Title: How Mark Got Her Flip Flops

Pairing:Chris/Dusty,slight Mark/Eduarda (All characters genderswapped)

Rating: PG-13

Word Count:805

Summary: Broken mugs, Shark Week, and cuddling.

A/N: So this is pretty ridiculous, but it's 5 in the morning so I like it. A million thanks to Bonnie for helping me out with this and for being amazing.

  After a day of classes duller than she had imagined possible, Dusty wanted nothing more than to relax. Unfortunately, she guessed that that would probably be impossible between Mark’s asking her the most random questions about how to talk to girls she liked, (seriously, how was Dusty supposed to know about Prada? What about her wardrobe said that she knew anything about fashion whatsoever? She supposed that she was better off than Mark, at least, who had a strange habit of forgetting to put on shoes before she left the house, terming them a low priority) and the project she had due next week, which kept getting pushed to the side because of work for thefacebook. 

Once she got home, Dusty stuck her head in the door, threw her bag in the general direction of her desk, and smiled. Chris was lounging on the couch in shorts and a tank top while sharks swam across the tv screen. Just as she was about to pounce on her girlfriend with suddenly renewed energy, a large shattering sound could be heard from somewhere to the left, and Chris jumped so suddenly she almost hit her head on the back of the couch while they both screamed at the noise. 

“Shit, what the hell was that? Oh, and you’re back, I see.” Chris asked, her expression somewhere between joy and confusion, while they went to investigate the sound.

“Yup, I’m back. Sorry for interrupting shark week with my bag, I know how dedicated you are to the- fuck! I liked that mug!” Dusty started muttering while she attempted to pick up the shattered pieces of her “Economists do it with models” mug, throwing the pieces into the trash can until one cut her finger open. She immediately stuck it in her mouth, her eyes saying that if she could, she would be pouting right about now. 

Once Chris asked if she was okay and obliged Dusty’s request to ‘kiss it better’, they returned to the couch. Dusty settled her arm around Chris,nuzzling her shoulder as  if she were a puppy. Chris kissed her forehead in response, and they settled against each other after tangling their feet together with the occasional giggle. After a few more minutes of snuggling while watching sharks, Dusty seemed to remember the burst of energy that she’d had before their mini-crisis, and promptly began trailing kisses down Chris’ neck, smirking against her skin when she gave a small shudder. 

“Someone’s mood seems to have improved.” Chris met Dusty’s lips with her own, kissing her while doing her best to make room for Dusty to climb on top of her. Dusty brushed Chris’ hair behind her ear and smiled down at her, the quiet smile that was seen too rarely, before it transformed into her trademark grin and Chris’ tank top was unceremoniously tossed on the floor next to the pile of red bull.

“Someone had a beautiful girl waiting on her couch. And lots of candy during calc.” Dusty let her shirt join Chris’ on the floor before removing Chris’ bra.

While the girls on the couch were otherwise occupied, Mark rummaged through her backpack for her keys, having realized that she should probably be wearing shoes, despite how much she hated them, before she saw Eduarda today (the girl, whose father had desperately wanted a boy, was strangely named but intoxicating like no one Mark had ever met before) As she turned the knob and walked inside, she became instantly aware of three things: Chris and Dusty were making out on the couch, again, this time they weren’t wearing shirts, and the third and most important thing;a sharp, burning pain just cut right down the middle of her left foot. 

Normally, Mark wasn’t one for screaming, as she preferred deadpan snarkiness to announcing her presence, but now she let out a shriek that, even if it couldn’t be heard across campus like it seemed it could, was certainly loud enough to scare Chris and Dusty into falling off of the couch in a heap.

“Oh my God, Mark, are you okay? Shit, I’m so sorry, my mug broke and I totally forgot and you don’t wear shoes and-”

“Dusty. Chair. Shirts. Help. Please?” Mark spoke through gritted teeth in short, choppy words until the girls dressed and scrambled to retrieve the requested items. In addition to a small first aid kit, Chris returned with a small pair of black Adidas flip flops. As she began cleaning the wound, she offered them to Mark.

“Here, I hardly ever use these, and I think you probably need them a lot more than I do. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before, but hopefully you’ll wear these more often than you wear real shoes.”