FicWad

Note: Well, now that 'A Catastrophe...' is over, this can now be considered its sequel! YAY! I hope you enjoy. It's a slight deviation, but it's rather smexy if I do say so myself. Then again, anything involving these boys is smexy LOL. I'm such a loser.

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"You did what" Musetta squealed as a flustered Fritzi showed up at her suite, looking so disconcerted and wearing yesterday's clothes.

Fritzi twirled a short curl around her finger (she always straightened her hair) and sat primly on the Victorian chaise, the red on her face clashing horribly with her pastel-toned outfit. "I- I- sle- sle-"

Musetta grew tired of her friend's stammering and finished in exasperation, "Slept with a rockstar?"

"YES!" Fritzi hissed, as if people could hear them. "Oh, for the love of... Musetta! I don't know what got into me! Initially gave him my usual cold shoulder, because I don't date musicians-"

"Or at all," the brunette quipped.

"But he caught me in the elevator and, to my absolute horror, it stopped, but we got to talking and he seemed so interested in what I had to say about all these new bands and musicians and he had questions about various articles I've writ-"

"A boy after your own heart, yes dear, I know," Musetta interrupted impatiently again; "You know I'm waiting for the dirty details, love."

Fritzi rolled her eyes. "You really live up to your tabloid name."

"It's my job!"

With a sigh, the blonde continued grudgingly, "We were stuck there for a good hour while the hotel made repairs. Somewhere in that house, he placed a hand on my knee and kissed me!"

Musetta clapped her hands gleefully like a five year old. "Yes, and?" she goaded her on.

"The whole... action utterly caught me off guard, yet it awoke something within me and I just... pounced on William, the poor thing."

"You weigh close to nothing, Fritzi, and- oh! You and your vivid descriptions- no wonder my daddy pays you the big bucks." She winked.

The young journalist let out an exasperated sigh. "Musetta! I can't- I'm-"

"Turning into me?" she smirked. "I taught you well grasshopper."



"Had a good sleep?" Spencer asked Brendon that same morning, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Sorta," he replied nonchalantly, "thought, I could have done without the giggling from Ross's room." Brendon shot an accusatory glare at Saffron from across the room as she nervously paced the floor, cellphone held tightly to her ear. "What's wrong with Spice Girl?" he asked Ryan, one eyebrow raised, then the other.

"Uh- actually, she's sworn me to secrecy," Ryan replied with a sheepish smile. "Until the phone call is over, actually."

Saffron pocketed the phone and shuffled over to their table from behind the outrageous breakfast buffet, a somber expression on her face. "Well." She sighed.

"Well?" Ryan repeated, tugging impatiently on her hand in an effort to pull the girl into the booth.

"Well?" repeated Jon.

A long pause- then suddenly, Saffron took a deep breath and let out the most uncharacteristic squeal, "I GOT IN!"

"Wait, wait, before you two launch into a celebratory make-out session," Spencer interrupted when he saw their heads gravitating towards each other, "/What/?"

Saffron grinned, settling in next to Ryan (and Jon), and across from Spencer and Brendon. "Alright, you know that one time I made you listen to that new rock musical? Spring Awakening?" A slight look of recognition on Spencer's face- "You're looking at its new Wendla!"

The noise at the table grew as the boys toasted their favorite ingénue and conversation went on as usual until Jon looked up from his muffin, "Wait, the play with onstage sex?" At this question, Ryan's eyes snapped to the girl while he continued to drink his coffee, doing his best not to perform a spit take on his girlfriend's nice black Victorian top.

Saffron shifted uncomfortably. "I thought you knew, Ryan," she mumbled before delicately shoving some buttered toast into her mouth.

Brendon promptly saluted Jon, smirking as he said, "Way to open a can of worms, my friend."



Fritzi congratulated herself on getting a good interview from both Jon and Brendon. No, she was not going to let her unfortunately wonderful one-night-stand get in the way of her work. The blonde sat quietly backstage as everyone rehearsed, flipping through her precious notepad, transferring her neat scribbles to her laptop. Yes, she was focused and organized and, oh dear lordy, he was standing there before her, hair all a mess, leather jacket rolled up to her elbows, mile-long legs covered in tight, faded denim, a smile playing across those beautiful l- NO. She was going to smile politely in return and carry on with her business as if she hadn't been -

"Pixie," he greeted her with a curt nod of his head before taking a swig of his water bottle.

Fritzi stared at him for a moment, for once, unable to come up with a witty response. "Hello, Beckett," she said primly, returning her gaze to her laptop screen. Her green eyes squinted and almost glared at her letters (Times New Roman), words (long and complicated), and sentences (cold and witty with the occasional compliment). She looked terribly serious, though her heart raced beneath her pale green, puffed sleeved sweater. There was a peculiar twisting feeling within her stomach as she glanced up at him briefly before returning to her work.

With an amused expression on his face, William slipped into the chair next to her, taking another swig of his water. Last night proved his suspicions that a ferocious wildcat lurked beneath her prim and pastel exterior. No, he hadn't meant to actually sleep with her, but who was he to deny the urging of an eager young woman? With a playful grin, he slowly reached under the table and slid a long hand onto her smooth knee, pushing he knee- length plaid skirt up her thigh just a few centimeters.

He's testing you... Fritzi's breath caught in her throat and she flushed a deep shade of red, though managing enough composure to continue typing as if he was not molesting her leg. Her glare at the computer intensified as that pink mouth of hers scrunched up to one side of her face. The cheeky bastard is testing you! she thought angrily.

He began humming quietly to himself as his fingered danced up her inner thigh. Immediately, she snatched his hand and pulled it out from under the table, her fingernails, though cut short, digging into his palm. Before she could snap at him, her lips found his and, well, for once, Fritzi told her brain to shut up.





Brendon and Jon watched in amusement as Saffron and Ryan (or SAFFRYAN, their new portmanteau) had a bit of a lovers' squabble.

"... Onstage sex, Saff!"

"Ryan! You're being immensely childish. It's like a nip flash and the lights go down."

With an eyebrow hop as he leaned against the wall in the dressing room, Brendon had to cut in, "Ooh! Nip flash?" He grinned as they both glared at him through the mirror. Jon, meanwhile, began to crack up at all this.

"SAAAAAFRON," Ryan sighed, setting down his makeup brush, for a moment, "onstage sex!" He let out another sigh. "I'm not trying to ask you to quit, of course, you're-"

"Ryan, you're acting as if it's actually me, Saffron, up there, having sex. It's Wendla doing the deed, not me." She rolled her eyes as Jon went "awww." "Besides, you have talented, though scantily-clad, crotch in the air dancers and you don't see me complaining."

Ryan, in the middle of drawing a lightning bolt, opened his mouth to respond, but found her point valid.

"This is true," Jon chimed in, stating the obvious as usual. Ryan looked at Saffron and Saffron looked at Ryan and Jon put his arms around both their shoulders and said, "Alright now, hug and be cutesy so all will be right in the world again."




Musetta, on her way to the concert, lazily picked up her cellphone. "Hello?" she sang.

"Musetta darling, are you busy?"

Her face fell, though she continued on with false cheeriness, "Roger! Oh, I'm on my way to meet Fritzi."

"Oh, right, about that. You are traveling to Boston tomorrow, correct? I have business to take care of there. Shall we meet for a late dinner?"

The socialite smiled tersely. "Yes, of course."