Title: Gríma's Big Night Out

Author: ZeDrippyVessel

Fandom: LOTR/HP

Rating: PG13

Warnings: I'm just sick

Beta: My beta couldn't stop laughing long enough to give me any feed back, so you guys are on your own!


Disclaimer Gríma ain't mine - Thank God! Thank God! Hal-muse and Snape- baby, while resembling certain characters from certain books, are really unique beings of their own... okay so they are clones! Shoot me!

Feedback: Are you kidding? Hell yes!

Archiving: EC. NF. WOC, LAF, OEAM, anywhere else - let me know

Summary/Notes: Some moron entered me in a "Win a date with Gríma" contest and the only way to get out of it was to submit a short story on the premise that you - the writer and he - the original Slime Ball from Hell - were on a balcony together observing the sunset. This is my entry. (Oh, for those who don't know - Baraer is Elvish for "Fiery One."



The woman stood at the balcony, the cool breeze blowing through her hair. the scent of evening primrose on the air. She was aware of being watched, being stalked and she smiled inwardly, knowing he never allowed her out of his sight. The night showed promise and she was glad she had worn her black lace garters with matching bustier under her dress.

She was not aware of the slime ball approaching her from the opposite side.

"My dear." the voice dripped venom, oozed vomitous chills, "long have I watched you. Long have I desired to touch your pulse." Gríma's clammy hand slid sinuously over hers, which had now clenched the balcony railing.

Her eyes slid sideways, to the tortured dreamer. Whose nightmare had she walked into? She jerked her hands from under his and wiped them on her voluminous skirts.

"Excuse me? Gríma, have you gone blind? Hal-Muse will kill you!" She waved him off into the direction of the trees. "Go play with yourself. Leave me be!" She returned her attention to the beautiful sunset.

He was not to be deterred. "My love, my darling, please, I beseech thee..." His hand reached for her cheek...

"Gríma!" the words were ground out between gritted teeth. "Put on your glasses! I am NOT Eowyn!" Again, she jerked her hand from under his and attempted to step away from the slime ball. "She is dancing with Faramir and Legolas. You may go get in line!" She waved her hand towards the ballroom, in attempt to not only direct him, but to also shake his touch from her skin.



As if you actually had a chance! she thought to herself sarcastically. More of a chance with Eowyn than with her. I have Hal-Muse and Snape-baby! Like they would allow a third - especially THAT third - near her. Truthfully, the two volatile muses barely tolerated each other.

She found herself thrown against the wall, her body crushing the flowers, those lips sinking closer to her mouth. "Please, my love, I kno...ooof!" Gríma saw stars fly around his eyes, as her knee effectively buried itself in his teeeeeeeny tiny family jewels. She pushed him backwards and began to scream at the top of her lungs.

"Where the HELL are my muses who are supposed to keep me occupied?"

Very quickly, Hal-Muse, resplendent in black velvet and diamond ear cuffs ran to the balcony, 2 goblets of sweet berry wine in each hand. "My love, I went to fetch you a cool drink. You were accosted by this... this... this... reject of an Orc?"

"HE TOUCHED ME!!!"

"Well, that was not very smart!" Hal-Muse handed both goblets to his Baraer and stood over the jittery mass of jello. "I suppose I shall have to stand him in front of a tree and commence target practice."

At that moment, Gríma began to stammer, plead, and beg, in a loud and most unbecoming voice, for his worthless life. It was not a very pretty sight and the Woman giggled at his foolishness. They did not see the fourth party enter the balcony.

"SILENCE!" All looked at the dark visage, the tall, dark robed one that was the Potions Master, the immortal Snape-Baby. "I leave for 10 minutes to stir a cauldron and look at the chaoat eat ensues!" He turned his attention to the Woman. "What did this pathetic scrap do?"

"He tried to kiss me. YRCH!"

Snape-Baby turned angry black orbs towards Hal-Muse. "We had an agre..."

"Not Hal! Gríma!" She gestured angrily to the floor.


Snape- baby, focused his dark attention towards the still quivering mass of goo on the floor of the balcony.

Gríma wet his pants.

Snape-baby smiled an evil smile. "I have a potion brewing in the dungeon. I would love to try it out on him..."

"Noooo, please, mercy, I beg thee!"

Hal-Muse arched a delicate eyebrow. "Nay. I have promised to use him as target practice." He propped one leather booted foot on the sprawled Original Greaser.

Snape-Baby coiled inward, pulling himself nose to nose with the large, muscle bound Elf. "No, I need a guinea pig for this potion!"

"Potion-smotion! I say archery practice!"

"Either back down, Elf, or I will shove my wand stra up up your..."

"Hey! That is getting personal, you twit!"

The Elf and the Wizard were toe to toe, eye to eye, nose to nose.

"Just see if I have her take that potion that made her scream for you all night again."

"Hmmmm - that was a good potion!" The Elf sagely thought outloud. "But still... I was here first! What could be so wonderful about thotiootion you are brewing?"

Snape-baby looked around in a conspiratorial manner, smiling maliciously. "It will make him grow warts on his..." his finger pointed downward towards his crotch. "And whenever he gets... excited, little mouths will erupt from the warts and they will whistle Dixie!"

"NO!" Hal-Muse voice was incredulous and he laughed despite himself. "Perhaps, you could administer the potion, we force him to look at Play-Elf magazine and then I can use the WARTS for target practice..." The two Muses heads were together, conspiring gleefully with each other.

Gríma attempted to crawl from under the leather boot of the beautiful Elf. Just as he rolled away, another foot came down on him.

He looked into HER eyes, fear, returning full force.

"You hear what they have in store for you?" Gríma whimpered. "Did you hear what I did to that MOST unfortunate Dragon?" Gríma whimpered again. She looked at the two Muses, deep in conversation, planning, plotting....

It was why she loved them. They were soooo good at whatever they concocted. She returned her attention to the shaking moron at her feet. "I suspect it will be - oh at least - 5 minutes before they finish their planning. I suggest you high-tail it over that railing and run for your life." Gríma nodded his agreement. She reached down and grasped him by the chin, her fingers cruelly cutting into his pale, clammy flesh.

"Don't EVER come back!" She kissed the air above him and shoved him towards the railing...


***

tbc

***

Was this single fic worthy of getting me OUT of the date?

Unfortunately, no. Our list mum was particularly vexed at 3 people- of which I was one - for changing the piccie on our Haldir site to one of Grima while she was gone on vacation. Apparently, I bounced the bunny therefore -I was forced to go to the next round as one of the final three...

Title: Gríma's Beach Holiday
Author: ZeDrippyVessel
Fandom: LOTR
Sequel to Grima's big night out
Rating: PG
Beta: Are you nuts? They ran the minutes they saw the word "Gríma"

Disclaimer 1; I'm not Tolkien, I don't pretend to be the Great one, I didn't sell this, yada yada yada Don't waste your time coming after my finances, as I have none.. My OFC is mine.

Feedback: please, whore that I am

Summary/Notes Grima rescues our lovely heroine and expects who knows what!

Somehow, I made the "short" list - the final 3 for Win a Date with Grima. I do NOT want to win!


***
I woke up, groggy, disoriented, a bad taste in my mouth. Still half asleep, I held my hand out, reaching for my security, my partners, my muses...

My lovers.

"Hal-Muse? Snape-Baby?" Their bodies did not have me sandwiched between them, the open air, foreign on my skin.

"They are not here." My eyes flew open and I awoke fully to the horrid silk of a voice that interrupted my reverie. It can't be, it couldn't be....

It was.

Gríma.

Quickly, I jumped back, rolling away from him. I rubbed my eyes. Oh what a wretched party that must have been and I definitely drank too much. I delved deep within my mind, trying desperately to remember who had plied me with so much wine?

Neither had.

I - we - had been on a casino barge in Mississippi, when the three of us had decided to call it a night. My lovers had left, to make the room more - love friendly - and I had stayed to cash in our earnings. But the lights had gone out and I had been hit on the head.

I glared at Gríma.

"What did you do to me?"

He licked his thin lips nervously. Ah yes, he knew to be nervous. Hal-Muse and Snape-Baby were not to be toyed with, not to be angered. Although they fought between themselves like two feuding girls, when it came to me, they were on a shared mission.

I was taken. Spoken for. Not to be trifled with or pawed or drooled on - except by them!

"I did nothing, m'lady. I... I... rescued you."

"You did what? You rescued me?" He nodded his head feverently. "What, pray tell, did you rescue me from?"

"There was an accident. A large tanker collided with the barge and drug it into the Gulf."

"Gríma! I am not stupid. The barge is tied to the dock!"

The greasy man shrugged. " "tis the truth. A large... tanker was drag racing another one and it slid into the dock, knocking the barge into the Gulf. It sank and I rescued you. See?" He pointed out to the water, where I could see a partially sunk casino barge, bright flags drooping in the still air.

"Well! Where is land?"

"I don't know. But..." he grinned, feral eyes sparkling dully, "a helicopter did fly over and hollered they could rescue us in a week."

"A WEEK?" I screamed. "A week? NO! NO! This can NOT be happening!" I jumped up and began to pace the small, sandy shore of the island. "How am I supposed to survive for a week with no food, nothing to read, no Hal-Muse, no Snape-Baby."

"But... but... look! They threw down survival boxes." He pointed to 2 large boxes in the sand. "I... waited for you to awake, so you could have your pick." He smiled, trying to cajole, to placate me.

I would not be swayed. I glared at him and opened the two boxes, scanning the contents of both. After looking my fill, I shoved one towards him.


"That's yours." I exclaimed. "It's a weeks supply of unflavored lembas, a sand shovel, and a book."

"A book? What kind of book?" He dug excitedly until he pulled out the volume. "Six... by... Seuss..."

"Yes." I muttered silkily. "Try the third one. Green Eggs and Ham. Fox in Socks is good, too." I pulled out my gas powered jackhammer. Ah, yes! Just as I suspected! The tank was full.

His eyes roamed to my side of the sand bar. "What do you have?"

"A weeks supply of bean burritos!" I held one up and waved it, "a gas powered jack hammer AND..." I could barely heave the heavy tome from the box, "the ENTIRE collected works of JRR Tolkien, complete with commentary by his son and every letter ever written by, to, and from him!" I slammed it down into the dirt, knocking up a small sand storm that choked the tattered man. I reached back down into the box. "Oh look! I got toilet paper!" I held up the package of Charmin, "Did you?"

Gríma looked into his box, digging dolefully. "No, but I got 2 sleeping Ba..." his voice dropped off as I snatched one of the sleeping bags from his hands. His bottom lip quivered and his watery eyes became more so as they filled with tears. I felt a quick stab of pity.

It ran through and exited my body very quickly. Feeling guilty - after all, the little slime ball DID rescue me - I opened the pack of Charmin and I handed him a roll.

"There. Don't say I never gave you anything!"

"Oh, bless you! Bless you! You are to good to me, sweet mistress."

"Yeah, yeah! Save it!" I looked around the small sandbar, one tree standing alone in the middle. I quickly figured out which way the shadows would be in the afternoon. "Tell you what! We need some ground rules here. This side," I pointed to the side where there would be shade in the morning, "is your side. You keep yourself and your stuff over there. This side," I pointed to the side with the shade in after noon, "is my side." My side also had the shallow slope of the ocean, so I could at least go in and bathe or cool off. I peered to Gríma's side. Yep. Rocks and a dark spot, showing a steep drop off. Maybe if I was lucky, he would fall in and I would then get his copy of the Dr. Seuss book!

We stayed that way for a week. I made sure my backside was pointed in his direction every time I needed to let go a mighty blast. Whatever tender feelings he thought I might have reciprocated were quickly dispelled by the odor I put off to repel him. At times, I heard him reading from the book, his mouth, slowly forming the words.

"Would... you... like... them... in... a... house?
Would... you... like... then with... a... mouse?
I... do... not... like... them..., Sam... I... am
I... do... not... like... Green... Eggs... and... Ham..."

"Can I have some help with this next sentence?" He looked up expectantly, smiling nervously.

"No!" My nose was deep in the Lays of Beleriand. "You will never learn if you don't do it yourself!"

"Oh. I suppose you are right." His nose went back into the book.

Fox in Socks was especialy difficult for him.

Several times, I was forced to use my jackhammer on him when he attempted to touch me. I was also forced to use my book as a weapon, when after dropping his roll of Charmin in his muck mud, he tried to steal another roll from me. Twice, I caught him trying to sidle up to me at night. The bean burritos would kick in just in time and he would crawl back to his sleeping bag, gagging.

Finally, our last night arrived. I was fantasizing of Hal-Muse, of Snape-Baby. Oh, the things they would be concocting for my return. I hoped Snape-Baby had brewed a potion so I would not be worn out by their attentions to soon. I did hope they would allow me a bubble bath with rose scented oils, before they began...

Maybe, they would wash my hair.... oooooooh

His pitiful sobs disturbed me from my dream.

"HEY!" I threw sand pebbles at him. "Stop that sniveling! You are interrupting my fantasy!"

"Well I am glad you have one!" he sniffed. "I have spent all week on a secluded beach with a beautiful woman and she won't speak to me or have anything to do with me! She just... just... farts on me!"

"Hey! I gave you Charmin!"

He looked at me, nose dripping. "True, but..."

I really felt sorry for him folks. I did., So...

"Look, " I slid towards him and patted my hand on his shoulder. (I was as far away from him as I could be!) "Gríma, I'm taken. You know I'm taken. Hal-Muse and Snape-Baby are all I ever dreamed of." I said gently. " I would never risk that for anything, not even you." Tears rolled down his pasty cheeks. "However, I do know of two.. maybe three women who would love to spend time with you, in your... manly arms and robes..."

"You do? You know someone who could... love me?" His eyes brightened at the thought of any woman who would hold him gently.

"Oh yes! Dorothy or Mary, I know love you dearly. Maybe Char... MAYBE! Don't quote me there! I will give you their email addresses, but you will have to take it from there."

His sobs were copious and his nose ran like a vomitous Niagra Falls. He grabbed my hands, slobbering kisses all over them. "Oh, you are kind, kind, m'lady. How can I ever repay you?"

I yanked my hand from his grasp, wiping them in the sand. I handed him several sheets from my roll of Charmin.

"Oh, just enjoy them, far far from me!"

***
Fini
***

Okay - this one did it! After careful consideration, Grima decided he was too frightened of SnapeBaby and HalMuse and cut me off like a bad spot on a potato. Then Dorothy sprayed him with BugBGone on their beach holiday, but Mary stood up on a chair and proclaimed her love and won the week stay with Grima at Orthanc.

Well, he WAITED for her for aweek while she toured Middle Earth with the Twins.

hehe. Alls well that ends well...