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toxic_cornSeries: Claudia Kishi: Pirate's Queen
Title: Chapter Five
Authors: toxic_corn and nutmeg610
Fandom: Dodgeball/Baby-Sitter's Club crossover (yes, really)
Disclaimer: Claudia belongs to Ann M. Martin and Scholastic books, and Steve belongs to Rawson Marshall Thurber and 20th Century Fox.
Rating: R/NC-17ish
Summary: Claudia's trying to get by, working at an art gallery until she gets discovered. Little does she know that the strange wanna-be pirate she meets in Central Park can offer her more than she ever imagined possible.
Author's Note: Most likely the last in the crack series, which includes Your Boyfriend Snorts Cocaine, Mary Anne, Wanna Get It On, Dawn?, Kristy and the Doctor, and Stacey Loves the Invisible Man.
Round-up Post
Late night update because I'm going to be busy all day tomorrow with finals.
Chapter Five
“Hey, Claud, it’s Kristy!”
“And Mary Anne.”
“And Dawn.”
“And Jessi.”
“And Mallory.”
“We just wanted to say, good luck at your show! We really wish we could be there. Good luck and I hope you kick ass!”
“Or do really well.”
“Fine, Mary Anne. Or do really well.”
- mp3 greeting compiled and sent to Claudia Kishi from Mallory Pike
“Is it just me or is time moving really fast lately?” Claudia asked nervously.
“Just you,” Stacey answered. She lifted Claudia’s hair up and slid in the hair sticks to keep her handiwork in place. “Are you worried about the show, Ms. Artist?”
Claudia shook her head, met Stacey’s skeptical gaze in the mirror, then nodded sheepishly. “It’s just that Bertram’s going to be there and… Stace, he’s amazing. I really respect his opinion and I want to look good in front of him."
“Is this the guy who calls you Connie?”
“He’s just bad with names,” Claudia said defensively.
Stacey held up her hands, surrendering. “Okay, okay, sorry I brought it up.” Her expression softened. “Oh, Claud. You look beautiful.”
Claudia grinned. “I know, don’t I?” She’d designed her dress herself; it had once been a drop cloth so the white fabric was covered in beautiful swirls of paint from all the colors of the rainbow. She’d worked with it so that it hung off one shoulder, gathered in at the waist, and flared outwards, stopping at her knees. Kara said it made her look like a bohemian Audrey Hepburn. She’d completed the look with dangly mini-paintbrush earrings and the highest high heels she could find, with black ribbons that wrapped around her legs.
“Anyone else would look insane,” Stacey said and squeezed Claudia’s shoulder. “But that’s what’s great about your look; no one can steal it.”
“Why would anyone want to?” a sardonic voice said. Just outside the open bathroom door, Stacey’s boyfriend Claude materialized out of thin air. “She looks pretty insane to me.”
“Be nice,” Stacey hissed, slapping him in the chest. “You promised to be supportive.”
“I am!” Claude protested. “I don’t think she should leave the house like that!”
Normally, Claudia didn’t want Claude’s opinion but tonight was really important. She looked down at the dress she’d loved a minute ago and felt the first bit of doubt.
“Claudia, you look wonderful,” Stacey said firmly. “Claude’s just old fashioned.”
At her emphasis on “old” Claude’s face went blank and he walked away without a word.
“Uh oh,” Claudia said, watching him go.
Stacey shook her head. “He’ll get over it. Now,” she struck a pose, “How do I look?”
Claudia looked over Stacey’s elegant floor length gown. It was in classic black, low-cut and backless, and had a slit up the back so she could walk. She’d chosen to wear her hair down in loose curls around her shoulders.
“Sophisticated,” Claudia answered.
Beaming, Stacey hugged her. “Looks like we’re ready for an art show!”
~*~
The gallery was more crowded than she’d been expecting. All of Claudia’s old art school friends were there, everyone from the gallery, Kara who had caught her right away to hug her and squeal excitedly, and to her surprise all the guys from Joe’s Gym.
“You’re a super star!” Stacey exclaimed. Even Claude looked impressed as Stacey held his hand.
Claudia laughed. “Just because there’s a lot of people here, it doesn’t mean they all like my show.”
“If they didn’t, there’d be a rush for the door,” Claude pointed out. “They like it; why wouldn’t they?”
“Thanks,” Claudia said, surprised and touched. She and Claude had their differences but he respected her art.
She wasn’t able to stay with them long; most of the evening she was pushed and pulled in several different directions, introduced to reporters, critics, art agents, other respected artists and patrons with questions and comments.
After an hour, she was glad when a lull finally came and she was able to take a breath and recover from all the attention she was receiving. As flattering as it all was, she was beginning to feel slightly overwhelmed.
“I don’t know,” a voice nearby said, sounding unimpressed. She turned quickly and was surprised to see Bertram Cadence frowning critically at her favorite piece. Her heart sank a little.
The group of people near him murmured amongst themselves before one person asked, “What do you find lacking, Bertram?”
Bertram rolled his eyes and Claudia wished she could turn invisible like Claude. “It’s just so pedantic. Her centerpiece is a series of landscapes? You could go to any high school art show and see the same thing and done better, too.” He tapped the first painting in the sequence. “Like this one. Why this is hanging in a gallery is beyond me. This artist is never going to work again.”
Claudia found it hard to breathe as she felt her dreams shatter. No fabulous art career, no Bertram Cadence on her arm, no triumphant evening.
“And, I mean, it’s the same exact landscape each time! Only Monet can get away with that with his bales of hay. And this is certainly no Monet; it‘s some crummy little backyard in suburbia.”
“Actually, I’m going to have to disagree with you, Mr. Cadence.” Claudia looked around to see who her defender was and to her ever-lasting shock, Steve the Pirate - dressed in Armani!- stepped out of the cluster of people near Bertram. “Ms. Kishi was right to make this her centerpiece.”
Bertram sneered. “And you would be…?”
“A keen appreciator of art. Which doesn’t include yours.” People nearby gasped but Steve ignored them as he stepped forward to tap the first painting. “Look at this one. No, it’s not technically proficient, but look at the next one.” He pointed. “She improves in her use of color. And onward, each new technical element appearing as she learns it. Did you catch the name of the show?”
“I didn’t.” Bertram said through gritted teeth. The group was looking at the paintings and nodding; he didn’t like losing his supporters.
“It’s called ‘Steps.’ If you were paying attention, you’d see that the whole theme of tonight is evolution, the artist’s evolution from girl to woman, from amateur to artist. Did you notice how there’s a slight difference in each painting other than the artistic improvement?” He pointed again. “There’s a teddy bear on the ground there. In the next one a soccer ball. The next, there’s a tube of lipstick on the porch railing there.”
“She’s growing up in more than one way,” someone said.
Steve nodded and continued to Bertram, who was turning red slowly, “You’d have noticed if you weren’t so self-centered. Or if you’d bothered to talk to the artist, who’s standing right behind you and heard your ignorant, snobbish comments.”
Bertram spun, eyes wide with alarm. “Cat!”
“It’s Claudia, actually. I just thought you were bad with names but Steve’s right; you are self-centered.”
For a moment he could only gape at her before recovering his cool. “This scene just got tired. You guys up for espresso?” He looked at his group but they all glanced away from him uncomfortably. “Fine,” he growled and stormed off through the crowd, knocking down a photographer from the Village Voice.
With the excitement over, the crowd started to thin out around that particular display. Claudia lost track of Steve for a moment but caught sight of him heading for the door. She hurried to him and grabbed his arm.
“Wait, Steve!”
“Yes?” His tone was coolly polite.
"What you said, you-- well, you probably just saved my career. Thank you so much."
“You’re welcome,” he said simply.
Claudia smiled. "And you got what I was going for too, which is more than I can say for Bertram." She made a face at the sound of his name; how could she not have noticed how losery it was before? "You know a lot about art."
“I almost majored in art history,” Steve said.
“Really? That’s cool.”
“Mmm.”
She nervously tugged on her earring, unnerved by how stoic he was acting. "You look really nice tonight."
“Surprising, isn’t it?” he asked sarcastically.
“Yeah,” she said without thinking but then caught herself. "I mean...! Armani, wow. It's... a great suit."
"Uh huh. Well, I'm glad your show's been a success, Claudia. I was actually on my way out, so..."
"Oh, right. I wish I ran into you earlier,” she said regretfully. "But, uh, thanks for coming,” she added with a smile.
"Peter wanted us all to go. Anyway. Goodnight." Just like that, he walked off.
“Bye!” Claudia called after him.
He made no response though he wasn’t far enough away to be out of earshot. She watched him until he was out of sight and then heaved a sigh. It was amazing how often she screwed up with guys. Instead of all her pining over Bertram, she should’ve accepted one of Steve’s many offers to go out.
“Hey!” Stacey popped up by her elbow, dragging Claude along behind her. “I think the party’s winding down. Do you have to stay here or can you just take off?”
“You guys can go,” she said, glancing at Claude’s tired and cranky expression. “I’m going to help clean up; I’ll probably be late.”
“Okay. Everyone really enjoyed the show, Claudia. You’re a hit!” Stacey gave her a quick hug and kiss and then led Claude away.
Claudia let her shoulders droop and leaned against the wall. She didn’t feel like such a hit, seeing the blank expression on Steve’s face. I’m sorry, she thought, hoping it would carry to him somehow.
< Chapter Four : Chapter Six >
Title: Chapter Five
Authors: toxic_corn and nutmeg610
Fandom: Dodgeball/Baby-Sitter's Club crossover (yes, really)
Disclaimer: Claudia belongs to Ann M. Martin and Scholastic books, and Steve belongs to Rawson Marshall Thurber and 20th Century Fox.
Rating: R/NC-17ish
Summary: Claudia's trying to get by, working at an art gallery until she gets discovered. Little does she know that the strange wanna-be pirate she meets in Central Park can offer her more than she ever imagined possible.
Author's Note: Most likely the last in the crack series, which includes Your Boyfriend Snorts Cocaine, Mary Anne, Wanna Get It On, Dawn?, Kristy and the Doctor, and Stacey Loves the Invisible Man.
Round-up Post
Late night update because I'm going to be busy all day tomorrow with finals.
“Hey, Claud, it’s Kristy!”
“And Mary Anne.”
“And Dawn.”
“And Jessi.”
“And Mallory.”
“We just wanted to say, good luck at your show! We really wish we could be there. Good luck and I hope you kick ass!”
“Or do really well.”
“Fine, Mary Anne. Or do really well.”
- mp3 greeting compiled and sent to Claudia Kishi from Mallory Pike
“Is it just me or is time moving really fast lately?” Claudia asked nervously.
“Just you,” Stacey answered. She lifted Claudia’s hair up and slid in the hair sticks to keep her handiwork in place. “Are you worried about the show, Ms. Artist?”
Claudia shook her head, met Stacey’s skeptical gaze in the mirror, then nodded sheepishly. “It’s just that Bertram’s going to be there and… Stace, he’s amazing. I really respect his opinion and I want to look good in front of him."
“Is this the guy who calls you Connie?”
“He’s just bad with names,” Claudia said defensively.
Stacey held up her hands, surrendering. “Okay, okay, sorry I brought it up.” Her expression softened. “Oh, Claud. You look beautiful.”
Claudia grinned. “I know, don’t I?” She’d designed her dress herself; it had once been a drop cloth so the white fabric was covered in beautiful swirls of paint from all the colors of the rainbow. She’d worked with it so that it hung off one shoulder, gathered in at the waist, and flared outwards, stopping at her knees. Kara said it made her look like a bohemian Audrey Hepburn. She’d completed the look with dangly mini-paintbrush earrings and the highest high heels she could find, with black ribbons that wrapped around her legs.
“Anyone else would look insane,” Stacey said and squeezed Claudia’s shoulder. “But that’s what’s great about your look; no one can steal it.”
“Why would anyone want to?” a sardonic voice said. Just outside the open bathroom door, Stacey’s boyfriend Claude materialized out of thin air. “She looks pretty insane to me.”
“Be nice,” Stacey hissed, slapping him in the chest. “You promised to be supportive.”
“I am!” Claude protested. “I don’t think she should leave the house like that!”
Normally, Claudia didn’t want Claude’s opinion but tonight was really important. She looked down at the dress she’d loved a minute ago and felt the first bit of doubt.
“Claudia, you look wonderful,” Stacey said firmly. “Claude’s just old fashioned.”
At her emphasis on “old” Claude’s face went blank and he walked away without a word.
“Uh oh,” Claudia said, watching him go.
Stacey shook her head. “He’ll get over it. Now,” she struck a pose, “How do I look?”
Claudia looked over Stacey’s elegant floor length gown. It was in classic black, low-cut and backless, and had a slit up the back so she could walk. She’d chosen to wear her hair down in loose curls around her shoulders.
“Sophisticated,” Claudia answered.
Beaming, Stacey hugged her. “Looks like we’re ready for an art show!”
The gallery was more crowded than she’d been expecting. All of Claudia’s old art school friends were there, everyone from the gallery, Kara who had caught her right away to hug her and squeal excitedly, and to her surprise all the guys from Joe’s Gym.
“You’re a super star!” Stacey exclaimed. Even Claude looked impressed as Stacey held his hand.
Claudia laughed. “Just because there’s a lot of people here, it doesn’t mean they all like my show.”
“If they didn’t, there’d be a rush for the door,” Claude pointed out. “They like it; why wouldn’t they?”
“Thanks,” Claudia said, surprised and touched. She and Claude had their differences but he respected her art.
She wasn’t able to stay with them long; most of the evening she was pushed and pulled in several different directions, introduced to reporters, critics, art agents, other respected artists and patrons with questions and comments.
After an hour, she was glad when a lull finally came and she was able to take a breath and recover from all the attention she was receiving. As flattering as it all was, she was beginning to feel slightly overwhelmed.
“I don’t know,” a voice nearby said, sounding unimpressed. She turned quickly and was surprised to see Bertram Cadence frowning critically at her favorite piece. Her heart sank a little.
The group of people near him murmured amongst themselves before one person asked, “What do you find lacking, Bertram?”
Bertram rolled his eyes and Claudia wished she could turn invisible like Claude. “It’s just so pedantic. Her centerpiece is a series of landscapes? You could go to any high school art show and see the same thing and done better, too.” He tapped the first painting in the sequence. “Like this one. Why this is hanging in a gallery is beyond me. This artist is never going to work again.”
Claudia found it hard to breathe as she felt her dreams shatter. No fabulous art career, no Bertram Cadence on her arm, no triumphant evening.
“And, I mean, it’s the same exact landscape each time! Only Monet can get away with that with his bales of hay. And this is certainly no Monet; it‘s some crummy little backyard in suburbia.”
“Actually, I’m going to have to disagree with you, Mr. Cadence.” Claudia looked around to see who her defender was and to her ever-lasting shock, Steve the Pirate - dressed in Armani!- stepped out of the cluster of people near Bertram. “Ms. Kishi was right to make this her centerpiece.”
Bertram sneered. “And you would be…?”
“A keen appreciator of art. Which doesn’t include yours.” People nearby gasped but Steve ignored them as he stepped forward to tap the first painting. “Look at this one. No, it’s not technically proficient, but look at the next one.” He pointed. “She improves in her use of color. And onward, each new technical element appearing as she learns it. Did you catch the name of the show?”
“I didn’t.” Bertram said through gritted teeth. The group was looking at the paintings and nodding; he didn’t like losing his supporters.
“It’s called ‘Steps.’ If you were paying attention, you’d see that the whole theme of tonight is evolution, the artist’s evolution from girl to woman, from amateur to artist. Did you notice how there’s a slight difference in each painting other than the artistic improvement?” He pointed again. “There’s a teddy bear on the ground there. In the next one a soccer ball. The next, there’s a tube of lipstick on the porch railing there.”
“She’s growing up in more than one way,” someone said.
Steve nodded and continued to Bertram, who was turning red slowly, “You’d have noticed if you weren’t so self-centered. Or if you’d bothered to talk to the artist, who’s standing right behind you and heard your ignorant, snobbish comments.”
Bertram spun, eyes wide with alarm. “Cat!”
“It’s Claudia, actually. I just thought you were bad with names but Steve’s right; you are self-centered.”
For a moment he could only gape at her before recovering his cool. “This scene just got tired. You guys up for espresso?” He looked at his group but they all glanced away from him uncomfortably. “Fine,” he growled and stormed off through the crowd, knocking down a photographer from the Village Voice.
With the excitement over, the crowd started to thin out around that particular display. Claudia lost track of Steve for a moment but caught sight of him heading for the door. She hurried to him and grabbed his arm.
“Wait, Steve!”
“Yes?” His tone was coolly polite.
"What you said, you-- well, you probably just saved my career. Thank you so much."
“You’re welcome,” he said simply.
Claudia smiled. "And you got what I was going for too, which is more than I can say for Bertram." She made a face at the sound of his name; how could she not have noticed how losery it was before? "You know a lot about art."
“I almost majored in art history,” Steve said.
“Really? That’s cool.”
“Mmm.”
She nervously tugged on her earring, unnerved by how stoic he was acting. "You look really nice tonight."
“Surprising, isn’t it?” he asked sarcastically.
“Yeah,” she said without thinking but then caught herself. "I mean...! Armani, wow. It's... a great suit."
"Uh huh. Well, I'm glad your show's been a success, Claudia. I was actually on my way out, so..."
"Oh, right. I wish I ran into you earlier,” she said regretfully. "But, uh, thanks for coming,” she added with a smile.
"Peter wanted us all to go. Anyway. Goodnight." Just like that, he walked off.
“Bye!” Claudia called after him.
He made no response though he wasn’t far enough away to be out of earshot. She watched him until he was out of sight and then heaved a sigh. It was amazing how often she screwed up with guys. Instead of all her pining over Bertram, she should’ve accepted one of Steve’s many offers to go out.
“Hey!” Stacey popped up by her elbow, dragging Claude along behind her. “I think the party’s winding down. Do you have to stay here or can you just take off?”
“You guys can go,” she said, glancing at Claude’s tired and cranky expression. “I’m going to help clean up; I’ll probably be late.”
“Okay. Everyone really enjoyed the show, Claudia. You’re a hit!” Stacey gave her a quick hug and kiss and then led Claude away.
Claudia let her shoulders droop and leaned against the wall. She didn’t feel like such a hit, seeing the blank expression on Steve’s face. I’m sorry, she thought, hoping it would carry to him somehow.
< Chapter Four : Chapter Six >
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Date: 2007-12-12 01:41 am (UTC)Steve's the man.