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Title: Busted
Fandom: The Hollows
Rating: PG
Word Count: 608
Characters/Pairings: Rachel/Ivy, Jenks
Summary: Rachel is not happy to be the centerfold of the latest Playwitch, especially seeing as how she never posed for them.



I stared, aghast, at the issue of Playwitch contained inside the plain brown wrapper I'd just shredded. I knew anything Nick sent me would be bad news, but this was just beyond the pale. The cover promised that "Rochelle Morgan" would bare all. She could've been me if it weren't for the double Ds, or should I say that charm posing as Double Ds. Getting the President Palin treatment was bad enough, but finding out from someone who'd been inside you was worse. Next time Ivy saw him, I wasn't holding her to her diet.

Stupid Playwitch. No self-respecting witch posed for them anyway, just broomstick lesbians and human wannabes.

"I smell a gloomy gus," Ivy deadpanned, sweeping in with the hem of her robe in tow. My heart went from cruise control to 90 MPH. Then my brain stomped on the brakes.

"Did you just call me a gloomy gus?"

"You said I should lighten up," she was too busy pouring herself orange juice to play with my hair, so she sent me a look which made it clear how much she wanted to play with my... hair. My brain wasn't stomping on the brakes anymore. "Be more... affectionate."

"Ivy, if you were any more affectionate, I wouldn't be able to walk straight." I shook my head. Do not think of Ivy num-num. Stay good and mad! I held up the latest issue of Playwitch. "Ivy, have you seen this?"

"No, but if you wanted to model, they definitely would've paid more for us together."

"It's not me!"

Her eyes dipped to my chest. "Ah, yes. Well, any publicity is good publicity. And I can't see how people thinking you have large, succulent breasts will turn away business."

"This is not about finance! I've been... slandered!"

"You can't expect to save the world in tight leather pants and not have people want to see you nude. Trust me on this."

"Weeell..." I rubbed my chin. "Is it tasteful?"

Ivy flipped through it while she gulped citrus. "Very tasteful. Hardly any beaver shots."

"Ivy, next time we see Nick, kill him for me."

"Honey, it's not even our anniversary."

"Rache! Didya hear, didya hear?" Jenks bounded into the room so fast his wings left an orange trail. "Ivy, Rachel made the cover of Playwitch!"

"That's not me!"

"Our Rachel is less... blessed." Ivy hid her amusement behind a wall of snark.

"Everyone knows more than a handful is a waste."

Ivy got herself some more OJ.

"Right, honey?"

"Rachel, you know these rags only cater to human-centric male gaze. Just from reading that trash, you'd think all vamps were these beautiful, bisexual... angst-muffins who spend all their time on the hunt for comely young virgins to sink... their... teeth... what are you all looking at? Rachel isn't a virgin!"

"Next best thing," Jenks said.

"Don't make me get the fly-swatter," I said.

"And pixies!" Ivy gestured at Jenks. "Since the pix's age of consent is two, and they look like kids when they're well into middle age, they can make Barely Legal totally legal!"

"Let's not forget the all-important microphile market!" Jenks added cheerily.

"Best not to ask what Weres get off on. The phrase 'doggy style' is woefully inadequate."

"Well, when you put it that way..." I sunk my chin into my hands. "I suppose it's actually a little flattering."

"That's the spirit, Rachel." Ivy awkwardly tapped me on the back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some paperwork to catch up on."

"Ivy?" I said as she left the kitchen.

"Yes?"

"Where are you going with that Playwitch?"

"I'm... I'm going to read the articles."

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