[237] Wet Asphalt, Tire Tracks (Original)

[ilthit]

Title: Wet Asphalt, Tire Tracks
Fandom: Original
Characters/Pairings: Juliette Park/Anna Pratt
Rating: teen
Words: 300
Notes: A little follow-up to my femslashex story. Crossposted on creativechallenges . Contains: Suicidal ideation, reference to murder.


The day spread itself over the Flemish countryside, misty and pale like a shroud. The car, an inconspicuous grey Audi they'd picked up in Oostende, flew along the wet highway. The GPS system had been quiet for a while.

"It's going to be wet," said Juliette, her stockinged knees pulled up to her chest on the passenger seat. She had a way of saying one thing by saying another. It was one of those things that Anna figured would eventually drive her nuts. Right now, it didn't. Right now, she liked everything about Juliette Park.

"I know, love." Funny how that word still didn't fit her mouth. Her mouth wasn't made for it. "We'll find a nice hotel. Ardennes is bursting with them, I hear."

"With a bath-tub." Juliette was smiling again, sinking deeper into the seat. That was all Anna wanted. That, and a wet forest.

"And room service."

"Mmm."

For a little while, at least. They'd have to move on soon. There were no sirens on their tail yet, but eventually someone would report that businessman missing, and they'd start looking for his car.

Anna was careful to keep to the speed limit. Cameras everywhere. But it was only a matter of time.

"Clicquot. I've never had Clicquot, but doesn't it sound good? I want to kiss Clicquot from your lips."

Anna laughed out loud at that. "Save some of that cash for plane tickets."

"There'll be more cash." Juliette said it quietly, almost under her breath. She yawned and rested her head back against the seat, closing her eyes.

More cash. More missing men. She should drive this damn car into a tree, if only there were any in this eerie flat country.

They couldn't keep this up forever. But forever wasn't what they were here for.