with hair...longer than a girl's.

“Nice to meet you too,” Peter said finally.

“Thanks again, hun,” I said. I turned around and started walking off with Andy.

“Raven,” Peter said before I'd even gotten anywhere.

I turned around.

“Hey, what's up with you?” he asked semi-quietly, taking a step toward me.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

He closed the gap and kissed me full on the lips. “Nothing,” he said after he pulled away, stepping back. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” I mumbled, blushing like crazy as I turned back around. Why did he have to be possessive? Not that I minded usually... Usually I was possessive right back.
Because I really did love him. But still.

“Oh, high school,” Andy mumbled almost inaudibly as we walked up to the school.

“It seems,” he said to me finally as I looked for the right key, “that you were not completely truthful with me.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. I found the right key and opened up the school.

“You apparently forgot to mention the part about Peter being your boyfriend.”

“Was it necessary that I mention Peter is my boyfriend?”

He shrugged. “No,” he said perkily. “It's just...interesting, that's all.”

“Interesting how?” I asked as we entered the school. I turned back around to lock the door from the inside.

He shrugged again. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“No, tell me,” I said as we walked down the pitch black hall. I stopped suddenly and flipped the switches on the wall and all the lights came up. We continued walking down the abandoned hallway. I picked up a crumpled piece of paper that the janitors had missed and threw it in a large trash can.

“I just meant that you're so completely different.”

I wasn't trying to be mean, but I felt mean after he said that, so I said, “Oh, what, like you and your ex weren't? Sabrina made me watch all the videos, I saw her, and she sure as hell wasn't like you.”

“You don't even know Scout. She loves the macabre, she's not a girly girl at all, and... Why am I trying to justify myself to you?” He stopped. It didn't matter; we were at The Office anyway.

“You know what, let's just leave it at that. I don't know Scout, but you don't know Peter. Or me, for that matter.”

“You're right,” he said as I unlocked The Office door. “Let's leave it at that.”

“Good,” I said as I opened the door and flicked on the light switch. “Then I won't say anything about how absolutely right you are.”

“Excuse me?” he asked as I threw the keys onto the Editor's desk.

“Nothing,” I said. “Forget I said anything.”

“No, no, I love hearing how I'm right when I'm right.”

I sighed. “This interview is about your life story, not mine. I haven't even gotten a chance to ask you any questions!”

“Okay, new condition.” He sat on top of the Editor's—Peter's—desk. It felt weird, seeing Andy Six sitting on top of Peter's desk, squirming so he wouldn't mess up any of the papers or knock off a cup of pens. Like, this was my and Peter's territory, and this stranger that I barely knew and would probably never see again was coming in and knocking the metaphoric cup of pens off the metaphoric desk that Peter and I had so carefully organized. I shook it off. What the mess? “I'll do the interview if you answer me.”

“What exactly do you want to know?” I was hedging.

“What exactly did you mean by I have no idea how absolutely right I am?”

I sighed. I walked behind Peter's desk and flopped down in his spinny chair. Andy tried turning around to face me, but when he found that too uncomfortable, he turned all the way around so he could dangle his long legs off the back of the desk and face me, knocking some papers off in the process.

“Great,” I said, frustrated.

“Sor-ry,” he said in a whiny voice, ostensibly trying to imitate me. “I'll pick them up.”

“But he'll get all pissy if they're out of order.”

“Fuck him,” Andy said. “It's fucking paper.”