Best Supporting Portrayal of Tess Harding
Funniest Fanfic
After a rather upsetting experience, I needed some major *fluff*, and finally felt comfortable enough to post this fic...Hope you enjoy.
Author: Raychel
Summary: Isabel Harding had always said that she’d marry rich and live happily ever after. But her sister, Tess, and two best friends, Maria DeLuca and Liz Parker, thought she was nothing but deluded. Yet, when Isabel snags herself a multi-billionaire, the one and only Alex Whitman, her friends begin to wonder if she wasn’t so delusional after all. Awe-struck by Isabel’s luck, Tess, Maria, and – albeit a bit reluctantly – Liz, embark on dating journeys and discover that some things are just better….rich.
Rating: TEEN
Category: ML (but Candy, Stargazer, and Lamptrimmer friendly)
Disclaimer: Characters of Roswell do not belong to me, and neither does the quote I’m using as the title. I have no idea who that belongs to, so...
Author’s Note: Isabel and Tess are sisters. This makes it so that Max and Isabel are not related, and in no way affiliated with each other. Though all main characters will play a role in this fic, it will mainly be a Dreamer story. The style of writing I’m using in this fic is different from any style I’ve ever used before (Different from Absence). I don’t know how that will affect the quality, but I’m hoping you enjoy it. Also, I’m sorry, but you guys won’t get the whole 11-15 pages to read like you did in Absence….
Some of you may or may not be happy with this. But writing that many pages took a long time, and it made it easier for my mind to stray. So, the most you’ll get is probably 10, and no less than 5. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy. 
…This fic has to be dedicated to Sarah*Marie for her endless threats to my muse, freakin’ Sofia. Without her, this fic may never have been written. Ever.
Title: “Coffee, Chocolate, & Men…”
Banner by: mrsjbehr
<center>Part One</center>
They made quite a sight together. Three best friends, lounging quite unlady-like in their chairs, with the skirts of their pastel yellow gowns hiked up to their knees in an effort to cool down their over heated legs. Two blondes and a lone brunette sat in compatible silence, relishing in a few moments of relaxation. The night had been exhausting.
The staff over seeing the wedding reception had all left upon cleaning up the messes left by the guests. Tables had been cleared of dishes and food particles, and the floor had been mopped of smashed pieces of cake and chunks of vomit from an over zealous drinker who liked to do the Hokey Pokey. Everyone had left, and now it was just the three of them.
A deep, tired sigh passed between one blonde’s lips. Her sea green eyes glimmered with exhaustion as she tried to suppress a yawn with a fist to her gaping mouth. “My feet hurt.” She mumbled almost incoherently past her yawn.
There was a beat of silence and then, “Yeah, well my butt hurts.”
“And I can’t breathe.” The third friend pathetically chimed.
Her complaint elicited a feminine chuckle. “You really shouldn’t have eaten all of that cake.”
“I know,” Tess Harding sighed miserably and clutched at her stomach; that third piece had been the killer. She then lifted her azure gaze to stare at her friends imploringly. “Will someone please unzip me?”
“I would, but my feet hurt.”
Tess rolled her eyes at Maria’s incessant reminder. “Liz?” She asked hopefully, and rolled her head around to gaze at the petite brunette. She tucked out her bottom lip for a helpless effect, and then smiled endearingly. “Help a friend out?”
“I suppose getting off my butt will help in ceasing the pain.” Liz murmured as she hefted herself out of the dinner chair. Her butt practically sighed with relief from being released from the pressure of her slight weight.
The skirt of Liz’s flowing gown rustled as it brushed against the gleaming tile floor. Tess leaned forward in her chair, and waited impatiently for the pressure to dissipate. The scratching sound of a descending zipper echoed throughout the empty room, followed promptly by an exaggerated sigh of relief.
Tess leaned back in her seat and gripped Liz’s hand in her own. Her eyes drooped sleepily, and she offered her best smile – showing off her glittering, pearly whites. “Thanks, Lizzie. You’re the best.”
“Hey, new update,” Maria spoke up. “My feet still hurt.”
“Yeah, well, I told you not to sing in those heels,” Tess retorted in an admonishing tone as she turned partially in her chair to regard Maria. “Now stop complaining.”
There was a brief moment of silence as Maria contemplated her performance, and then, “Did I sound okay?” Came her fretful inquiry. Being in front of a crowd – no matter how small or large – always unnerved her. She wondered if she had been at the top of her game; she should have been, if not for herself, then for her best friend.
“You sounded marvelous,” Liz answered honestly, and with a tired smile. She leaned against the dinner table, instead of sitting back down. The chairs were cushioned, but even the softness had caused her butt to fall asleep from sitting so long. “I’m sure Isabel will love you for it.”
“She had better,” Maria murmured good-naturedly, and kicked off the offending heels. She sighed, and wiggled her toes in exaggerated relief. “It wasn’t fun watching you guys enjoy the dance floor all evening.”
“You volunteered.” Tess pointed out, and reached behind her for the half piece of cake still left on the table. Her dress was unzipped after all; she could probably fit in a few more bites.
“Besides,” Liz added with a scowl. “I wasn’t enjoying the dance floor. I sat on my butt all night watching everyone else.”
“Hey, that’s your fault,” It was Maria this time, and she narrowed her eyes condescendingly at the pretty brunette. “I noticed several guys – hot guys, might I add – come up and ask you to dance. You shot down everyone of them.”
“One of them asked me to dance during the Hokey Pokey,” Liz deadpanned, and then rolled her eyes in exasperation. “And the other two asked me to dance during those hip hop songs. You know I can’t dance.”
“She’s right,” Tess commiserated through a mouthful of chocolate cake. “She really doesn’t have any rhythm.”
There was a moment of silence as the three friends absorbed the events of the day. Just four hours ago, they witnessed the fourth member of their group – Isabel Harding – say “I do” to the man she supposedly loves.
The term “supposedly” is used because Isabel is notorious for her unrealistic expectations for the men she’s dated in the past. And somehow, Alexander Charles Whitman just didn’t fit the mold. Isabel is into the tall, dark, and intense type – the kind that just oozes masculinity and sex. Alex just didn’t fit that label; not in the conventional way at least.
He’s a sweet guy, and all the girls absolutely adore him. But he’s also a goofball; he’s too quirky for Isabel’s taste. There’s no doubt that he’s quite attractive, but in that endearingly unsure-of-himself kind of way. Alex is just more of a girl’s best friend than Isabel’s boyfriend – and now husband. He’s the guy who’ll sit down and watch an eternity of chick flicks and enjoy them. There have been many a night when they all watched an endless marathon of Knotting Hill, and he had fit right in, commiserating with them, and passing along the Kleenexes. Thus is why it was so baffling to find out that Isabel was dating him, and – later – that she planned on marrying him.
Until it was discovered that he is reportedly worth 45.2 billion dollars.
Alex is the creator of new computer software that rivals Bill Gates’ Windows. Next to Mr. Gates, Alex is the second richest man in the world. And Isabel had snagged him.
A small crinkle formed on Liz’s forehead as she pondered. Was that the only reason she had married Alex? For his endless amount of money?
Concerned, Liz took a breath, and staring straight ahead, asked, “Do you think she really loves him?”
Up until that point, the large reception area had been utterly silent. The question seemed to bounce off the walls, booming and reverberating in loud proportions.
Her question had come out so softly that her friends were momentarily unsure if she had spoken at all. But when Liz looked them very pointedly, they knew she had indeed asked.
To some the question may not seem all that important – who cares what people do with their lives? But to Liz , the type of person who had ventured to the movie theatre twelve times just to see “A Walk to Remember” and then cried her eyes out each time, the question weighs prettily heavily. Liz Parker is a self-proclaimed romantic. Her world is seen through rose tinted glasses, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Liz turned to face her friends upon their silence. Her gown rustled against the floor with her movement, swaying gently. Maria and Tess glanced warily at each other before returning their gazes back to Liz.
“Well?” Liz prompted softly, and was suddenly overcome with uneasiness. It was never any secret that Isabel had wanted to marry rich, so that she may never had to lift a finger ever again. But it was never expected for her to actually find that person, and in someone was sweet as Alex Whitman who deserved to be loved in return.
Finally, after deliberative silence, Maria stood from where she sat at the oblong dinner table. She grimaced at the painful protest of her sore soles, and limped over to her friend.
Her lush, golden hair was piled high atop her head, with only a few tendrils escaping to frame her face. She pierced Liz with her green gaze, and offered her a reassuring smile.
“Of course she does, sweetie,” Maria answered and engulfed Liz in a friendly embrace. Liz wrapped her arms around Maria, needing that comfort that only a best friend could offer. “Iz wouldn’t jump into a marriage unless she truly loved him.”
Yet, Liz didn’t feel the sincerity in her answer. The skepticism in Maria’s voice was apparent; it was as if she was not entirely sure if she were lying to Liz or not. So, instead, Liz turned to the one person who may know Isabel best of all.
“Tess?” Liz uttered softly. Her friend’s blue gaze slowly fluttered to meet hers. “She’s your sister. What do you think?”
If there was one thing that Liz admired most about Tess Harding, it was her brutal honesty. She was never one to try and sugar coat anything in an effort to spare feelings. There was no reason for her to be dishonest with Liz now.
As she silently regarded her, Liz came to realize that her impending answer didn’t appear too promising. “Tess?”
Finally, Tess met Liz’s gaze head on, and Liz held her breath. “No,” Her friend whispered. “No, Liz. The only thing that lured Isabel to Alex was his bank account.”
And all of Liz’s romantic illusions crumbled down around her. She had believed that Isabel was living a real life fairy tale. She had perceived Alex as Isabel’s Prince Charming, galloping in on his white horse – or cruising in a black jaguar, whatever – to save Cinderella (Isabel) from a life that should have meant more to her. However, it became glaringly apparent that instead of playing the part of Cinderella, Isabel has played the part of one of the evil stepsisters, plotting the ways in which she could snag herself Mr. Rich.
Well, if that wasn’t a slap in the face…
“Now, Liz,” Maria tried to intercede and perform some major damage control. “Surely, Isabel wouldn’t do something like that. Granted, she’s always had such high expectations for her potential boyfriends, and she really is quite –“
“Shallow?” Tess suggested slyly.
“Fickle,” Maria corrected pointedly, her glare blazing heatedly in Tess’s direction before she returned her softened gaze back to Liz. “But Isabel wouldn’t have married Alex unless she loved him.”
“Oh, c’mon,” Tess laughed. “I think I know my sister a little better than the two of you, okay?” She crossed her pale arms over her torso and regarded Liz solemnly. “Listen, babe, I’m sorry, okay? But Isabel married Alex for his money – nothing more, nothing less.”
“Tess, you’re not helping,” Maria hissed viciously, and then turned and gripped Liz’s shoulders in her hands, forcing Liz to meet her gaze. “Liz, don’t listen to her sweetie. She’s just jealous.”
Tess snorted outright at Maria’s response, but didn’t say anything else. Liz gazed over Maria’s shoulders and at Tess, silently searching for answers. “So, you’re saying that Isabel is incapable of having any loving feelings whatsoever?” She inquired.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” Tess corrected, and then subtly lifted a slender shoulder. “I know for a fact that Izzy is capable of such feelings, especially if it comes in the form of paper and/or plastic, and can buy her sparking jewels and Louis Vuitton handbags.”
Maria hissed out another admonishing “Tess,” as Liz lightly shook her head.
It wasn’t as if Liz had never been disappointed in Isabel during the course of their friendship, but this new information takes the cake. How could Isabel do something like that? How could she utter such eternal vows, make a life long commitment, without loving him?
“Listen,” Tess muttered softly and stood from her chair to reach Liz’s side. Her eyes softened and it became clear that she wanted to try to make amends. But how can she fix something like this? “I’m not saying that Isabel can’t or even won’t come to love Alex eventually. I’m just saying I don’t think she does right now. That’s all.”
Liz forced a smile, and nodded mutely. Not even the knowledge of the possibility of blossoming love was reassuring at that point. Liz’s rose tinted glasses have been ripped from her face, thrown to ground, and stomped on by expensive stiletto heels. And it sucked.
“C’mon, Lizzie,” Maria whispered and looped her arm companionably through Liz’s. “Lets go home, slip into our pajamas, and watch sad chick flicks until we can’t cry another tear. It’s what Isabel would want us to do.”
Liz rolled her eyes at Maria’s dramatics, but laughed despite the situation. Tess looped her arm through Liz’s free one, and she gave her a tender squeeze. “Sounds good, doesn’t it?” She asked, smiling.
And she couldn’t help but nod in agreement. Because it did sound good – anything sounded good in the company of friends.
<center>* * *</center>
Café Chocolate was the name of the girls’ prospering café. Just as the name signifies, they offer caffeine in the forms of liquid and hard chocolates, and they’re a big hit.
It was a pretty risky step for the four of them to put their pennies together and open up a café right in the middle of the Starbucks craze, but, luckily, they had survived. And their decision has proven to be worthwhile. The bottom floor of the three-story warehouse has been renovated to emit that welcoming French café feel. The two upper floors consist of the living quarters. With a living room, kitchenette, bedrooms, and two baths, it was quite quaint. By no means were the girls rich from the earnings of their business, but they did live comfortably.
Tess opened the door to the apartment and trudged inside, with Maria and Liz right behind her. She flipped on the overhead light, and the room brightened vibrantly. Home. Liz smiled and stepped past Maria and Tess, intent on heading to her room and changing into some pajamas when – suddenly – she just stopped.
It promptly struck her that something was out of place. Liz was an obsessive compulsive; she has a sixth sense for these things. Everything has a specific place and order, and something was obviously not where it should be.
Her caramel eyes squinted into slits as she walked in a slow circle just inside the foyer. What was it?
She scanned the foyer, and then peered to where it opened into the kitchenette and dining area. Nothing. She took a step forward, determined to find the source of the hackles at the back of her neck. Tess and Maria watched on, no strangers to their friend’s odd behavior when it came to her sense of something being out of place. They would often tease her about it.
“What is it, Lassie?” Tess quipped at that very moment, as she followed Liz into the living room. Liz could hear the grin in her voice, rather than actually see it. “What is it, girl?”
Liz ignored her, and the snicker from Maria, and didn’t spare them a glance over her shoulder for a much deserved eye roll. She just kept going, her eyes searching dutifully. And then she saw them, sitting prettily on her wrought iron coffee table, with a sleek glass surface.
“Gifts!” Liz exclaimed excitedly and raced toward the three white gift bags placed on the table. The “racing” part was not easily done in three-inch heels and a bride’s maid gown, but Liz still got to them before either Tess or Maria, and she gave a triumphant, victorious squeal.
She knelt down onto the hard wood floor with no regards to the expensive gown. After all, it’s not like she ever intended on wearing the stupid thing again. And she hurriedly looked over the three bags. There were no names to indicate which gift belonged to whom, so she snatched one just as Maria and Tess reached the table.
Calm over took her then, and she gingerly took out the white tissue paper and peered inside. Inside each respective bag were a box of chocolates, a coffee mug with coffee mix, and the last – much to the chagrin of Liz – a calendar of naked men.
“Hot damn!” Tess exclaimed as she sifted through the pages of the calendar, letting loose a shrill, appreciative whistle. “Hellooo, Mr. January. I’ll be seeing you in my dreams tonight.”
Liz’s face flushed even redder. God! Even her friends embarrassed her.
“Oh, Mr. September has my vote,” Maria chimed and peered over Tess’s shoulder, even though she clutched her own calendar to her chest. “Holy hell. Thank you, Isabel.” She murmured gravely.
Liz rolled her eyes, because that was all she could do to keep from launching her calendar into the fireplace. So, instead of partaking in the heavenly vision of naked men, she opened her box of chocolates and plucked a piece into her mouth. Oh, coconut. Yum.
“Hey, there’s a card.” Tess garnered Liz and Maria’s attention and bent down to pick up a white envelop from the coffee table. She ripped it open and pulled out a card. Liz barely got a glimpse of Isabel’s slanted handwriting before Tess began to read aloud.
“To my favorite girls:
Coffee, chocolate, and men…Some things are just better rich.
Love,
Izzy”
Tess allowed Isabel’s written words to hang in the air as she stared at Liz over the card. She didn’t say anything; though, she didn’t have to because her eyes said it all. I told you so. Liz frowned, but steadily returned her gaze.
Finally, Tess set down the card, only to return her sparkling eyes back to the calendar. She smiled wistfully. “Sugar plums and naked men shall dance through my head.”
TBC...Now remember folks, my beta is on vacay, so forgive my errors.
Hope you enjoyed.
Raychel
No worries guys.
I'm not sure if I can do the nookie part! *sigh* I'm such a freakin' wuss!! ...but, we'll see. 
