Scratched Record-

Disclaimer- I do not own the story book or movie, A Clockwork Orange or its characters.

Plot Summary- Alex fancies a girl who works at the record shop he goes to. However, the girl well pretty and music literate, is too pure and trusting. Will Alex take advantage of the young lady? Or will she be an exception to everything he has always stood for?

Chapter 2: Of Music and Men

The voices of the choir ranged out as clearly as the various other instruments did. Alex closed his eyes as he listened to the tape Ophelia had given him earlier that night. He listened as the drums thundered while the violins, basses, cellos, and viola all whispered sweet nothings to one another. This was opposed to the horns, and tubas, and clarinets who seemed to fight for dominance. It was so bold and powerful yet so wonderful that Alex could see the ultra-violence very clearly.

He lay across his bed and flicked his finger along—much like he'd imagine this amateur artist (at least compared to the greats!) would. While he was bothered by the changes made by him to Beethoven's work, even he had to admit he did not do the 9th injustice.

When it ended, a new song came on—this one solely accompanied by piano. He could hear an opera like voice singing along. His finger stopped moving as he listened—this was not his usual poison. He preferred his music loud, boisterous, and filled with chaos. This was too quiet—too peaceful.

Yet, as he listened, he was reminded of the tapes original owner—immediately, his mind drifted to a rabbit chopping away at grass. Never cared for rabbits either; the only good they ever did him was to keep his snakes stomach full. The picture made him chuckle—a snake eating a rabbit with little or no trouble.

Then the confusion returned. Earlier, he had been a snake preying on his own little rabbit. Ophelia had practically wrapped herself up for him to rip apart and use. She had allowed herself to fall for the charming snakes' charade and by all means, he should have devoured her up like the foolish bunny she was. And what had prevented him from doing so? A real 'black knight'? A reasonable idea? A millicent even?

No, only this tape, and nothing else. She had diverted his wickedness with a gesture of kindness, and he had fallen for it. The rabbit wasn't the fool; the snake was. And the most baffling thing of it all was why he wanted her in the first place when months—even hours ago; he had thought her no good to him?

The song ended with a delightful high-ranged note. What had this tape changed about her?

What spell did Beethoven cast to make her something worth noticing?

()

"Hello sir, welcome—Oh, Alex!" Ophelia jumped down from her step ladder when she took notice of the young man. It was very odd to be part of one world as opposed to two, but somehow, Alex found the trouble to smile back.

"Dobby morning, Oppie-feelie-ah— I did slooshy thy disk bestowed upon me."

"Is that so?" She asked, picking up the now empty box and returning it to behind the counter. "How did you like it?"

"It was rather horrowshow, in fact. I cannot clop a veck who honors a great as so." Alex watched as the white smile grew across her face once more; the idea of someone being so happy at his enjoyment was foreign to him, to say the least. "Even the devotchka singing the piano warble was not oozhassny…"

"The opera number? I thought it was bloody brilliant!" She cringed when she realized how loud she had been, drawing the attention of a middle aged man shopping nearby. Alex was amused by it—how easily she lost herself in the moment. In a softer tone, she asked. "Are you not an opera fan, Alex?"

He waved his hand. "I viddy zvook is horrorshow enough—a story behind it, only makes a veck mindless and dull."

Ophelia stared at him with her large doe eyes, looking almost close to tears. "But it's so far from the truth! The story enhances imagination. It allows one to think and dwell on personal questions. It's really no different than his version of the 9th symphony. Even that contained some kind of back story to Beethoven!"

His mind fleeted for a moment—making a separate realization from the conversation they were currently having. "Ye pony the way I govoreet very easy like, when most others get lost in it…"

Ophelia waited a moment before realizing he had posed the question without actually asking it. "Because a lot of the people who come here speak like that. At least, most of the boys do, so I caught on eventually. It wasn't easy though. I'm still unsure about a few phrases… Like what they mean when they say 'in-out, in-out.'"

Alex's smile grew once more. "Ye haven't a messel of what a droog means by that?" Ophelia shook her head. Alex, who knew the phrase all too well, leaned forward and said in an even voice. "It pertains to the naughty, naughty things an orange and his devotchka love doing, sweet sister."

Her cheeks tinted a light red—she busied herself with a lock of her hair in an attempt to control herself. "Really…that's what it means?"

"I swear by it…" He noticed the way her lip curled faintly, her chest rising and falling quickly. "Has a veck skazat his desire to 'in-out, in-out 'with you?"

"Not to my face, no—but there have been a few who have suggested it. I sometimes hear them say 'I'd fancy giving her the old in-out in out, ain't it true droogie?'...and, I never understood what they meant."

"Have you slooshy this from the vecks from last night?" Ophelia again, shook her head. Alex unclenched the fist he hadn't realized he clenched. "So—they fancy Oppie-feelie-ah around here, eh?"

"I…guess they do, don't they? I'm afraid I can be oblivious at times. A while ago, there was a man who fancied me… stopped in every day, he did. I didn't realize until later he was interested in me romantically. He was a nice bloke and all, but he mistook my kindness for affection, and I mistook his affection for an innocent crush. He made me feel uneasy, so I thought of asking him to not drop by the store anymore."

"And did he?" Alex asked, more interested in the story than he cared to admit. Ophelia shrugged.

"I never got the chance to ask him—I heard the police got after him for something—after that, I never saw him again. Thank god for that." Ophelia sighed and held her hands together. "It's so very rare for me to dislike someone, and I guess I didn't dislike him. But that was the only thing I could really see in him—he was good. He had no complex ideals, he always seemed to have a hidden criticism…and perhaps worst of all, he didn't indulge in the classics. Never even heard of Mozart! Can you believe that? Never even heard! How sheltered can a person be?"

The middle aged man cleared his throat as he approached the counter. Alex glared heavy at him for interrupting their conversation but Ophelia only blinked—as if noticing the man for the first time. "Sorry sir… I'm sorry Alex, but I must return to work."

"Just as well, I must ookadeet before my day is lost." Alex said, adjusting his coat as he realized just how close to noon it was getting; if he didn't hurry, he'd be late to his lunch appointment. He cursed—that damned scheduled thinking again. So uncreative. "Oh, by the by, Oppie-feelie-ah?"

"Yes?" She managed to answer even while focusing on checking the impatient man out.

"Do ye need a chelloveck to gooly home with you? To assure no vred comes to you?" Alex asked. Ophelia paused for a moment—shocked by the offer. Alex himself, was unsure as to why he made it. He himself had come dangerously close to harming the girl last night and now he was offering to protect her from it? To him, it made about as much sense as being worried about the time or now skipping out on his droogs once more.

"Miss? My things?" The man gruffed. Ophelia exhaled and came back to reality.

"I'm sorry; my mind is everywhere but here today, sir." She weakly said, giving him an amount and a small bag for his things. Once the transaction was made she addressed the waiting Alex. "I…wouldn't mind a friend to walk me home. Especially after last night; I'm not getting off until 8, does that suit you well?"

"8 it is." He agreed. Not finishing with a goodbye, but simply a nod as he exited the store. A friend? This woman, barely even that if not a girl, had called him a friend? It was ridiculous! To him, women were only good for one thing—and that was to take out your sexual urges. And for that trouble, you had to care for them and protect them. Even Ophelia was proof of that.

Yet, it had happened—quite easily actually. He had made friends with a woman. And he couldn't say he hated it.

()

"You've never felt empathy before, have you, Alex?" Pete stirred his coffee, having eaten through his sandwich. Alex sipped his vodka and gave his former droog a side glance. Somehow, during all of Pete's talk about the new baby he and his wife, whatever her name was (he could never remember it; only that she giggled at his speech patterns) were having, Alex had mentioned the odd occurrences that led him to the rabbit girl he now called his friend.

"Empathy, Petey? That's all ye can skazat about it?"

"I wouldn't say it's all it is. But think about it…" Pete wiped his mouth, like a good and proper gentlemen, Alex mocked in his head. "When in your life has anyone shown any interest or concern in you beyond their own personal gain? Not the government, not the correction officers, not even your parents...And when they did, all they wanted to do was change you."

Alex didn't particularly care to play therapist with anyone; let alone his former droogie. "You pony that I don't go for this chepooka, droogie."

"I'm sorry, Alex, but I'm afraid the point must be made. You're confused because this girl is the first person in your life who hasn't tried to change you and more importantly, has actually paid attention to a part of your personality that lacks the, I'll say, less moral integrities... She treats you kindly without being afraid of you but because she actually likes you."

Alex could have rolled his eyes, but really a lot of it did make sense. He by no means, was not a screwed up child. His parents had wanted him to do well, and there was no traumatic part of his life that pushed him to be so negatively deviant. However, it didn't escape his attention, the most people really only acknowledged him when he was being punished or doing something evil. His parents were home all the time, yet they never once comment on Alex's love for classical music. The government didn't do much to help him get on his feet after being conditioned until he had jumped from a window with the intent to kill himself—and even then, they were only looking after their own asses. And while he didn't believe his past evils were caused by some desperate cry for attention, he was starting to wonder if he hadn't been secretly wanting it all this time.

However, Ophelia had recognized him based off of his love for music and shared a basis with him solely on that. She had given him a tape of music to thank him for saving him because she knew he liked it, and she hadn't even discovered his name until that night. And while at times her innocence could be to the point of annoyance; it was better than the bitter/stuffy people he had come to know in his life.

Still, he didn't like being analyzed like a bug—not since his conditioning and J. Alexander. "So, does ye and your zheena, have any eemya's picked for when you become a pe?"

Thankfully, Pete allowed the conversation change to happen. Alex figured talk of his future little one would. "We do. Not sure if you'll agree with them, though."

"Droogie, I couldn't give a cal what eemya ye decide to give your spawn." Alex commented. Pete scratched his head and sighed.

"I told Georgina if it is a boy, I'd like to name him George—for both her and our departed Georgie. For a girl, we both fancy Lucy, but I'm still trying to convince her to share her name with the baby if it's a girl." Ah that's right! Pete's woman was Georgina—just like his old traitorous Georgie. He indeed, did not enjoy Pete's choice of names for his child but I guess in away, Pete and Georgie were always more bonded than Georgie was with Alex.

Then, there was Pete's apparent worship of his wife. The same Pete who, well often acted as the most reluctant of the group, never once deterred when they found and maimed a young lady. It was agreeable that Pete had the least amount of debauchery in him of the droogies; never once did Alex imagine he'd become so infatuated with one woman—let alone that Alex himself would be envious of such a relationship.

"Petey, there be something I cannot get over."

"Go on then?"

"Your zheena, so to be em to your spawn—what do you viddy of her?" Alex asked, sounding more like a teacher than a curious friend.

"Why would you want to know?" Pete asked with shock. "Honestly Alex; it's so unlike you..."

"Just answer it, Petey." He growled.

Pete tapped his fingers on the table, giving Alex a cautious look. "Because I love her Alex, I don't know how else to put it… It's a sort of unconditional love that I don't think you would understand unless you've felt it. She's never asked me to be a better person, but I try to because I want to do good by her. She's like my angel… But until you've met your angel, you couldn't understand it."

An angel? Falling in love with a devil like him? Hah, never has anything sounded so ludicrous to him. Lately, he had dreamed more and more of finding a woman to bare him children—to care for him and keep him company. But to fall in love like his dear friend seems to have done? Alex didn't see that ever happening to him. Love was for people who were content growing old and sitting in rocking chairs. Love was for people who cared more for each other than themselves. Love was for the people were good and kept in their place.

And no matter what hope he had; he couldn't never for see doing those things for anyone—not even a girl in a record store.

Hey guys, thank you for the review and story alerts I've gotten for this story! I was very worried about how this story would be received but I'm glad it's going well so far. I hope it continues to please!