Author: JustSkipIt
Rating: PG
Feedback: Please leave feedback on the Survivor - Ash Island thread on the Kitten Board.
Disclaimer: I own none of these characters nor do I own Survivor. And believe it or not, I also don't own any small islands. On the other hand, this island is fictional so let's say I own it. I'm making no money from this fiction and intend no copyright infringement.

"Duh duh duh," the voice echoed from the other end of Willow's apartment. "This week on Survivor!"

"Thank you Jeff Probst," Willow called from the bedroom.

"Duh duh duh," Joan repeated as she entered the room. "Did you want one of these?"

Willow took the offered beer. "Thanks and especially thanks for not handing me a Zima."

"They're refreshing," Joan argued.

"They're gross," Willow disagreed.

"So tonight on Survivor," Joan continued her commentary, "Alliances are formed and others are broken."

"Do people tell you that you watch too much TV often?" Willow asked.

"Sweetheart, not everyone wants to graduate high school at age 16 and college at age 19 and have our first IPO by age 20," Joan teased. "Some of us want to waste precious minutes, hours, days, and weeks rotting in front of the TV."

"How's that going?" the redhead asked.

"I can't believe you didn't score with those girls at the bar last week," Joan commented completely out of left field.

Willow cocked her eyebrow at her best friend as she held up two pairs of jeans, one black, the other white. "What do you think?"

"I think you aren't going on a business trip at all," Joan replied.

"Of course it's a business trip," Willow responded as she muttered "fuck it" and packed both pairs of jeans.

"Do you want to know what I think?" Joan asked.

"Don't I always?"

"I think that you got voted off during week 2 and you're flying to New York tonight to do your early morning I ‘suck so bad' promos."

"That's definitely a theory," Willow commented.

"You could tell me if it's true," Joan pouted as she picked up Willow's cat and began petting her.

"Actually I couldn't tell you if it's true or completely not true," Willow disagreed as she held up two blouses. "I signed about 37 non-disclosure agreements."

"I'm sure they didn't include your best friend," Joan argued, "the best friend you have. The woman you share everything with. Every detail of every sexual conquest. Every story, every tale, even the story about that girl you met when we crashed that rush party at the Chi-Omega house."

"Actually that was the exact description on the 13th non-disclosure statement I signed," Willow joked as she again put both blouses in her bag. She raised her eyebrows as she said, "And I didn't tell you anything about that girl."

"You didn't have to tell me anything," Joan continued teasing, "she called our house for three weeks." Suddenly the brunette changed subjects. "You are not going on a business trip," she declared pointing at the two camisoles the redhead was folding and putting into her bag. "I've changed my mind. You aren't going on an ‘I suck kiss-off morning show.' You're going on a Nookie-trip."

"Nookie?" Willow asked exasperated.

"Yeah, Nookie!"

Willow let out an exasperated sigh and shoved a few pairs of socks in her bag before zipping it shut. "Let's go watch me be voted off," she teased.

"You little lying shit," Joan accused her best friend. She grabbed two more beers and handed one to Willow without asking. "If you aren't voted off, let's go out again."

The redhead took a drink and shrugged: "Sure if I don't get voted off."