Title: HSU - A Ho Scorned
Author: Emmy
Rating: PODC (Pissed Off Diva-Centric)
Disclaimer: Here's some fiction for a fictional list. Bite me, George.
Thanks: to Darry, list mum extraordinaire and fabulous surrogate muse - different guy, same idea
Timeline: After Superstition...most likely after Laure's revenge, too

Emmy sucked in a breath as she marched down the hall. Her black skirt was slightly more form fitting than it was before she started lounging in her maligned flannel jammies a few weeks prior. No matter. She clutched the jumbo White Out and crinkled EA form in one hand, the General's wallet in the other.

She pushed open the door to Kendra's office.

"Right on time," Kendra said with a pleasant, I-got-mine-already smile. "Go on in."

Emmy glared at Kendra and opened the General's door with equal drama.

The General stood up and smiled at the finally fully clothed Diva, instinctively raising his hands when she flung his wallet at him.

"Don't bother," Emmy said as he opened the wallet, looking for the cash that was no longer there.

"Thank you," the General said, knowing better than to argue with the Diva over matters of money and ownership of such. "I was wondering what happened to this."

Emmy harumphed. "So, you happy now?"

The General arched an eyebrow. "Yes?" he responded cautiously.

"Like the outfit?"

He smiled at her this time. "Yes. You look lovely."

"Gonna remember what I'm wearing?" she asked, hands on her hips.

"Emmyyy."

"Don't 'Emmyyy' me."

"You misunderstood," the General said.

"Oh, I think I understood quite well," Emmy spat. "First it's 'you're really dressing like a slob', next it's 'my, you've really let yourself go'."

"Wait a minute," the General said with much exasperation. "I never said--"

"Then it's 'are you sure you really need that ice cream?'"

"Emmy."

"And 'I thought you were on a diet'."

"Emmy!"

"Oh, and then 'damn, woman, get a face lift'."

"Emmy!"

"'And some liposuction while you're at it.'"

"EMMY!"

"What's your problem anyway?!"

The General stepped quickly around his desk. "My problem?"

"Yes, your problem," Emmy said, going toe to toe with him.

"*My* problem?"

"Yes!"

"You want to know what *my* problem is?"

"Sure do!"

"I'll tell you what my problem is!"

"Well, spit it out, I'm not gettin' any younger!"

"No, you're not!"

Emmy opened her mouth to shoot back. And then she paused. "What did you say?"

The General, forgetting that whole thing about being a calm Jedi, allowed his mouth to continue unbidden. "You're a grown woman, far too old to be acting like a spoiled child!"

"Too old?" Emmy said. "TOO OLD??"

The General growled slightly. "That's *not* what I said."

"Um, yes you did," Emmy said, eyes widening for emphasis. "And don't you EVER call me a child!"

"Then stop acting like one!"

"You stop acting like a thoughtless jerk!" she yelled back.

"Thoughtless jerk?"

"Yes."

"Thoughtless jerk?!"

"Yes!"

The General scowled at the Diva. "Tell me one thing that I have done that makes me a thoughtless jerk," he said through gritted teeth.

"One?" Emmy scoffed. "I've got a list, baby!"

"Ha!" the General shot back.

"Ha?"

"Yes. Ha!"

Emmy pointed her finger at the General. "One, you locked us all in our offices and took off for the night, not even giving a second thought to what might happen if--"

"That was AGES ago!"

"Two, you *completely* ignored me when I was *forced* to give up my appointments in order to get Dande to turn off that God forsaken Titanic soundtrack."

"Ancient history."

"Three, you left Shana and I behind on your birthday trip."

"Haven't we been over this bef--"

"Four, you ignored *all* of us, to the extent that those Wanker boys tried to invade the campus, when you were so taken with that Sith spawn."

"I can't believe you--"

"Five, you DITCHED me when you promised me a nice dinner because you had an appointment with Dorotea that she probably forgot about."

"Yes, but--"

"So you took me to MCDONALD'S and ordered me a CHICKEN salad!"

The General bit his lip.

"And then you dropped half your dead cow on my leather upholstery."

The General sighed. "Well, I am sorry about tha--"

"Six, I was chased down by a BOUNTY HUNTER, and you acted like that was no big deal."

The General huffed, "I did not."

"Seven, I could die tomorrow, and the only thing you'd remember about me is that I had a tiara TWO MONTHS AGO!"

The General stepped forward with a stern look on his face. "Now that is unfair."

"And you haven't even bothered to replace my diamond necklace!"

The General paused for a moment. "What happened to your necklace?"

Emmy's cheeks flushed crimson. "The bounty hunter destroyed it," she growled. "I told you that."

"No you didn't"

"Yes, I did."

"No."

"You're a Jedi!! What's to tell??"

"Well, if you would just calm down and stop have temper tantrums all the time, maybe it would be a little easier for me to keep track of you."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, I don't know," he said. "How about you try staying out of prison for the next twenty-four hours."

Emmy gasped.

"Or maybe you could stop picking fights with everyone."

Emmy's mouth dropped open. "I do not pick fights!"

"You grrls are constantly at each other's throats," he said.

"Oh, and that's all my fault?"

"Well, you don't help matters," he grumbled.

"Well, pardon me for not being your lap dog."

"You see! You take everything I say and twist it around to make some sort of drama out of it. You do it with me, and you do it with everyone else!"

Emmy clenched her fists, squeezing the ragged paper and White Out in her hand. "Everything I do, every fight I pick, as you put it, is because of you."

"Because of me?" he asked pointedly.

"Yes, because of you."

"Because of me??"

"Yes!"

"How in the hell are your fits and vapors because of me?!"

"FITS AND VAPORS?!"

"You heard me!"

"My fits and vapors are to protect you! Because I'm stupid enough to think you deserve my devotion and everyone else's as well!"

"Listen," the General growled, his reason unable to catch up to his emotion. "I don't need a babysitter."

"A babysitter??!"

"Or a matchmaker."

"A matchmaker??!"

"And I sure as hell don't need a…a....a gold digging princess!"

Emmy froze in place, eyes growing wider still.

"Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to keep up with all you women, and you especially when--" The General froze in place, his brain finally registering what he just said.

Emmy glared at him a few seconds longer and then quickly turned on her heel and marched toward the door.

"Wait," the General said, stepping forward.

Emmy swiftly opened the door to walk out, and Kendra and Ellie swiftly fell in, stumbling past Emmy as she darted out of the office. "And that's *diamond* digging, by the way!" she yelled, stomping out into the hallway.

Kendra and Ellie remained sitting on the floor of the General's office as he paced back and forth a few times.

"I'm going for a ride," the General muttered as he strode out of his office.

"Damn," Ellie said.

"No kidding," Kendra said.

"We gotta tell the others," Ellie said, scrambling to her feet.

"Yeah, that's the best dish this week," Kendra said, hurrying to follow her roomie out into the hall.

~*~

"Princess," Emmy spat. "Who the hell does he think he is calling me that?" She shoved all the papers off her desk and slammed the White Out bottle and very crinkled EA form down. "He thinks I have an attitude problem now?" she groused, opening the White Out and painting large globs of it over Max's name. "I'll show him an attitude problem."

"Hey, you're not going to hide the kept man here, are you?" Tom Servo said. "Because if you are, I think I deserve some input on this."

"Shut. Up."

"For instance, I'd say go for a man's man....yet somebody who isn't going to stink the place up."

Emmy picked up her stapler and chucked it at Servo. "Gumball machine," she snapped pointing the tiny White Out paintbrush at him and splattering it on her desk. "Wal-Mart. Britney Spears stickers."

"Right-o," Servo said, ducking behind his desk. "Ummmm.... In the midst of your, uh, perfectly justifiable wrath, don't forget about the conference this afternoon."

"Huh?" Emmy grunted, slathering White Out over the EA description.

"The 'Prove Your Power as an Upper Management Demagogue' conference that you signed up for," Servo said.

Emmy paused and looked up. "I didn´t sign up for that."

"Uh…yeah, you did. Remember, you said it sounded like a good boondoggle with free dinner at the Four Seasons."

"Oh, right. Well, I have more important things to do now," Emmy said.

"Like make the General suffer for some egregious offense?"

"Exactly!" Emmy said, returning to her EA form. "And where'd you ever learn a word like 'egregious'?"

Servo saddled up into his executive chair. "I'll have you know that I am a highly educated--"

Emmy looked up and glared at him.

"Alright, I caught a rerun of Scrabble on the Gameshow Network. That Chuck Woolery...man, that guy had it!" Servo looked over at his disinterested boss. "So who's the…er...lucky guy?"

"No idea."

"Ah."

"@#$&!" Emmy exclaimed.

"What?"

"Just @#$&!" she said.

"Ah."

"I'm going to that stupid conference," she said, grabbing her purse. "Later."

"Uh, yeah. Whatever," Servo said, having involved himself in a heated Tomb Raider round...promptly finding himself landing smack on his face when the Diva kicked his chair.

~*~

"So where do you think she's off to this time?" Ellie asked as they watched the Diva speed away as she and Kendra stood out on the lawn spreading the good news that the General would have some available appointments.

"Who cares," Kymira said.

"Good point," Jen Jen said. "Hey, Ken, you got a jacuzzi appointment available?"

"Sorry, Tara and I get dibs on those," Kendra said.

~*~

Emmy cruised down the freeway, the mild autumn breeze blowing through her hair.

And then as she rounded the corner, the blue sky turned a deep grey, and a deluge suddenly thundered down upon her.

"@#$&!" Emmy yelled, slowing down and pressing the button for the soft top. The motor mechanism whirred and then slurred to a stop.

"@#$&! @#$&!" Emmy rapidly pressed the button again as the rain showered down on her. The top peeked out and then flopped into the back seat.

@#$&@#$&@#$&!!!" Emmy roared, slamming her foot on the gas and driving for cover.

~*~

Emmy had ignored the stares from the hotel staff as she casually walked into the conference hall, feigning oblivion to her drowned rat appearance. She even shrugged off the sideways glances and murmuring of the conference attendees as she sat rather uncomfortably in her damp clothes.

But when the air conditioner kicked on above her head, causing her fingers to turn blue and her teeth to chatter, Emmy started getting agitated. This was all the General's fault. If he hadn't been so ungrateful, she never would have bothered with the stupid conference.

Well, if he didn't need her, she didn't need him. And she certainly didn't need to die of hypothermia in the middle of a management conference because of him.

After taking several notes on taming belligerent employees, Emmy's mind began to wander from the topic on treating co-workers with kindness. This taking an EA business was a big step for her, but something she would do boldly since the General didn't love her anymore. Emmy bit her lip as big alligator tears clouded her eyes. She clenched her pen tightly in both hands to stave off her rising distress.

And then the pen suddenly snapped in her hands.

"@#$&!" Emmy exclaimed, jumping up from her chair, every head in the room turning toward her as she was covered in a gush of blue ink.

~*~

"Get a load of that."

The hotel clerk looked up to see a woman with frizzy hair, droopy, stained clothes, and blue arms and hands marching angrily toward him. He picked up his phone and prepared to dial for security.

"I need a room," Emmy ordered.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid we're all booked--"

"Now!" Emmy said, throwing her gold card at him.

The clerk eyed her dubiously as he swiped her credit card. Then his face lit up as he received the authorization. He gave her a phony smile and said, "And how long will you be staying with us?"

"An hour," Emmy said. "Two hours tops."

"Uh..."

"Is there a problem?"

"No, ma'am. No problem at all," the clerk replied. "Here is your--"

Emmy grabbed the cardkey out of his hand and marched toward the elevator, stopping abruptly as a small boutique caught her attention.

"Is there something I can help you with," the storeclerk asked in that condescending manner of fashionable boutique storeclerks.

"Something warm," Emmy muttered to herself, giving the boutique a quick glance.

"Ma'am?" the storeclerk said with a slight huff at the sight of this customer.

"I want that," Emmy said, pointing to a black sweater dress.

The storeclerk huffed again. "That is Ralph Lauren," she replied in a tone that suggested her customer should be shopping at the Big K.

"No shit," Emmy said in her finely honed belittling tone. "Ring it up. Now," she said, shoving her gold card at the clerk.

"Of course," the storeclerk said, taking Emmy's card and being careful not to touch her inky fingers.

~*~

Emmy winced as she rubbed stinging lotion on her arms and hands, her skin scrubbed raw from her attempts to remove the ink in the now azure bathtub. Having tossed her ruined clothes in the wastebasket, she pulled the warm turtleneck sweater dress over her head, the hem coming to rest just above her ankles. She pinned her hair back in a semi-respectable fashion.

Emmy examined herself in the mirror. Not bad. Not bad at all. Especially considering what she looked like forty-five minutes earlier.

"I need a drink," she mumbled.

~*~

"No sign of her," Ellie said, walking swiftly toward Kendra's desk. "I want her appointment."

"She's not five minutes late yet," Kendra said.

"Her car isn't here," Ellie said.

"You know the five minute rule."

"I. Want. Her. Appointment." Ellie growled.

"Take a powder," Kendra said, flapping her hand at Ellie. "She's only three minutes and twenty-seven seconds late."

Ellie growled again.

"Maybe you think that's cute with Logan, but it aint flyin' here, sister," Kendra said.

"Time!" Ellie snapped.

"Three minutes, forty two seconds."

Ellie walked over in front of the General's closed door and stared at it.

Kendra whistled a tune as she propped her feet up on her desk.

"Time!"

"Four minutes, eighteen seconds."

Ellie sighed and tapped her foot.

Kendra continued to whistle.

Ellie glared at Kendra.

"T-minus ten...nine...eight...."

"@#$& this," Ellie said, opening the General's door and darting inside.

Kendra held her breath. The Diva still had four seconds to show. She watched her timer with wide eyes. Then she exhaled with relief as the timer zeroed out. Another disaster averted. She really deserved a raise.

~*~

SWM ISO SF for good times. Must be HWP, $ secure, NS, ND. I am fit, attractive, $ secure, looking for females 25-50 who will tie me up and diaper me. Pls send photo.

Emmy sighed with disgust. There had to be a better way to go about this. She took a sip of her margarita that was nowhere near as good as Judy's and tossed the paper into the chair across from her.

"I find it better not to even bother reading the damn thing."

Emmy turned her head to find the man at the table next to her looking at her.

"It all breaks your heart."

Emmy's eyebrows arched slightly. Nice voice.

"Or reaffirms your disdain for the bourgeoisie."

A slight smile curved on her lips. Very nice.

"Would you care to join me?" he said.

Emmy cocked her head to the side. Not too eager. A good sign. "I suppose," she shrugged. As she stepped to his table, she got a better look at him in the dim light of the hotel lounge. She smiled a little broader. That was definitely an Armani suit. Then she sat down and got a better look at his face. Good genes, she thought. Very good genes.

Downright perfect genes.

"What are you having?" he asked, stunning eyes seeming to flicker between blue and grey in the light of the lounge.

Frothy tequila would never do. "Merlot," Emmy said.

He smiled slightly. "Of course."

~*~

Emmy locked the stall door in the restroom just off the lounge and dialed her cell phone. It rang....and rang....and rang……and rang……"

~*~

"Ignore it," Cicero muttered, snuggling up to Darry under the covers.

"And do what instead," she asked with a tease in her voice. She laughed as Cic nipped at her neck. And then she reached up and threw the phone against the wall. "Well, alright then," she said, turning toward him.

And then the phone in her nightstand drawer began to ring.

"@#$&!" Darry exclaimed, flipping over and pulling the drawer out of the nightstand, sending the phone bouncing to the floor.

But it continued to ring.

"Whoever it is better be dying!" she growled, stretching off the end of the bed and grabbed the phone. "WHAT?"

"Darry, I need your help."

"Emmy, what the fu--"

"Just listen," Emmy said, trying to not echo in the restroom. "I met a guy, and I--"

"You WHAT?" Darry said, sitting straight up in bed as she laughed, Cic grabbing her around the waist and trying to pull her back down.

"I need some medical advice," Emmy said.

"Oh geez, Em, where'd you meet this guy?"

"In a bar."

"In a bar?!" Darry laughed again. She looked down at Cic. "The Diva met a guy in a bar!"

~*~

In the library, the coffin door flew open and Dorotea sat up like shot. "Did you hear that?"

~*~

"It's not *just* a bar!" Emmy said. "I'm at the lounge at the Four Seasons."

"Yeah, whatever," Darry said. "The condom goes on the wanger."

"Just listen," Emmy said again.

"I'm listening! Hurry it up, would ya? I'm in the middle of something here."

"Okay, so I met this guy."

"What's he look like?"

Emmy sighed, "I thought you told me to hurry up."

"Would you get on with it?" Darry said.

"See, there's this little tiny...well, thing."

"What thing? Like a thing, thing...or a situation thing?" Darry switched the phone to her other ear as Cic pulled her back down to the mattress.

"Well..."

"Just spit it out, I haven't got all night!"

"He can't walk."

"Huh??"

"He can't walk."

"What do you mean he can't walk?"

"Just what I said. He can't walk. He was in an accident. Now he's in a wheelchair."

Darry sat back up in the bed. "Let me get this straight. He can't walk. He was in an accident. Now he's in a wheelchair."

"Duh! Didn't I just say that?"

"Hey, you want me to help you or not?"

"Well, help me then!"

"Tell me what you want then!"

"He's in a wheelchair!"

"Ahhh, I get it," Darry said, laying back down. "Why don't you just ask him?"

"I just met him. I didn't want to be pushy."

Darry laughed again. "*You* didn't want to be pushy?"

"You're not helping!"

"Listen, Em, the legs may not work, but I'm sure the rest of him does."

"Great, thanks, night," Emmy said, hanging up and flying out of the restroom.

"Well, it's about time!" Darry said into the dead air. "Now," she said, tossing the phone over her shoulder and onto the floor. "Where were we?"

~*~

Ellie yawned, trying to focus her eyes on her computer. The Yoda alarm had kept her up all night, yet, according to her records, all EA'ing Ho's were actually behaving. Even Dorotea.

Suddenly her office door flew open and Emmy walked in.

Ellie sat up in her chair, a perplexed look on her face. Had the Diva ever seen the inside of her office?

"Here," Emmy said, slamming a crinkled, water-stained, White Out chunky EA form on Ellie's desk. "Sorry about last night. Things happen. You know."

"Holy shit," Ellie said. And then she began to laugh.

Emmy arched an eyebrow. "Tack it on the wall. Better yet, frame it and send it to the General," she said. And then her face broke into a smile. "Have a good day." With that, she turned and strolled out of the room.

Ellie picked up the phone as she examined the EA form. "Kendra, you're not gonna believe this."