I've become exceedingly more and more interested in Richie as of late, whom I view as a character in the same vein as Ron Stoppable from "Kim Possible" and Harry from the American animation version of "Darkstalkers", but slightly cooler and even more endearing somehow. And for some reason, I noticed that he didn't start wearing The Earring until the beginning of season two, and after I couldn't stop obsessing over it, I finally just let my brain run with it.

Summary: Richie explores some previously uncharted territory. Takes place sometime between "Tantrum" and "The Big Leagues". Implied pre-slash; fluff. "Jill" is my character, but other than that, everything belongs to Dwayne McDuffie. Rated PG.

Pierced

He'd gone on a Saturday afternoon when nobody else was around. His dad was off on a fishing trip with some old Army buddies, and Virgil and his family were visiting relatives upstate. It was, Richie decided, the most convenient time to do it if he was going to be incognito.

The strip mall was small and run-down, much like the rest of that particular neighborhood in Dakota. Boarded up windows and cracked sidewalks overrun by weeds served as the scenery, and all of the buildings on the block Richie found himself on looked as if they'd seen better days.

The sign hanging above the Stud Piercing Parlor was chipped and faded, but dim fluorescent lighting through the dirty window indicated that it was still open for business. Richie pulled the collar of his jacket up a little higher and glanced around discreetly. He didn't want to think about why he was so nervous for anyone he knew to see him in this part of town, but he'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't.

He pushed open the door slowly, hesitantly, wincing as it squeaked loudly in response. He heard rummaging around in a room shielded from view by a gaudy plastic shower curtain adorned with ducks. Moments later, a girl emerged, probably about nineteen or twenty years old. She had multiple piercings in her ears and eyebrows, a ring through her nose, and when she talked, Richie noticed she even had a bar through her tongue. "What can I do you for?" she asked.

"Oh." Richie's bravado faltered. He looked around yet again, and then in a lowered voice, "I, um. I'm here to get a um, a piercing."

The girl smiled. "You've come to the right place, sweetheart. Where you wantin' it at?" she continued, moving behind an outdated cash register and fiddling with some odds and ends spread out on the surrounding countertop.

"Where?" Richie asked nervously. He must have made a fairly pathetic sight, because the girl snorted. "I – I mean," he stammered. "My ear. My uh, my left one." He had to physically restrain himself from staring around again. This time, the girl looked sympathetic.

"All right then, love. Why don't you come and sit down, and we can go over the details." Richie inched closer and took her proffered hand briefly. "I'm Jill," she said introductorily. "And you are?" She took in his panicked expression and seemed to nod in understanding. "Don't worry, hon, we don't make house calls or anything. But if it makes you feel better, you don't have to tell me."

Richie shook his head, realizing how ridiculous he seemed. "It's okay. I'm Richie," he clarified. "I uh … I've never been here before. It's kinda out of the way, huh?" he continued, following Jill to the back of the store. The space behind the shower curtain was sparse, containing mainly a chair and a short table littered with what Richie assumed were piercing supplies.

Jill nodded to the chair. "Make yourself comfortable."

Richie made a face at the tiny silver piercing gun in her hand. "Easier said than done."

"Funny guy." Jill set to work sanitizing the equipment. "So what brings you to these parts anyway, if you don't mind my asking?"

Richie rubbed the worn leather armrests with his palms. "I kind of researched it," he said. "Online, I mean. I uh, I looked up piercing parlors in town on the Web, I mean, and … well, you guys catered to my um, my needs." He jumped as he heard Jill's Latex gloves snap into place, and abruptly changed the subject. "How long have you been here? In the store, I mean?"

"Two years at Stud," Jill replied. "I moved in with my friends nearby when I first came to Dakota. It's my part-time gig when I'm not in school."

"Where do you go?" Richie asked, feeling slightly more relaxed with the familiar topic.

"Dakota Community College," Jill replied. "I'm studying to become a vet." She proffered a card full of earring choices. "Stud or hoop?"

"Ah, you like animals?" Richie enthused. He considered for a moment and then chose a simple silver hoop.

"Good choice," Jill said approvingly. "And yeah, I like animals. My parents live on this huge farm in Wellesley, so I guess you could say it's in the blood." She picked up a cotton ball and swabbed at the fleshy part of his left earlobe. "Okay. Ready?"

"No." Richie grinned nervously, starting to lose his nerve all over again. "Did I mention I'm a pain wimp?"

Jill laughed and clapped him on the shoulder with a small, red-nailed hand. "It's not too bad; sort of a quick pinch and then it's over." She made a small dot on his earlobe with a pen, and then positioned the gun in front of it. "Want to count off?"

Richie whimpered. "Uh, that's – that's okay. I'm still trying to remember those steps they taught us n the delivery room during birth about how to breathe without an umbilical cord." He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. "Okay. One … two …"

"Three," he and Jill said together. The popping sound of the gun freaked him out, but before he could even yelp, his entire ear felt warm, and he knew it was done.

"There, see?" Jill handed him a rounded mirror; sure enough, his left earlobe was now adorned with the hoop. "Not too bad. Ready for the nose ring?" she teased, chuckling when it took Richie a beat or two to realize that she was only kidding.

He stood up and flexed his muscles in a show of faux machismo. "Very cool," he agreed. "Thanks."

"No problem-o." Jill quickly cleaned up, and then led him back towards the front of the store, where she explained how to keep the new piercing from getting infected, and what to do in case it did. Richie dug out his wallet and paid the small fee in cash. Outside, a couple of teens about his age walked past the shop, both sporting visible facial piercings and tattoos on their bared biceps. They glanced at him, and Richie held their gaze, relieved for some reason that he hadn't immediately turned away.

Jill watched the silent communication and smiled, somewhat sadly. "Richie, can I ask you something kind of personal?" she queried.

"Uh, okay. Shoot," Richie said, biting his lip.

Jill tilted her head. "I'm just curious. Have you … you know, told anyone yet?" Her words were vague, but the implication was more than clear to both of them.

Richie looked down. "No," he said quietly. "No. Not yet. I'm not … I'm not ready." He glanced quizzically at Jill again. "How did you … am I that obvious?"

Jill giggled and raised an eyebrow. "No offense, sweet pea, but you are in a piercing parlor in the middle of Dakota's quote-unquote 'gay district'. It's kind of a dead giveaway." She sobered again quickly. "Seriously, though, Richie, don't be a stranger. If you need an open ear, the door's always open. Or you know, you can always just come back and visit once in a while, too."

Richie smiled. "I know. And thanks." He headed for the door and turned back around. "And good luck with the vet thing."

"Good luck to you, too, kiddo," Jill said softly, sincerely. She watched him head down the block, craning her neck until he disappeared completely from view. "Good luck," she whispered.

--

"What's that earring supposed to be, son?" Mr. Foley asked a couple of days later, when he happened upon Richie in the kitchen. Six foot two, with hair still cropped the way he'd worn it in the military, the only jewelry Arthur Foley had ever worn was his wedding band.

Richie finished topping off the sandwich he intended to bring to school and shrugged. "Nothing, Dad," he said nonchalantly, sounding surprisingly confident, even to his own ears. "It just looked cool is all. Hi, Mom," he greeted, nodding at the petite red-haired woman who'd just entered the room.

"Hello, Richie," Mrs. Foley replied with a small smile. She turned to her husband. "All the kids are wearing jewelry nowadays. Richie's just fitting in," she assured him. Out of the corner of his eye, Richie could swear he saw his mother wink at him.

"Hmm," Mr. Foley grunted, but didn't push the issue any further. A knock sounded at the door, and he went to answer it. "Hello there, Virgil."

"Hey, Mr. Foley, Mrs. Foley." The other boy grinned at his best friend, who was just shouldering his knapsack. "Ready to go, Rich?" He paused and peered closer. "Cool piercing. Where'd you get it done?"

"Nowhere special," Richie grinned. He kissed his mother quickly on the cheek and headed for the door. "Let's go." Virgil followed looking curious still, but Richie didn't volunteer anymore details. He would tell V someday, he vowed silently. When they were both ready.