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Title: Meatloaf Sandwich
Pairing: Pepper/OFC
Rating: R
Genre: Femmeslash
Warnings: Angst with a hopeful ending, some brief suicidal thoughts, fluff, implied sex - and more meatloaf!
Summary: Two related ficlets, one angsty with a hopeful ending, the other fluffy and happy. Pepper and her beloved spend time together, under two different sets of circumstances.
Notes: The title is inspired by a song called "Meatball Sandwich" that Joey Ramone wrote and which is on the "Ramones - The Family Tree" compilation album. I wanted a slightly humorous title as the first ficlet has some dark subject matter in it and I wanted to draw attention to the hopeful mood of Part 2.

Dedicated to my darling friend Mii-Mii Ramone!

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, I'm just borrowing them. I am not making money out of this - suing is futile!

Part One

Everything seems perfect; I have brought a picnic basket filled with things that both Pepper and I enjoy. All the food has been made at home by me - crispy fried chicken and creamy potato salad, chocolate chip cookies that always smell so divine, fudge and peanut brittle that had been carefully hand-crafted the night before, and of course my darling's favorite meatloaf sandwiches on freshly baked bread.

Her eyes are wide with wonder and pleasure as she observes me setting the table for the two of us. The orderly watching us, who I have paid off so that Pepper can move to sit on my lap if she so wishes, helps himself to some of the chicken and lolls against the wall, gnawing away at it leisurely. I tolerate this because he never says a word about my love and I, and never even judges us with his eyes. I even find myself feeling a little sorry for him, although I don't know why.

My beloved devours everything I give her, washing it all down with gulps of sweet, fresh milk, and I smile to see her so happy; these simple but tasty dishes must seem like an exquisite feast to her after the dreadful stuff they must feed her here at the asylum.

I, however, cannot bring myself to touch a bite, because behind my smile, my heart is breaking.

After our meal I will have to leave my angelic little love behind. I am not able to undress her and worship her with my hands and mouth any more, and she will sleep alone in a cold little bed tonight, her only comforts being the warm quilt and blankets I have brought as gifts for her today.

There are times I wish I were dead; only being allowed to visit her like this helps me to stay alive.

Sometimes I think about asking Sister Jude, who runs this horrible place, if I could be admitted as a patient here too. But that nun would probably see right through me with those cold eyes of hers. She would make sure that Pepper and I were kept separated if I lived here too, I'm certain of it.

Besides, fine ladies from wealthy families don't get sent to places like Briarcliff. We wind up in private sanatoriums that are more like luxury resorts than mental hospitals. I am sure that is where I would have gone if the hope against hope that some day I will be with my sweet Pepper again for always did not burn fiercely in my heart.

I have hope, and I have her with me for now. That alone will have to suffice to keep me sane and strong.

Part Two

The sun blazes as brightly as the lights did when I was taken into the spaceship in the sky, but my darling and I are comfortable on our picnic blanket beneath a shady tree. Nobody else is around for miles - this place is our very own home, after all. All these acres of beautiful green farmland belong to me, and to Pepper too, because I am completely hers, now and forever.

She looks so cute in her little white shorts and pink T-shirt with a picture of a cartoon kitten on it - the cat actually has a ribbon on her head, tied around a curl of fur to make a top-knot that resembles Pepper's own. When she saw that, Pepper got such a case of the giggles that only a kiss from me could halt them. Some people might think that T-shirt would be too childish for a woman Pepper's age, but she told me that she absolutely loves it. The shirt is store-bought, but I sewed the shorts myself, and of course they fit her perfectly.

Our miracle has occurred; she has been freed from that accursed asylum and returned to my loving arms. As I rest against the tree, Pepper snuggles up to me while we both tuck into a feast of all our favorite picnic foods. She adores everything I make for her, but as always her favorite items of food are the plentiful and delicious meatloaf sandwiches. Of course, the bread was baked just this very morning, and the meatloaf is made from my own special recipe. Pepper says that I make the best meatloaf in the world, and I hope that I don't appear to be too vain when I say that I believe her.

Everything tastes wonderful, and we eat until we are too full to touch another bite. But my own hunger is now for the salt-sweetness between my darling Pepper's thighs, and I wait patiently until the moment she desires to feel my mouth upon her.

She is smiling at me in that innocent yet seductive way of hers, and I know for certain she will crave me very soon.

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Sweet Carol Anne
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Schlitzie Ramone

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