Bruce glanced nervously over his shoulder at the twins. It was the most worried Elizabeth had ever seen him. He looks even more worried than that time we saw a hummingbird hovering outside of his office window at Patman Canning, Elizabeth thought. I think he seriously thought it was going to bust through the glass and peck our eyes out!

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Ned continued, “I ask you: Would a man afraid of birds be capable of date rape? By the end of this trial, I’m confident you will come to the same conclusion that I have: No, a man afraid of birds doesn’t have the balls to commit date rape.”

Wow, it’s almost like Dad read my mind, Elizabeth thought. That’s kind of creepy.

Jessica giggled a little bit louder and shifted in her seat as their father took his seat back at the defense table. “Birds!” she repeated, laughing. “I lied: This is the funniest shit I’ve heard all week.” An obscure pop culture reference

“Thanks for the tip, Caroline,” Amy said, jotting down Bruce’s name in her reporter’s notebook and scribbling down a question mark beside it.

“But, speaking of Bruce — you’re going to be so interested in this piece of gossip, although I’m afraid it’s not actually newsworthy — he’s supposedly fucking Elizabeth Wakefield!” Caroline said, nodding furiously. “Can you believe it? Of course, Todd Wilkins is fucking Ken Matthews, so it was only a matter of time before Elizabeth made some bad decisions, but I really thought she’d give Enid Rollins a go, you know? Elizabeth seems too polite to turn anyone down for sex, regardless of her own sexual orientation. Oh, and I have it on good authority that she cries after every orgasm. Every single one! Can you believe it? I’ve never cried after an orgasm, but you know, my boyfriend lives out of town, so I can’t tell you the last time I actually had an orgasm — well, not one given to me by an actual human being and not something with batteries, anyway—” Hold up, bitch

“Lila was in her underwear?” Elizabeth asked, confused. She fiddled with one of her barrettes.

“Yeah, I can’t believe you didn’t hear about it,” Winston said. “She actually asked this one to marry her!”

Elizabeth turned to Bruce, the tears overflowing down her cheeks. “Is that true?” she asked.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to get all clingy now that we’ve had lots of mind-blowing sex,” Bruce said in a warning tone. Not cool, bro

“Marshall the fifth?” Jessica said into the phone, trying to put on her most sultry voice. “I mean, Stan? It’s me, Elizabeth Wakefield.”

“Elizabeth?” he asked slowly, as if he were trying to place where he remembered her from.

“Yes, Elizabeth,” Jessica said, annoyed, before she remembered that Elizabeth would never take such a tone with anyone, let alone an old man. She cleared her throat and started over, more sweetly this time. “I mean, yes, it’s me, Elizabeth.”

“I don’t—”

“Threesome. Blonde twins. Eyes the color of the Pacific Ocean,” Jessica fired off rapidly. “Crying after every orgasm.” Elizabeth’s Great Idea

“Well then,” Bruce said, coming up behind Elizabeth and placing his hands on her waist, “looks like it’s just you and me.”

Elizabeth nodded, her body stiffening at Bruce’s touch. “Uh, Bruce, I hate to ruin the moment and everything, but is that — is that a can of peaches in your pocket, or—”

“No,” he said, his voice low with desire. “No, it’s not a can of peaches.”

Tears began to roll down Elizabeth’s cheeks as her body was racked with uncontrollable sobs. Stripper fight!

The sun burned into Todd’s pasty, flabby skin. Through his sunglasses, he could discreetly check out Ken’s perfectly sculpted abs as the two of them lounged on their towels.

It’s Elizabeth I love, it’s Elizabeth I love, it’s Elizabeth I love, Todd repeated to himself over and over. Everything I’m doing — spying on her through her windows at night, getting in shape so I can impress her by joining a recreational basketball league, helping Ken get over the pain of losing Olivia sometime in the late 1990s — everything I’m doing is to win back Elizabeth.

But it was getting more and more difficult to convince himself, especially when Ken was lying just inches away from him in nothing but a tiny red bathing suit. Hotness

Five
Sweet Valley

Jessica had picked out the perfect bikini at the Sweet Valley Mall, a stunning turquoise two-piece that complemented her blue-green eyes and showed off her awesome rack. There’s no way Marshall the fifth can resist me in this little number, Jessica thought. He – and his bank account! – won’t know what hit him!

Jessica applied one last coat of mascara. She knew Marshall the fifth was waiting downstairs in his limo, but, as any woman knew, it was best to make a man wait. I make my living making men wait, Jessica thought, smiling wryly.

“Jessica!” Elizabeth called up the stairs. “Are you ready yet? It’s rude to keep your date waiting.”

“When was the last time I didn’t keep a date waiting?” Jessica shot back. She applied a thick layer of lipstick in a deep, vampy shade of red and pursed her lips.

Elizabeth pulled back the curtain and peeked out at the limo parked across the courtyard. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw curtains and blinds quickly snap shut in two of the other condos. Bizarre, Elizabeth thought, shaking her head. Shit’s about to get aaaaaawkward

Four
Sweet Valley

Jessica laughed, a silvery little giggle she sometimes used with clients to make them throw more dollar bills her way. “Oh, Marshall Stanton V, you are just the most fascinating man I’ve ever met in my entire life,” she purred, running a finger up his arm.

Never mind the fact that he’s approaching 70 and has less hair than boring old Todd Wilkins at this point, Jessica thought, shuddering. This fucker is totally loaded!

“As are you,” he replied. “Except you’re not a man. And you’re not even that fascinating. But you are beautiful.”

Jessica caught Lila’s eye and grinned, sticking her tongue out at her best friend as Marshall V turned away to admire one of the many original paintings decorating the walls of Lila Crest. Lila scowled and tipped back her fourth glass of champagne, downing it in one swallow. Indie cred

Post-coital Tristesse

by saucytemptress

One
Sweet Valley

Elizabeth Wakefield packed the last of the belongings from her desk — a framed photo of her family, her well-worn journal, a lone yellow barrette — and took one last look at the newsroom that had, for the past five years, been her home.

Penny Ayala had broken the news to Elizabeth just that morning. With her typical no-nonsense, ball-busting attitude, the editor had called Elizabeth into her office.

“We’re going to an online-only publication,” Penny had said, barely looking up from her computer screen.

Elizabeth’s brow had furrowed in concentration. Ever the seasoned reporter, she’d taken the small, spiral-bound notebook she kept nestled in between her breasts in case of breaking news and started to write down everything Penny was saying. Wakefield twin TMI ahead