Strangetown, Here We Come: Chapter Forty (Part One)
Warnings: language, sexual situations, sim nudity (lots of partial nudity, and several butts), NSFW-ish stuff, implied abuse, talk of death, potential genocide
Chapter Forty (part one)
"They seem to be settling in well," observed Erin, as they looked out the window. Outside, the clones of Nervous Subject were working happily.
"Yes," said Leod McGreggor. "They're naturals. They've taken right to it." He was very pleased with these applicants. All three of his job ads filled in a single day. "Are they triplets?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, as she followed him. "Identical." She had prepared some follow up information. Perhaps not as airtight as she would have liked, but something. She at least had something to tell him. She waited, but if Leod had thought that anything about her story seemed off, he didn't let on.
"They fit in well here," he said.
"I'm glad."
Lazlo held back, not wanting to intrude on their conversation. Instead he walked over to the window himself and looked out to where the clones were working happily. He didn't want to even think it, for fear it would jinx things, but their plan seemed to have worked.
Outside, the clones were busy planting one of the gardens.
I had a dream last night, Mani said, as he approached Linnea. With only the three of them around, there was no need to speak it out loud.
It was strange, he continued, Almost like a memory.
... I was on the streets, running away from home. Except it wasn't really my home, not really. And then I was there, at that place again, and they opened the front door and took me in.
I've had dreams like that too, she said.
So have I, agreed Todd.
What are they like? asked Mani. When you have them, what are they like?
Like that, she said. or when I'm younger still. At least I think it's me. Maybe it's one of you. And sometimes... A shiver went up her spine.
... Sometimes I'm a child. A baby, in a crib. With cold, dark walls all around me.
... And howling ghosts.
"Fucken Don Lothario, man."
"She’s taken him back like three times already," Ripp went on, "and then she brought him back from the dead and everything and then he goes and does that? I mean, really, Dude. Come on. Kaylynn isn't even that into you anymore."
"Back from the dead?" Ophelia raised an eyebrow. "That's a bit far fetched, isn't it?"
Nervous Subject fidgeted around, even more than usual.
The knitting usually helped with that. Ophelia had taught herself and Nervous too, in the interest of making some things for the baby. A blanket, and maybe some booties, and so on. Her cousin had really taken to it, and it was one of the few things that helped him find calm. But the mention of death seemed to set him off again, the needles clanking together awkwardly in his hands, his movement not quite within his control.
When Ophelia glanced over, his eyes met hers for a moment and she felt a chill go through her. Like their conversation from before. That night she... That night she was going to...
Back from the dead, she thought. That sort of thing doesn't actually happen.
Right?
For a second, his eyes almost seemed to answer her with their deep infinite darkness. Then he looked away. Twitched. Blinked.
"Hush, you." Ripp said, hardly missing a beat. "Stop ruining it with your logic."
“Niiiina! Noooo…”
“Oh, Cassandra’s going to kill him. And then bring him back to life and then kill him all over again.”
“Man, this is getting good,” he said, cramming a fistful of potato chips into his mouth. "I hope Lilith and Angela are in this episode."
"So which one's Don Lothario again?" Ophelia asked. "That guy?"
"Oh my god, you're kidding me, right?"
"Uh... yeah. Yeah, of course I am."
"Come on, Phi! Everybody knows who Don is! Ninety-eight year old hermits without TV know who Don Lothario is! Tank probably even knows!"
"I don't know!" She shrugged. "I can't keep up with this. There's like a hundred different characters and a million different convoluted storylines. How am I supposed to know? I thought he was married."
"No, that was like five seasons ago." Ripp sighed. “He’s been divorced and remarried and separated and reunited and separated again since then.”
"Oh, I see.” she smirked. “Silly me. Okay, but didn't they already do this storyline?"
"No, see… this is like a flashback. Sort of. It's like a memory, but you don't know whose memory it is. You see, they did this once before, but then they did a bit of a time warp, then a flash forward, then like a flash sideways or something, like an alternate reality sort of thing, and then they changed it and made it really, really dark and edgy and some fans complained, so then they did another version that was all sunshine and rainbows and everything was perfect but then the ratings dropped, and so then they made it all just a dream and it went back to the way it was in the beginning."
“Okay, well then that makes perfect sense…,” she laughed, rolling her eyes.
“If you paid attention it would," he said, tossing a couple of chips at her. She picked them up and stuffed them into his mouth. He continued to talk as he chewed. "Oh and it's partly a reality show. Sort of. The Pleasant twin parts were, back in like season one. Now it's done more in that mocumentary style..."
"I should take Wheezie for a walk," Nervous stood up and said all of a sudden, out of nowhere. He nodded goodbye, though with Nervous one was never quite sure if it had been intentional or involuntary. Then he promptly left the room, not waiting for a reply.
Ripp and Ophelia watched him go. Nervous took a lot of walks around town, now that he wasn't trying to hide himself away from everyone quite as much. Walks helped him burn off his, well, nervous energy, of which he had a seemingly endless supply. Wheezie was one well-walked dog.
"Goodbye," said Ophelia. "Have a nice walk." He turned back and flashed her a shy and awkward smile, just for a moment, before bolting for the door.
"Well that was a bit random," said Ripp. "I mean, it's Nervous, so it's not that I'm all that sur--"
As soon as the door shut behind Nervous, she pounced on Ripp.
"Well hello there," he said.
"Do you think we have time for a quickie?" she asked.
He laughed. "Yeah, sure. I can be done in like two, three minutes tops, right? If I have to."
"Two or three seconds."
"That is sooooo not funny."
"Yeah it is."
"You're just never going to let me live that down, are you? At my fucking funeral, you're going to tell them all. R.I.P. Ripp Grunt. He was an okay guy, but he came too quick that one time. Put it on my headstone, it can be my--what do you call that thing again?"
"Your epitaph. Listen! Do you want to get laid or not?"
"Uh, yeah. Hell yeah. How is that even a question?"
"Okay, let's do this," she said, stretching out enticingly on the bed. “Come on. Let’s get some hot ‘woohoo’ action happening in here. Go on, have your way with me.”
"You know, I gotta say. 'Horny pregnant lady' is an extremely good look for you."
"Oh just shut up and do me already. What are you waiting for?"
Taking more than her share
Had me fighting for air
She told me to come but I was already there
"What do you think... Johnny would do... if he were here now?" She said between breaths.
An evil grin spread wide across Ripp's face. "Well, let me see... First he'd burst through the door and be all like, 'Oh my god guys! Be careful she's pregnant you know,' and have that face on--you know the one. Then that sidelong glance he does, like he thinks we don't know what he's actually thinking..."
"Yeah, and then what? What does he do next?"
"Then he steps closer and takes off his jacket, then his shirt. All dramatic and shit. Puffed up like a peacock. You know the look. He's perfect, and he knows it. The abs. Oh, the abs. And those vee lines like an arrow leading down to..."
"Yeah, go on..."
“He starts unbuttoning his pants. And he's doing that eyebrow thing. Playing it cool, you know. Confident. Cocky, even.”
“Go on. Don’t leave anything out,” she said.
"... and keep doing the voice."
Frances sat there, frozen, processing everything Tank had just confided in him.
"Well say something," Tank said.
"That,” said Frances, “is the most horrible thing I have ever heard."
"Well that was my father. That was the sort of man he was. The whole plan was his baby. Isn’t that just lovely?"
Before he'd had a chance to think better of it, Frances realized that he'd reached out to place his hand on Tank's arm. He could see the touch register on Tank's face, and Frances watched as he took a deep breath.
"Well, not the latest stage of the plan," Tank continued. "Maybe not. I don't know. I'd like to think he wasn't quite that much of a monster, but who the fuck knows anymore."
"That's awful, Tank. I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, well..." Tank shook his head, as if to shake away any emotion that might sneak out there.
"What are you going to do?" asked Frances.
"Well this isn't what I signed up for, to say the least. I was okay with some sort of show of force to drive them out of our air space or something, maybe even direct combat. But that was the aliens. The ones invading our planet, coming here unwelcome..."
"For nefarious purposes?"
"Yes! They made the first "attack". But the thought... As for what he described... the thought that they may actually be contemplating killing off all of the hybrid civilians..."
An atrocity, thought Frances. He was happy to hear Tank use the word civilians. He'd picked up enough of Tank's military jargon over the years to know that when he said that he meant not only non-military, but sim. A person. "Did your... supervisor actually say that?" he asked.
"Not in as many words. But it was there."
"The implication..."
"Yeah, the implication was there. And they did that, with the virus. Here. In this very town. And they plan to send it out there into space, after them. Maybe that will be enough. I sure the fuck hope so."
Frances nodded, trying to think of something hopeful to say.
"He seemed like an asshole, anyway," Tank went on. "Probably talking out his ass. Trying to be a big man, scare me, you know? On my first day. I'll just have to take it for a while, then I'll get to the straight talk on the matter."
"You aren't seriously going to continue to work there, are you?"
"Can you see how I have a goddamn choice in the matter? They're going to do it, whether I'm involved or not! Frances, if I'm not there, some other schmuck will get the job. I don't know if I can do anything, but I can damn well stay there and try. At least if I stay, I can figure something out. Maybe I can somehow prevent it."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"You got a better one?"
"No, but... just what exactly do you intend to do?"
"I have no idea. Take them down from the inside?"
"Tank, that's..."
"I know. It's probably just as well I contemplate actual suicide, but I don't know. I'll figure something out. I'll find a way."
"I guess it goes without saying, but please be careful."
"Yeah. Without saying." Tank paused for a moment, his gaze down, cracking his knuckles one at a time.
"Tank..."
Tank looked up to see Frances wrapping his arms around him.
"Thank you for telling me," Frances said. "I won't breathe a word of this to anyone. Not even to Beau."
"Especially not him." Tank let out a deep sigh.
"Yes, especially not." Not that it would be easy, Frances knew. He smiled for a moment at the thought, but it soon wavered. "I just wish I had something better to--"
With almost a waver in his voice, Tank launched into, "I'm just fucking relieved that Johnny Smith left the planet when he did. Now they won't be able to ask me to fucking kill him as some goddamn show of faith or something.” He sighed. “Fuck... Me."
The front door was flung open wide, with Beau arriving just in time to hear the last sentence.
"Whoa! Did I just walk in on something here?" he asked. "Not to question your life choices or anything, Tank, but yeah. This would be really weird timing for you to decide you suddenly wanted to get into Fran's pants."
"That was obviously not what we were talking about," said Frances.
"It's okay," said Beau. "If you do decide that you absolutely HAVE to cheat on me for some reason, I will expect no less than with Tank 'God among men' Grunt."
"Umm," said Tank.
“I, uh, never said that,” Frances said, looking away. He could feel a faint flush coming to his cheeks.
“No, but I did," Beau said with a grin. "Just then. I said it. Hey, I’m just calling it as I see it. That’s okay, right? We're all friends here. I can speak plainly. You don’t mind, do you Tank? It's a compliment, after all.”
“So what’s up with the glasses?” Tank asked, hoping to change the subject as quickly as possible.
"Yes, those are new," said Frances, eager to do the same.
“Oh, these?” He adjusted them with a flourish. “Nice, right? Very distinguished! They’re my ‘working glasses’. For when I’m doing important business-related business.”
“Do you actually need those for reading?” Frances asked. He thought he’d have heard about it by now if that were the case.
“No, they just make me look smarter. Gives more of an impression that I know what I’m doing.”
“Heh.” Tank remarked.
“Is there anything at all that you do that isn’t a pointed manipulation?” Frances asked.
“Well, since you're asking…” He waggled his eyebrows.
Frances sighed. "Come here, Beau."
“They make me cuter too, don’t you think?”
"Is that even possible?"
To his credit, Tank observed the embrace with far less discomfort than he once would have. Before turning to leave, he said, "Umm well, I guess I'll leave you guys to your, uh... you know."
"I have no idea what you might be referring to," Frances said, smiling.
"Dicks?" offered Beau.
"Not what I was going to say," said Tank. "But, yeah. Sure. Dicks. Whatever."
"We're heading out of town this afternoon,” Frances said, “so there will not in fact be any penises involved in our activities."
"Wieners."
"Yes he gets the idea, Beau."
"Danglers. Dongers. Ding-dongs..."
"Where are you going?" Tank asked. Completely ignoring Beau was usually the wisest course of action.
"Well, I'm finally going to go visit with Charlotte in Bluewater Village, which I've been dreading as you know, and Beau is heading out to Pleasantview to see an old friend."
"And Mom."
"Yes, and his mother."
"Frances is going to come, too." Beau beamed. "Big step! Meeting the parents. Or parent, anyway."
Frances smiled. "We have a busy day ahead of us. Hopefully nothing too, too eventful. We might even have the opportunity to look at some apartments in the city on the way back, if time allows."
"Oh," said Tank, "That reminds me. Ripp said his friend Jasmine knew of something that might work."
"Jasmine, as in Jasmine Rai? Jaxy Rai?" Beau gasped. "The Jaxy Rai?"
"That'd be the one," Tank confirmed.
"Oh, awesome! I'll bet she'll find you something really, really great, Fran."
Frances shrugged. "I'll take any help I can get."
"Yeah, she's super awesome cool and grew up in the city herself, so I'm sure she knows all the best places."
"He's a bit of a fan," Frances explained.
"Of Ripp's band?" Tank asked, incredulous.
"Yes, I know," said Frances, "There’s just no accounting for taste is there?"
"Ripp's nonexistent band?"
"Oh they exist!" Beau declared. "They totally exist and they are totally amazing!"
"Speaking of...," Frances trailed off just before saying his name, "How is everything going with him and Ophelia? Is she doing okay?"
"Oh RIGHT!" Beau cackled with laughter. "She's preggers, isn't she! Your brother, the Daddy-to-be! That poor, poor unborn child..."
"My God, can you imagine having Ripp as your father?" Frances asked.
Tank cracked a smile. "No. No, I cannot."
Frances obviously couldn't either. "Though, to be fair," he said, "that might not be entirely a bad thing."
Frances certainly felt it might be worth trying nearly any other sort of father than his own, and considering their previous conversation... but even before that, Tank hadn't exactly painted him a picture of General Buzz Grunt as someone he'd trade his own for. And that was saying something.
He met Tank's gaze, and saw his recognition of same thought.
Tank let the thought sit for a moment, then said, "Now that you mention it, I should probably go give him a call. See how everything's going. It's been a while."
"Aw, he's such a good brother," Beau said. "I like to see that. Seriously. Good brothers are everything. Even when the other brother happens to be Ripp."
"Be nice," Frances said.
"Ohhhhhhh, defending your boyfriend, are you?" Beau laughed. "Well, we all know how you feel about--"
“I never said..."
Tank left them to their banter and walked out into the kitchen to dial his brother’s number.
Good brother.
Tank tried that on for size. He liked the idea that he might deserve that title. He hadn't been a good brother to Ripp in the past. He'd been... terrible. A flash of memory, the pulp he'd made of his brother's face. And for what? For what...
Well, maybe he could be good. He could be a good brother. Were sims defined by their history, their past, or by their current actions? He could move forward, do better. Couldn't he?
He could be a good brother now.
"Hello?!"
"Yeah, hey. It's me."
"Oh, hey Tank," Ripp said, gasping for air. "I was just. Running. To get. The phone."
"And you're that out of breath? God, you really need to work out more."
"I was! I was just. Working out."
"Oh, well then good for you. You really should be taking better care of yourself."
"Oh I'm well taken care of. Believe me."
"Good to hear."
“So, uh. What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just calling to see how everything’s going over there.”
“Good! Good. Everything is, uh... good.”
"Hey, have you heard back from Jasmine yet? About the apartments?"
"Jax? Uh, yeah. Yeah. Just tell them to call. I think Beau's got their--"
"Oh you have got to be kidding me..." Ripp muttered under his breath. "I'm talking to--"
"Huh?"
"Nothing! I just... Oh god..."
"Are you okay? What's going on?"
"Nothing--NOTHING! Listen, Tank. I gotta go."
"Umm... Okay, I guess."
"Yeah, Ophelia's... going uh, downtown. Yeah, to Sim City! And she wants me to come--uh, with her! She wants me to come with her! Yeah, she needs me to go down. Town! Go downtown... to, uh, 69th street." A small sputter of laughter escaped him.
"Uh, alright," said Tank. "Well, good luck I guess. Sounds like she's really keeping you busy."
"Oh you have no idea."
There was a puzzled pause. "Alright, then. Bye, Ripp."
"Bye!" Ripp yelped.
And then in the background before he managed to hang up Tank could hear someone else laughing and, "... Really, Phi? Really? With Tank on the phone? Oh, you are so getting it now..."
Tank took pause. "Wait... 69th Street? What the--"
"Seriously? But why would he even answer the phone?"
But that was his brother for you. His brother, and Ophelia Nigmos. Who would have ever thought? Not Tank, that's for sure. Such an odd pair, he thought. His brother, settled down? And Ophelia... Ophelia. He thought back on that. The sting had gone out of the memory, but he remembered the feeling.
In another life, that might have been me, he thought.
I miss having a girlfriend.
"I'm going away for a while, Nervous."
Pascal.
He was going away, to find someone. That woman in the red dress.
Nervous didn't like that memory. He tried his best not to think it. He tried to push it down, down as far as it would go. Nervous was good at hiding away things in his mind. Except when he wasn't.
He shuddered. He began to shake, just a little.
He felt a cold wet nose nudging him. It helped to bring him back to the moment.
"Wh-wheezie?"
"I-I'm. I'm okay."
“So you’re good?" asked Chloe, "You sure? I’m heading out anyway to get some stuff for the restaurant.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you,” said Jenny.
“Things are really coming along. Should be able to open soon.”
“Lola would be very pleased about that."
Chloe didn’t respond to that, but Jenny could tell from her smile that she liked the thought.
“Have you spoken to Vidcund lately?”
“No,” she said, “Can’t say I’ve talked much with VidCUNT. Nor do I care to.” She’d gone out of her way to avoid him since their shouting match over dinner. Without Lola there to mediate, Chloe didn’t trust herself not to punch him right in his insufferable face.
“Chloe…” Jenny sighed.
“What?”
Jenny gave her one of those looks.
“He’s probably off busy being a miserable, unbearable asshole! As usual!”
Jenny kept looking.
“Listen, if he wants to apologize to me, he’s more than welcome to!”
“You’re both acting like children.”
“Oh, who cares! Seriously. It’s not like we were ever on great terms. No love lost there!”
“Well then, do it for me?” Jenny pleaded. “For my sake? We're a family. We need to stick together, now more than ever.”
Chloe sighed in exasperation. “Ugh! I guess so...”
Jenny pulled her into a hug.
“You know,” Chloe continued, “You’re even worse than Lola!”
“I’ll take that as the highest of compliments,” said Jenny.
Once she'd released Chloe from the hug, Jenny added, “You miss her.”
She shrugged. “Missing her won’t bring her back.”
“I’m sure she’s doing fine out there. She always does.”
Chloe nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure... Listen, I’ll drop by again tomorrow, okay? Call me if you need anything.”
“I will. thank you.”
Jenny watched her leave. She'd noticed that Chloe hadn't mentioned Johnny when the opportunity had come up, but then her sister had never been the sort to follow such social niceties. Lola would have. She'd have brought it up before Jenny had. It wasn't hard to miss Lola, and also her tempering influence on Chloe. Jenny missed her every day.
Jenny turned and went to check the time. The twins would be coming home from the pool soon, and she was having Ophelia and Ripp over for dinner that evening. It would soon be time to get started on that. The thought of cooking dinner reminded her of P.T., something they'd always done together, and she felt that familiar tinge of pain in her chest that she still felt so many times throughout each and every day. It was slowly getting easier, a little at a time, but it was hard for her to imagine a time when it wouldn't hurt.
She'd make spaghetti. She knew they liked that. At least, they always seemed to linger around on spaghetti day, and never once turned down an invite. She smiled.
She supposed there would be plenty of time to talk about Johnny once those two arrived. That would be hard, she knew, but it would be good to speak to them. Good to see them. She would've hated it if Johnny's absence had meant that Ophelia and Ripp wouldn't be in her life anymore. They felt like family to her. Johnny's family.
As much as she had known that Johnny had needed to do what he had, and how she trusted that he'd take on and succeed at any task he set himself to, she felt like a part of her heart been removed and had gone into space with him.
Her firstborn. Strong-willed and always wanting to do the right thing, and still so much like that little boy running around with his cape flying out behind him. Golden hair in the sun. Laughing. It was so hard to let him go.
She gathered her thoughts back to focus on her other chick that had recently left the nest. She picked up the phone and dialed that new, yet already familiar number.
“Hi Mom,” Jill answered, before Jenny had even spoke. Before she'd even looked at the phone. She didn’t need call display to know it was her mother. Her calls were like clockwork. Sometimes annoyingly so.
She didn't like to admit it, but she sometimes didn't answer her mother's calls. Jill felt a little guilty about that, but she did it anyway. She was an adult. She wanted her own space.
“Hello, dear. How is everything going with your first week of classes?”
“Oh good, good. You know…”
Jill began to recount some of the highlights, the things she figured her mother would want to know about. The edited version of her life that she shared with her mother, for her own sake.
Not the tattoo, for instance.
A dolphin, on her ankle. She'd always loved them, and often pretended to be one while swimming around in the pool. She knew her mother would spot the tattoo soon enough, but she wasn’t in the mood to have that scene play out just yet. It was a tiny thing. No big deal. And nobody's business but her own.
Or the modeling, for life drawing classes.
It was a job, like any other. The hours were short, the pay good. And she had wanted to know if she could do it. To get up there in front of a room of people. Just for herself. She'd been nervous at first, but it felt exhilarating to do something like that. Freeing.
She'd done it before, with Buck, so it really didn't seem like that big a deal.
Would she tell her mother about the modelling? Perhaps. But not today.
She'd met some people. From the life drawing class, actually. Potential friends. It was amazing how easy it was to make friends when you got naked in front of them. She'd been invited to a fourth-year party, too, during one of the breaks. A good icebreaker, for sure.
Her mother had been happy to hear that she'd made some friends. She said as much. Jill knew her mother had been worried that she'd be lonely at Académie Le Tour. Worried about her out there all alone.
She'd been a little worried, herself. The campus had seemed so huge and empty at first.
But she'd gotten the hang of it quickly enough.
There were the other things, too, like her break from Buck. That was something she didn't feel like talking about, especially not with her mother.
That had been hard, but she still felt it was for the best. They'd been together since they were children. Babies. They needed to find themselves. Find their own way. And then they could come back to each other, knowing that it was a deliberate choice. Not something they fell into and never questioned until it was too late.
Maybe she was following her brain instead of her heart. But what was wrong with that? The heart would still be there to consult later. It wasn't a definite, final thing. It was a break. Sims did this sort of thing all the time.
They were fine. She was fine.
“I’m okay, Mom. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“That’s my job. That’s what mothers do. You’ll see one day. Well, perhaps. I hope so.”
“Sure, Mom. Maybe one day, but that day’s not coming anytime soon.” She thought again about Buck. It could have been a lot sooner than even her mother would have expected.
“No no, of course not. You've got plenty of time to worry about that later. But you know I’d love to have some grandchildren to spoil one of these days.”
“Mom, you still have children at home.” Jill groaned. Like that mattered to her mother. She was a Family sim to the core.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to your day. I’m sure you’re very busy. I have a busy day ahead of me, too. I've invited Ophelia and Ripp over for dinner.”
And Ripp. Ophelia and Ripp. Ophelia was pregnant, with Ripp's baby. Again, pregnancy seemed to be everywhere all of a sudden. Why was it that things always seemed to work that way? Something mostly off your radar, and then once you're aware of it... there it is. And she'd put all that behind her ages ago, and yet...
"That sounds nice," she said to her mother, hoping she hadn't said something else since that comment would've be relevant. It was easy for her mind to wander, especially with her mother.
"I wish you could be here, too," said Jenny. "All of you kids."
"We're not kids anymore, Mom." Her thoughts also drifted back to that time they'd all been there for dinner, back when she was still a teen. Up on the balcony. With Ripp.
Ophelia and Ripp. God, their kid will be frigging gorgeous.
"Yes, you're all growing up." Jill could hear her mother's smile through the phone.
“Bye, Mom. Thanks for calling. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Goodbye.”
Jenny took a seat on the couch. Had she been too aggressive about the children thing? Sometimes it just slipped out. She didn't want to be overbearing, wanted to let her children live their own lives, but it was easy to forget and project yourself onto them. To fall back on old habits, things passed on to you from your own mother. Jenny Smith thought about that a lot those days.
She was getting better, wasn't she? She hadn't asked Chloe if she was seeing anyone special. The thought had crossed her mind, but she'd left it there. That was progress. It was harder with Jill. She felt more like a younger version of herself, an extension of her. But she wasn't. It was easy to forget.
Jenny turned on the TV.
Catherine Viejo, of "Sex Chat with Cat" fame, was in an interview. Jenny had taken to watching her show recently. Cat was a former health teacher, turned sex educator in her golden years. Jenny felt inspired to see someone her age doing something so bold and unconventional, and the content... well...
For all her open-mindedness in marrying an someone of an alien species, she'd inherited a lot of hangups from the generation before her. She'd suffered for that herself in her early years, in her own sexuality, her own body. And then, despite that, she'd fallen into many of the same pitfalls as her mother before her.
Well, she supposed, it wasn't too late to change. To bring that sort of openness to the table. She was learning.
She'd even tested Cat by sending in a question of her own, regarding alien sexuality. She'd gotten a rush out of seeing her sex life with P.T. not only featured on air, but handled with care and respect.
"... and regardless of species or personal anatomy, remember that lube is always your friend."
Jenny giggled again, thinking of it.
In the interview, Cat was currently addressing the idea that she, as an elder female sim, was talking about sex. "Yes, kids, Granny can still 'woohoo'. And not all elders are 'grannies' either. And enough with the euphemisms! Let's not call it woohoo and blur it out with pixels. Let's be frank about sex. We all deserve that much."
Jenny nodded. She'd been a nurse in obstetrics all her life. She could so easily be frank about the body in that way, in the functions of childbirth, so why not with everything else? For herself, too. Cat's take on things was very enlightening, and inspiring.
And she was pretty, too.
"You okay?" he asked, still a little out of breath.
"Yes, very." She smiled, and then patted him on the chest. "You did good." She looked up to see his grin, knowing he'd like that. "And you?"
He leaned forward and kissed her head. "With you, always."
"Oh!" she gasped. "I think the baby kicked!"
"Woah, really?"
"Didn't you feel something move?"
They waited, breathless, for something else to happen. But nothing did.
"It might've been my imagination," she said, "but I was sure I felt something."
"Probably telling us to knock it off with all the commotion out here."
"Oh, don't be silly."
"No, really. Imagine if like you were inside there and there was something out here doing that to your home. Right up to your front door!"
She laughed.
"With like, a battering ram."
"Okay, Ripp. Let's not get carried away."
"But seriously, though," he said. "That was, uh... quite the workout. I don't know if you noticed. I'm not sure what you think a 'quickie' is, young lady, but that was certainly not it. And like, this morning, too. And yesterday. And--"
"Are you saying I've worn you out, Ripp?" she purred. "You, the 'insatiable' Romance sim?"
"What?! No, I..."
"You're tired. It's okay. You were working pretty hard."
"Well, you've been a bit of a handful lately. To say the least."
"Have I been?"
She got to her feet. “Come on, now. Get up. It’s time for us to get ready. We’re going to go see Jenny today, remember?”
"No," he groaned. “I can’t get up. I can barely move.”
“Yes you can. Come on.”
“Ugh. You’ve killed me, woman.”
“Oh, stop being such a drama king. You're fine. Come on and get up now.” She went digging in “the pile” as Ripp fondly referred to it. “Here, lazy bones, I’ll even pick your clothes out for you. This shirt seems acceptable.” She sniffed it. “Maybe.”
“Hey, you know that thing you did? The last time…”
“Huh?”
“When you… you know.” He gestured towards the general area where it had taken place.
“Oh, you mean…?” She gestured the action.
“Yeah… that. That was good.”
“Oh you know.” She shrugged, smiling. “Just trying things out.”
Experimentation had been a positive byproduct of sleeping with the same sim over and over again. Ripp had figured he'd tried a lot of things with a lot of different women, but repeat attempts brought many benefits. Trying new things. Trying the same thing until you got it just right, or discovered something new. And Ophelia always seemed to surprise him, at just the moment he needed surprising.
Like when they'd found Olive's costumes. In addition to being generally terrifying, her aunt had been a party guest, professionally, according to Ophelia. Costume parties, it seemed. She had everything in there, including a bunch of uniforms. Even a maid uniform.
Always something new.
“Well that one’s a keeper,” he said. “Like, if I’m ever about to die, just do that to me again. Like maybe 20 or so times.”
“If you’re ever about to die, I probably won’t be thinking about that. I’ll probably be trying to save your life, or crying or something like that, don’t you think?”
“No, you’ll be the one killing me. With your body.”
“Get up," she said. "Now.”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“Yes I am.”
“Damn straight.”
She moved towards him, and climbed back onto the bed and onto his lap. “Come on. We’re going to tell her. We need to take a shower and look presentable.”
“Aren’t I always presentable?”
Smirking, she inspects his face. “Maybe a shave? And fix your hair?”
“That’s how it’s supposed to look. All messy and shit. Like I just went for a roll in the sheets.”
“Well, that's convenient," she said. "And accurate.” She moved her hips around slightly. “Want to ‘play in bed’ again?”
“He’s dead, Phi. Let him rest in peace.”
“So I’m bringing him back from the dead.”
“That’s far-fetched, remember.”
“I have my ways...”
“Yeah you certainly do,” he said
"I can do the voice too, you know," she said, in her best attempt at a Johnny Smith.
Ripp smiled, but shook his head. "That's not even close, Phi."
She adjusted the jacket, unfazed. “So what do you think you would do right now? If Johnny were here?”
"Well, first I might... like, tag him in, or something." They both laughed.
"Like in wrestling?"
"Yeah. Let my partner take over... so I can like, take a nap."
"You're funny," she said.
"No, I'm not joking."
She reached out and took his face in her hand, and brushed back through his hair. She could see the sadness in his eyes. Even when he kept it pulled back, hidden deep, she could always find it. Was it the same with him, for her? It seemed he always knew when she needed silly, and when she needed him to be serious. Sometimes tender, and sometimes rough. Somehow, he knew.
She lay down on the bed next to him.
She cuddled into him, and lay there for a moment in silence. Then looked up at him, and smiled. "If he was here," she said, "he'd kick your lazy butt into gear, and you'd already be getting ready by now."
Ripp laughed at that, made a face at her, and got up.
"Tell him he can kiss my ass."
Notes:
It's been a while, folks. To say the least.
As always, thank you for reading, and especially to those of you who keep coming back to this story after such long breaks between updates, those who re-read it, or who read through such a long unfinished work for the first time. And especially to those who comment! <3 It means so much to me. I always love to hear from you.
It's been ten years (!) now, and I'm still writing this story. Hard to say what the future holds, but hey, I'm still moving it forward. This is easily the longest running project I've ever had, and it's still quite dear to my heart. It's changed a lot over the years, and I look forward to seeing how it might grow and change in the future.
The Académie Le Tour lots are makeovers by Katatty. Thank you for your lovely work with these! :)
Thank you to Sophie for beta reading as always, and also to Meetme, W, Pixel, and Holley, for your input on this update over the three years or so that this was in some stage of WIP. Your help and feedback is very much appreciated.
There were a bunch of posts on Tumblr with Ripp and Phi's costume exploits. I might add some links to them here later.
Ripp's "mood music" was You Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC.