strangetomato | Strangetown: Chapter Twenty-Six

Warnings: language, sexual situations

Chapter Twenty-Six

Part Three

"Your hair!" She reached out to feel it. "I can't believe it."

"Do you like it?" He asked, anxiously awaiting her approval.

"I do." She liked it even more than she was letting on. Ophelia wasn't the type to show it, but she felt a little flush with so much more Ripp exposed to her. Seeing his ears and his neck, with his entire face revealed, she found herself thinking about what his other hidden parts might look like. "It's really nice. It opens your face up. Makes you look a little brazen, but that's only being honest..."

Ripp smiled, quite pleased with this reaction.

"So, how did it go?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah, did she like them?" Ripp added.

Ophelia's smile said it all. "She loved them. She wants me to bring down everything I have on hand, and she said I could even work there on Saturdays, her busy day. I'll get to learn about running a business, and she's even going to pay me too. It's so exciting."

"Well, I was going to say...," Johnny said, "she should pay you."

Johnny went to the sink and began to rinse out the empty can for recycling. "You should get paid, Phi. That's only fair."

"She's really nice, Johnny. It's all very fair. I think she's being quite generous in her devision of the profits. I have no way to sell them, so this is a start. I can get my name out there too."

"Congratulations, Phi." Johnny turned around and gave her a hug. Ripp hung next to them, like he was looking for a place to jump in. Once Johnny released her, he swept her up in a hug of his own.

"This is great, Phi. I'm so proud of you. We all know your flowers are awesome."

"Thanks, you guys." She turned to go upstairs.

"I'm going to need a hand carrying them over, if you're free to help me."

"I wish I could, but I have soccer practice." Johnny said.

"I told you that was one extra curricular too many."

"I couldn't turn it down. You know that." Sports had always taken priority over all of Johnny's other activities, and he'd be trying to get picked for the Fighting Llamas for ages.

"Yeah, I know," she said, "but Ripp will go with me, right?"

"Well, I'd just be sitting around here with my thumbs up my ass if I stayed, so yeah sure, why not?" He tried to pass it off like he couldn't be bothered either way, but he couldn't keep up the act for long before he gave himself away. If she were talking about heading over to the dump to spend the evening digging through garbage, he'd still be there, following her around and wagging his tail. "Of course I'm going, Phi. Do you even need to ask?"

She really didn't.

Ripp followed Ophelia to her workbench, where she started to gather her work. "I'm so excited, Ripp."

He leaned into her back and ran his hand up her arm. "I'm so proud of you." He rested his head against the back of hers and took a deep breath. She smelled sweet, or was that the flowers? To him, it was one and the same. The smell of flowers, and Ophelia. Both were delicate and beautiful.

Soon he found himself thinking about how the workbench was so conveniently located at about the height of his waist.

He could do some very good work at this bench.

He continued to gently stroke her arm with his fingertips, his mind reveling in the possibilities.

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of having him touch her like that, but just for a moment, and then she moved him along.

"Let's hurry up and get this over to the flower shop, okay? Florence closes at five."

"Okay, Phi."

"I'm very impressed with your work, Ophelia," Florence said. They were standing in the middle of her shop, examining the snapdragon bouquets that sat on the counter. "These are even better than in the photos."

"Thank you."

"These are going to be big sellers, I can just tell. Nobody else is selling this sort of thing around here right now. I don't think I've even seen any like this in Sim City."

"I had to grow the flowers myself," Ophelia explained, "since they're expensive and pretty hard to come by."

Florence watched as a puff of faint pink mist rose from one of the bouquets. She'd never witnessed such a thing before. There was something special about these flowers.

"You must be quite a gardener, then, because these are just lovely," Florence said, then paused, glancing over her shoulder. "So who's you're friend?"

"Oh, that's Ripp."

Since Ripp was on the other side of the room, Florence leaned in closer and added. "He's your boyfriend, yes?"

"Oh, no... not really. It's..." Ophelia didn't really know what to say, and she'd feel a little uncomfortable revealing it to Florence, even if she was able to find the right words. Was it really anyone's business, anyway? Maybe not, but she needed to work out a way to explain it to people. She'd probably need to offer them something, if they brought it up.

"It's okay. I understand. Not yet, ah?"

"Something like that," she said.

"Well, he's just darling. I think you should snatch him up as soon as possible." Ophelia wondered if Florence would have had the same opinion of Ripp before he cut his hair. He seemed to have taken a giant leap across some invisible line that marked a type of motherly approval. Now he looked like someone you could take home to meet your parents... not that she'd ever had to worry about that.

Ophelia offered Florence a kind smile.

"Since you'll be helping me out around here, let me show you around the shop a little."

"Okay, Ms. Delarosa."

"Please, dear. Mrs. Delarosa was my mother's name. Florence is fine." Ophelia followed Florence around the shop, listening intently to her every word.

Ripp wandered around, waiting, while Ophelia did her thing. He was careful not to touch anything, since she had given him a stern warning against it before they had entered the shop. Well, it had been stern for Ophelia, which was more like a gentle suggestion, but that was enough.

He liked the way the shop smelled. It was just like Ophelia's bedroom, and that was always a good association for him. He loved to just sit in there, whenever he could, watching Ophelia work on her flowers. He'd often imagine them together, in her bed, with the smell of flowers mixing with the intoxicating scent of her skin, just like it had been that night when he slept there.

He noticed someone looking at one of Ophelia's snapdragon bouquets and wandered towards them.

"You like that?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's nice." The woman seemed interested, but not nearly enthusiastic enough for Ripp. He thought that Ophelia's work deserved much higher praise.

"It's more than nice. This is really something. Just have a closer look..." He directed her in to see it. The woman listened intently, as he detailed the many merits of the bouquet. She seemed to be interested in buying it, but still slightly reluctant about it. Ripp felt compelled to convince her. How could anyone resist Ophelia's flowers?

He soon found himself launching into a routine that would make any casting crew proud. He'd show Johnny. If anyone could put on a good act, it was him.

The impassioned display, and subsequent handshake to close the deal, was not lost on Florence. She viewed this with interest, especially since his conversation had attracted other interested customers, and he had immediately went on to sell another one.

After he finished talking to the woman in the red dress, Florence approached him.

"Do you realize how hard it can be to move those more expensive products?"

"Didn't seem so hard to me... Ophelia makes lovely bouquets. What's not to like?"

Florence was thinking the same thing, but was directing it more at Ripp himself. She was liking what she was seeing very much.

"How would you like to work here on Saturdays too?"

"Me? I don't know anything about flowers..."

"You don't have to touch the flowers at all, darling, as long as you can sell them."

"So, I just talk to people and praise up Ophelia's work? That should be easy."

"That's the idea."

"Well, yeah, sure. Why not?" Ripp certainly couldn't think of any reason not to. It gave him more time with Ophelia, which was his most basic goal in life. He could also use the extra money, now that he wasn't getting playing gigs with his band anymore.

"Great. I'm looking forward to it."

Florence closed up the shop, and saw them to the door.

"Well, it was nice to meet you both," she said, "and I'll see you on Saturday."

"Thank you for everything, Florence," Ophelia said.

"Really, it was my pleasure, dear." Florence smiled, and her whole face lit up. She was one of those people who could win you over with just a smile. "I feel lucky to have met you. This will be great for the shop, and for you too."

"I hope so."

"People are going to love your work." Florence looked at Ripp, who was looking at Ophelia, and she turned to leave. "Well, you kids have fun."

"Take care, Florence," Ophelia said. They looked at each other and walked to the end of the path.

As they waited for the cab to arrive, he reached for her hands, and she allowed him to hold them. The oddness hadn't quite worn off yet, and her heart still leapt a little whenever he touched her like that, with obvious tenderness. Ripp had always touched her, here and there, but never something so definite and intimate as holding her hands. Now they stood there, hand in hand, in the middle of the sidewalk, where anyone could see them.

She looked over at him, and their eyes met. He smiled, but neither of them said anything. Words weren’t necessary. She could see that he was happy for her, and happy to be able to stand there, holding her hands.

Ophelia felt herself smiling too. After several minutes, she spoke.

"That look really suits you."

"Thanks, Phi."

Ripp loved compliments. Sure, most people did, but him especially. It likely stemmed from all those years where he heard Tank getting praised while he was only criticized. He loved to get attention in any form at all, but never more than when it came from Ophelia. He all but lived for her approval.

He wanted to please her and make her happy. Standing there, with the sun shining down, and a smile on Ophelia's face, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

They were easing into something more than just friends, and those small things were significant. Holding her hands was thrilling enough, for now. The rest could come later. Some things were more than worth the wait.

Still, he kept a condom in his pocket, just in case, waiting for that moment when he could finally become her lover. You could never be too ready, right? He could, and would, do it anytime, in any place. She just had to say the word. If she told him she wanted to fuck him right there in the street, in front of Florence Delarosa's flower shop, he'd just smile and start taking off his clothes.

"A penny for your thoughts," she said.

"I was just thinking how beautiful you are... and sexy... and how I'm lucky to be holding your hands right now." He took her hand and dramatically planted a kiss on it.

"Oh, Ripp. Stop trying to charm the pants off me."

"Well, there's no harm in trying, right?" He grinned. "One of these days, it's going to work, I can just feel it."

"Silly." She smiled. "You're too silly. I could get spoiled by all this attention."

"That's what I'm here for."

"Oh, is that why you're here?" she asked, "I was wondering what purpose you served." She reached for him and slipped her arms around his back. Given this unspoken permission, he eagerly did the same.

"You know, I wouldn't mind it at all if you tried that again... with my lips instead."

"Hmm, really..."

'I wouldn't mind that one bit. You might even say I look forward to it."

"Well, then who am I to deny you?"

The cab showed up before they knew it.

Soon, they were back at the apartment.

In the cab, Ripp had held her hand, but nothing more, even though she had been given the distinct impression that at least one part of his body would have like to do more than that. He was waiting for her to make the first move, she had no doubt. Everything rested on her, and as much as she would have loved to jump him right there in the back of the cab, she was enjoying this feeling of waiting, and of having him wait. Knowing that he wanted her that way, and wanted her badly, was almost unbearably delicious.

The fact that he loved her was even better. She was just waiting for him to say it.

Ripp stepped into the apartment, while Ophelia pulled a couple of stray weeds in the garden.

Johnny was already home, doing push ups in the living room like his life somehow depended on it. That was normal enough for Johnny. It was the sort of thing he did for fun, much to Ripp's bewilderment.

"Hey, guess what, Captain Hero... I'm going to be a salesman at the flower shop on Saturdays."

Johnny stopped pushing up, and silently rose to his feet. He looked at Ripp with a puzzled expression.

"Okay, what the hell is going on? First you get a haircut, and now you have a real job too?"

"Hey, I was always the one with a fucking job! I used to always work those shitty jobs in high school, and the band was like a job too."

"Yeah, that's right. It's was LIKE a job, but not really."

"You know what, Johnny?"

"What?"

"You can be a real dick sometimes." They stared each other down, and then exchanged a begrudging smile.

"Yeah, I know. What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to call you a dick."

"YOU'RE a dick."

"You're a dickHEAD."

"Dicksmack."

"Dickwad."

"Dickweed."

"A dick WEED? Really, Johnny? Am I really a fucking weed that grows on someone's dick?" By this point they were already laughing. "Like what — a tumbleweed blowing across a the surface of a dick? A tumbling, tumbling dickweed?"

"Yeah... you're not even a dick. You're just an accessory to a dick."

"I wonder if we could make a bouquet out of dickweeds? We could probably sell those at the flower shop." It was pretty stupid, but they couldn't stop laughing. They nearly fell over with laughter. Ophelia stood in the doorway and watched them in perplexed amusement.

She just shook her head at them, and continued walking into the kitchen.

Boys and their dicks.

"Okay, okay... Enough of this," Johnny said, "I'm going to go do some studying."

"Have fun," Ripp said, and then added, "You big green dickweed."

"Care to join me? We could run some lines, Dorian."

"Yeah, alright. Lead the way, Mr. Gray."

"So how'd your day go?" Edie asked, as Frances finally arrived back at the apartment.

"It was... interesting." Frances mulled it over. "I met someone."

"Oooh, really?"

"Not like that. I just met him, Edie. You know how it is... and he's not really my type anyway."

"Your type is all wrong for you, remember? It wouldn't hurt you to try something new."

"Yeah, well, it's just not like that. He's just..." Frances couldn't finish the sentence.

How would he describe Beau? Surely, he had never met anyone quite like him before. "He's just different, okay?"

Edie smiled, seeing the look on his face. It was subtle, but she was sure that her brother had been more interested than he let on. With Frances, you had to look closely to catch the tiny glimmer in his eye that betrayed him. He didn't like to reveal those things. Luckily, she had years of experience to draw from. "We'll I'm glad you're meeting new people, Frances. That haircut really seems to have made some difference. It suits you, by the way."

"Thanks." He ran his hand through it. "I think so too."

"Oh, and Tank called. I almost forgot."

"Really?" Frances hadn't expected that. He also hadn't expected his heart to still leap at the mention of Tank's name. He wondered how long that would take to go away, or if it ever really would.

"Yeah, he didn't say why. Probably just wondering if you're ever coming back."

"Is that a hint?"

"No, of course not. If you really enjoy sleeping on the couch, you're welcome to stay as long as you want."

"The couch isn't so bad."

"Maybe it's time to go back, though?"

"Yeah... I think it probably is."

"How was work?" Lucy asked.

"Brilliant."

"That good, huh? So I assume you decided to stop stalking him, and actually spoke to Mr. Worthington?"

"I wasn't stalking him, Lucy. I just had my eye on him. Every other time he came in, it was really busy, and I didn't have a chance to talk to him."

"Whatever you say, Sir Stalks-a-lot."

"Okay, yeah, you've got me, Lucy. I'm a dirty stalker, and everyone knows it."

"So, how'd it go?"

"It went very, very well, I think. He's just amazing."

"As good as you expected?"

"Better. He's basically my perfect man. He's hot - that goes without saying - and he's really cute and shy too. You'll love him. He's so cute, Lucy. I'm not sure he knows it yet, but he's totally going to be my boyfriend." Beau had always been a romantic, and he had a particular fondness for the sort of love story where one person pursued the other with a feverish dedication.

"Oh, I have no doubt that he will be, Beau. If I know you at all..."

"And you do."

"Well, I know how much you like to have a project, so that's good. Better than your last one, I hope."

It would be hard to forget the Alexander Goth fiasco.

Lucy couldn't help but notice certain similarities between the two. Beau really did seem to have a type.

"Trust me, Lucy. This one is 100%, genuinely interested in men. He even said so himself."

"Well, that's good to hear. Oh, speaking of projects... Creepy Chester called."

"Oh, Chester the molester? Is my schedule ready?"

Beau had also applied to work at Gieking Out, a store which specialized in gaming and other geeky pastimes. Chester was a nice enough guy, but had a certain socially inept creepiness about him, and the jokes all but wrote themselves.

"Yeah, you can start on Monday. You don't think two part-time jobs might be a bit much?"

"That's how you get ahead in life, Lucy. Constant work. I'd love to just lounge around all day, but where would that get me? Nowhere."

"One of these days, it will be my cash register that's being stuffed to the brim with simoleans. I need to learn everything I can about running a business."

"Just leave yourself some time for your new boy toy, okay?"

"Oh, believe me. I'm factoring that into my schedule." He grinned. "Yeah, It's a top priority." Lucy smiled in return.

"Oh, I have no doubt."

Beau just smiled, playful wiggling his eyebrows, and headed into his bedroom.

He took off his clothes and got ready for bed.

The last thing he thought about as he lowered himself into bed was Frances.

He thought about his pale grey eyes, his crooked nose, and his perfect lips.

He thought about his necktie, so carefully closing his shirt collar, and how effortlessly he could loosen that tie. He thought about his sweater too, which was no doubt expensive, made from fine cashmere. Rich and luxurious, just like Frances himself.

He imagined his hand traveling over the soft fabric, and feeling the body beneath it.

He imagined himself removing it, slowing pulling it up and over Frances Worthington's head, to reveal his silky smooth torso. The sweater discarded, landing in a pile on the floor, just like any other article of clothing, of lesser value.

Without those accoutrements to distinguish them, Frances and Beau would just be two naked boys in a room together.

He imagined a number of other things, and then he drifted into sleep.

Notes:

If you know where I went to steal the phrase, "a tumbling, tumbling dickweed," I'll be really pleased.

This has to be my favourite image that I've set up so far in this whole story. I love those expressions and the way that Ophelia is partly obscured by the rose. I feel like that shot really sums up their relationship quite well.

So what do you think? Did I deserve to be censored? :P The truly funny thing is that they censored the second pic, not the first. Yeah, that's right - the close up of Ripp and Ophelia's necks. I guess Phi's semi-exposed rack was just too much for photobucket (sort of like how it's too much for Ripp). That whole scene was added just because I wondered if I could make that shot work. Originally, it was just mentioned, which would have worked too (and maybe better), but there you go. It was a flight of fancy.

I had originally hoped to get the next chapter out too before I left town for all of August, but that won't be happening. That chapter features Nervous Subject in the first person, so it should be a pretty good place to pick back up. It has an ending that's not quite a cliffhanger, but would have left you feeling uneasy, so maybe it's best not to end off that way anyway. Things are really going to start to happen soon, so I look forward to it. Let's see if I can hint at it here in a cryptic way... *rubs hand together*

Someone's greatest fear will be realized, someone will make a difficult choice, someone will change their mind, someone will feel unworthy to fill the role they've been handed, someone will keep a memento to remember someone by, someone will move closer to discovering an awful truth, someone will fall in love, and someone's heart will break.

One or more of these things apply to more than one person. Some of them apply to the same person.

I'm going to enjoy my break, and try to set out a plan of attack for the next few chapters, so I won't write myself into a corner (though it might be impossible, so I may have to figure out how to write my way out instead). I'll probably still be around, but no more Strangetown until September, I think.

Thanks for reading! I really appreciate it.

Strangetown: Chapter Twenty-Six - part three

Re: YES UPDATE. YES FRANCES. YESSSS. (Take Two)

Re: YES UPDATE. YES FRANCES. YESSSS. (Take Two)