02: Be Like That - 3 Doors Down

She put the two piece of fabric together, trimming where they didn't meet up exactly. Holding them carefully, she pressed her foot delicately on the pedal, making the sewing machine run just at the speed she wanted, watching as the two fabrics were materially cemented together. This process continued for the next few hours, interrupted only by the changing of spools of thread and the odd catch in the machine. For all the hard work, when it was all said and done, Violet had made the dress too small and it didn't fit.

"ROBBIE!" Her voice, for as high as she could get it, still wasn't that loud. If it wasn't for her husband's sensitive hearing, it was a wonder he ever heard her yelling through the bedroom door.

"Yes, my love?" She couldn't help but smile. They had just arrived back from their honeymoon, and sometime on it, he had started calling her other pet names, other than 'my doll,' and they were all very sweet, obviously romantic. Especially when he called her 'my love.'

"I tried. I really did. I followed the cut-outs and everything, but it's not working." He walked out of the bedroom, magenta-and-purple striped silk boxers the only thing on, came out to where she was, in the little niche he had in the main hall of the bunker for sewing, and held up her disaster.

"Apparently Violet, you did something wrong, otherwise it should fit."

"But I followed the instructions. You took my measurements and everything, and I went by those and it still didn't work!"

"You'll just have to do it over again. Third time should be the charm, right? At least, I think that's how the saying goes," He put the mistake down, smiling as he spoke.

"How do you do it?" She waved her hand out to the tubes of costumes he had made himself, that still were interchanged every-so-often. "The kid's say you are the official Master of Disguise, and you make the disguises yourself. So—how do you do it?"

He contemplated that for a moment. Robbie had never really thought about how he made his disguises so well, nor how he was a natural at making the clothes himself.

"I am so sorry Violet, but I have no idea how I 'do it,' as you put," He said, watching as she turned off the sewing machine, locked the needle in place, and went into the bedroom. He followed dutifully.

"Damnit! I'll never get it right. I should just give up," She plopped herself on the bed as she fumed. He sat down beside her.

"Now don't go giving up. Maybe you can figure something out."

"Really?" He leaned his back against the headboard, laying his legs up.

"It's all in perseverance." She laid out beside him, her head on his chest.

"Why's that?" It was one of those moments he couldn't help but play with her hair.

"I don't know. I heard that somewhere once. From television, probably." And while he played with her hair, she couldn't help closing her eyes.

"How silly. You get most of your sayings from television."

"Yes, I know. Sometimes television can be a good thing."

"Oh! The rare moments."

"Is that a stab at sarcasm?"

"Perhaps…" She sat up, pulled one leg over, and straddled him.

"And vague, to counter?" His hands instinctively went to her hips.

"Maybe." She ran her hands down his bare chest, alternating between the pads and the nails.

"You shouldn't do that." He grabbed for her hands, but she was fast and held them above her head in time.

"Do what?" He kept trying for her hands, and she kept them from his grasp.

"If you keep it up, I'll do something you might regret." She finally let him get her, his grasp delicate on her wrists. Their chests pressed together, and her hands in his hands, above their heads.

"Why would I regret it?" He didn't answer, he just kissed her. Hard, rough, like she was going to leave him at any moment. He let go of her hands, ran his own down her arms, then her sides, until his hands were on her hips again. When they finally broke apart, the need for air too great, she couldn't help but smirk.

"Isn't it strange that whenever I'm feeling feisty, you're in the mood?"

He didn't answer, just flipped her over, taking himself in the same motion, and pin her down with his body. The smile on his face mirrored the smirk on her own, but faded easily with the kiss he laid upon it. In between kisses, they stripped one another of their clothing, dropping each piece on the floor as they went. Once completely nude, he began kissing down her neck, her breastbone, her chest, her arms, her hands, her arms again, her chest again, then her stomach, her thighs, her most sacred of places. Taking his time, it seemed, driving her mad with need. Quickly coming back to kiss her lips, his hands on her thighs, opening her legs for him, and in a sudden movement, they are one. Pushing, pulling, grasping, grinding, hard, soft, fast, slow. Blinding, colours, swirling, pleasure. And the vast need for air, as they both came down from the clouds.

"I think you're right," Violet finally said.

"About what?" Robbie pulled the purple duvet over them, the chill in the air finally taking it's toll.

"About not giving up. Will you help me though?" She smiled serenely, kissing the tip of his nose.

"Of course I will. You only had to ask," and he snuggled his nose into her hair, breathing deeply.

Sleep came quickly for the doll, while the maker watched her sleep until he, too, dozed off.

(cross fade)

If I could be like that,
I would give anything
Just to live one day, in those shoes
If I could be like that, what would I do,
What would I do
Falling in
I feel I am falling in, to this again.