Chapter Text
don't need a ranch or a big piece of land / but I like to get a little bit of dirt on my hands
‘Uh - Howdy, I know this is random but my name is-’
She snorts. Hits delete.
‘Howdy, my name is Montgomery. Heard you're lookin for a roomie? I got your number from a pal.’
Better, Monty thinks. Just get to the point.
She hits send, tired of overthinking this. She isn't necessarily in a rush, but getting off this couch would be nice before she wears out her welcome - even if her aunts would insist otherwise.
The response comes hours later.
‘I can't say I've met any cowboys on campus, so either you spent the summer out west or you're not a student here.’
Monty knows nothing about this woman except her name - Aubrey - and Breezy's less than stunning warning that she could be “a bit of a Regina George." But the text makes her smile anyway; it seems this Aubrey gal has at least some sense of humor, and the worst she could say is get lost.
‘You'd be right, I'm not. Just moved here actually.’
‘Do I know the ‘pal’ you mentioned?’
‘Breezy Weekes?’
‘I do know Weekes. I suppose I could trust her recommendation.’
Monty tries to remember if Breezy has mentioned anything other than having classes with this gal, but her name doesn't bring up any specific memory. The two probably only knew each other due to their shared Political Science majors.
‘Hey, I'll take that. I'm a gal despite the name, if that eases anythin for you. You lookin for an interview? I'm free after 6pm these days.’
‘Sure. Thursday. I'll text you the address.’
The name ‘Aubrey’ is given somewhere behind Monty, and she turns her head to catch a glimpse of one of the most stunning humans she's ever seen.
She’s blonde, her hair a thick mane behind her, and in those heels she might stand eye to eye with Monty; her features are stern, and something about her eyes strikes Monty as intense even at a distance. She sports a blouse, crisp and white with navy trim, and a sharp matching navy pencil skirt that Monty quite appreciates. Everything about her is coated in professionalism, right down to the way she moves.
Monty should feel underdressed in comparison in her worn yellow flannel rolled at the elbows, but her high self-esteem holds her head up. She wears a flame-red bandana knotted loosely at her neck, and her denim jeans and leather boots are hidden by the table.
She looks her fill in the few heartbeats it takes Aubrey to finish speaking with the hostess, watching how the greeting is pleasant and polite enough, before remembering she's meant to be on her best behavior. She takes a moment to send a quick and composed text to her friends in between the steps of those heels:
dr addison montgomery's wife: Holy SMOKE you didn't tell me Regina George was HOT.
"Cowboy, I presume?"
Flipping her phone facedown on the table, equal parts her disdain for rudeness and an attempt to hide the screen, Monty comes face to face with her hopefully soon-to-be roommate as she slips into her side of the booth.
"The hat give me away, darlin'?" She gives it a flick to tilt it back in its spot, fit snug between her horns as the last bit of her attire.
The endearment comes out by habit; she watches Aubrey raise a brow at it. “And being the only ‘bright gold dragonborn’ at my table helps.”
“Y'forgot ‘handsome.’”
Seeing her up close, Monty bets this woman is closer to her own age of thirty five, rather than Breezy's mid-twenties. Her brown eyes look almost hazel in the light now, and the color makes her gaze less intense. She holds herself with a flawless air that even Monty couldn't miss, but she knows a fellow tired worker when she sees one.
She leans into her manners as she pushes away the thought that this gal is absolutely her type, and holds out her hand across the table. "Howdy. Montgomery Grey - pals call me Monty. And you, ma'am?" she adds, despite already knowing her name.
Aubrey tilts her chin and takes Monty's offered hand. "Hello. Aubrey Galatea."
Monty releases the firm handshake and leans back, stretching her arm along the booth, pleased at Aubrey's lack of hesitation to take her monstrous paw. She pretends not to hear the buzzing of her phone as her friends respond, and follows Aubrey's order of tea with a Root Beer once the waitress arrives with free bread. The gal does lose a few points in Monty's book when she sends their waitress off with a short, dismissive gesture, the sort of automatic motion of someone used to schmoozing clients over lunch meetings.
"So, what’s got you lookin' for a roommate? Y'all’re already a few weeks into the school year, right?"
Aubrey raises that brow again, her glass touching its coaster with a soft clink; her shoulders straighten, and Monty senses it's an attempt at looking intimidating. "I could have sworn this was your interview."
"Well,” Monty drawls, gesturing with a piece of bread in her hand, “if you'll have me, then it's yours too, ain't it?"
There's a pause as Aubrey’s gaze lingers in thought, but she soon nods. "I did have a previous roommate but she needed to relocate for a work assignment. It couldn't be helped, but I can't afford the place on my own."
"Your name on the lease?"
"Right. I make more than her, so it made sense at the time, should this happen. It's up in a year anyway." Aubrey gives a one shoulder shrug and it looks oddly charming in spite of her otherwise stiff demeanor and mostly neutral expressions. "Still, I find myself resorting to vetting and begging."
Monty smirks. "Y’don't strike me as the type to beg."
There's another beat and then the corner of Aubrey's lip turns up; Monty immediately likes it. "I certainly haven't yet.
"So," Aubrey crosses her arms and her legs follow suit under the table, "what about you, Cowboy? Why have you resorted to begging?"
Monty understands Aubrey's little nickname is probably more a jab than an endearment, but it sounds wonderful on her lips regardless.
"I'm only in town for maybe a year or so. My aunt Thes got herself a bad hip and knee, and the surgery is gonna take six months to a year to fully heal, y'know with physical therapy and all that. Her wife’s a doctor so she's more than able and willin' to take care of her, but someone needed to run Thes' shop."
"'Shop?'" Aubrey says, the minute turn to her head the only giveaway of how she might feel about Monty's sudden sob story. "What does she do?"
"She runs The Blacksmith, her autoshop."
"You're a mechanic?"
"Yeah - Thes taught me everythin' I know.” Monty puffs up proudly, as if this blonde bombshell should be impressed she could fix cars. “I hear it wouldn't normally take so long to heal, but auntie ‘Zona isn't takin’ any chances if she insists on goin’ back to work. So I'm takin’ the wheel for a while. She's so ornery, I don't think she could trust’ anyone else with it.”
"So why not stay with your aunts?"
Monty nods, chuckling. "I am right now, but I'm as ornery as she is. I don't wanna take up space in their little one bedroom, and I've got like two feet on that couch'a theirs. It's swell of them to house me, and we're real close - but I gotta get the hell outta there."
Aubrey looks her up and down for a moment, a quick flick of the eyes that Monty would have likely missed if she hadn't been so blatantly staring. "That's… rather noble."
"I s'pose. Woulda been nicer if I had planned ahead though; hence, the beggin’.” She manages to throw in a wink before their waitress returns to take their dinner orders.
“What about you, ma'am? What d’you do?"
Surprisingly, Aubrey gives a humorless chuckle. "Some would say something as grimey as yours. I'm a Legislative Assistant for Breland Nobility.”
"Ah," Monty says, as if she definitely knows what that is.
"For Tain."
“Oh… Lady Senior, or Lord?"
"Lord."
Monty feels her brows shoot up to the base of her horns. "You work for Hass Tain?” Or Ass Tain, as some folks call him, perhaps Monty included. “And you're a student? Damn, with the demand and all them misogynists, how can you stand it?"
Aubrey studies her face for a moment, as if trying to decipher Monty's tone - or perhaps wondering how a country bumpkin like her knows the word ‘misogynist’. "I'm in the last year of my program. I plan to leave as soon as that diploma's in my hand."
"Smart gal. My cowboy hat's off to ya; it's excellent experience for you, I reckon, but it can't be easy. Hey, if he or his uppity pals ever try anythin’ on ya, you could lemme know. I'll kick a politician's ass for a pretty gal in a heartbeat.”
Again, Aubrey's eyes flick over her face and she's quiet, a long excruciating moment that Monty waits out with a patience she doesn't usually have. Maybe she shouldn't have called her pretty so soon, Monty thinks as her tail nervously thumps on the leather beneath her. Or god-forbid, maybe she liked her boss.
Eventually, Aubrey pulls her phone out of her purse. "Would you like to see the place?"
Breezy "Boozey Clementine" Weekes: I would've if she was my type and I weren't currently seeing someone.
ororo storm as played by halle barry: you can't just say that and not drop a pic of her!
[dan+shay voice] tequila: is she mean tho?
dr addison montgomery's wife: I did not take a picture of her, kitty cat. And she wasn't that mean, Teq.
ororo storm as played by halle barry: boo.
wayfinder's guide: We thought you might have been smooching :)
dr addison montgomery's wife: I wish. BUT she said yes! Guess I won her over somehow. Thanks for the tip, Breeze.
trixie grixie: Do you have a big fat lesbian crush on her now?
dr addison montgomery's wife: lol I think I do.