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 4: Distance

"Alex, why?" Ophelia asked after a long walk of silence. Despite what he had tried to do to her, she was still leading him to her home while he kept a watchful gaze. He couldn't imagine they were too far away now, but every moment with her had caused a thunder of emotions—none of which he knew what to think of. Just a while ago, he had been dangerously close to turning his old habits on to her; and she was asking questions?

"Why, Oppie-feelie-ah?" He responded, not daring to look at her. Her eyes were still stained with red.

"Why… Why did you stop?" Alex looked up at her, perhaps shocked at the question she had chosen to ask. Why he had stopped was almost more ridiculous than why he had done it in the first place. "I was almost certain nothing could stop you. That was why I kissed you."

"Ye just let it snuff it out then? Just gave up, did you?" Alex said, feeling his blood boil. He thrilled himself on making women powerless. To him, or at least it use to be, there was nothing more satisfying then taking a devotchka, giving her the in-out in-out, and her being able to do nothing about it. But there was something very maddening about how, or why a woman would let it happen to her.

"No, no. I was…consenting." Ophelia said, her fingers tracing the lines of her handbag. "I… I've never really had a friend before. And as terrified as I was—I was more afraid of losing you. It sounds ludicrous I know but, I can't it explain it any better than that."

He was speechless, stuck somewhere between that sick feeling and pity. In all his life, he had only ever felt that way towards himself. He felt sorry for himself and his circumstances. Pitying other people was simply—unbefitting him.

But she was so small, so frail. Not a friend in the world. Suddenly a new feeling set in—this empathy Pete had told him of earlier. Alex recalled how alone he was after his 'reformation'. Not an ally to call on, not a place to call home, not even the pleasure of his creativity to keep him content. He was alone.

And now he was standing in front of a girl—so desperate for a friend that she would ignore his true side. "Ye quite are a malenky devotchka aren't you?"

She half-laughed, half-cried at the statement. "I suppose I am….Perhaps you could understand that? There are times where I don't even understand it." Then without warning; she placed his hand in his, wrapping a free arm around him. Alex shocked could do nothing but constrict his hand around hers. It was tight. She knew it to be so because he had not held another's hand in a very long time, perhaps never at all.

"I viddy not a thing about ye, Oppie-"

"Droogie, that be thee?" Alex cursed to himself as Ophelia turned around to witness Len, Bully, and Rick. All dressed in a similar fashion then they were. Her instincts failed her yet again as her grip loosened off of him. Len gave him a knowing smile. "Oh appypolly-loggy brother, we didn't realize you had snagged a devotchka. A polly money one at that."

"Droogs, horrorshow of nochy is it not?" He said with a wide, dangerous smile. He was no different than a territorial wolf baring his fangs.

"Alex, are these your friends?" She gave them an inviting smile, which faded when Alex tightened his already tight grip.

Bully chuckled. "Well, well, what's this? Not your usual taste, little Alex?" He reached out to touch Ophelia's hair but was blocked by Alex's cane. He laughed again. "Well, well, indeed! I must viddy, pray enlighten me, droogie. What maketh your knockers knot so much over this one."

"Ophelia…" She spoke quietly, drawing the attention to her once more. At last, she understood the danger she was in. "I—I don't much care to be spoken about like an object. My name is Ophelia."

They erupted in hyena laughter. Bully started reaching forward to grab Ophelia's wrist. Alex's boiling blood and primal instinct kicked in. He pushed Ophelia back and unsheathed the knife from his cane. He balanced the knife against Bully's fat cheek; not enough to draw blood, but couldn't ignore the attraction to do so.

"Alex, stop!" Ophelia screamed, clutching for him. He didn't move from her; he instead smiled his grueling smile.

"If ye know what suits you, Little Alex…" Bully began with a fierce glare and heavy voice. Len and Rick , while appearing indifferent, were too frightened to move—remembering how easy it had been before for their leader to take down his former droogs.

Alex responded by digging the knife a little into his droogs cheek. "How dare govoreet to your master as such! Ye be bezoomny to think ye could disrespect what is his and lovet nothing of it! I should clean the gulliver straight off your pletcho, I should. Not that it does much for thee anyway!"

She dug her nails into his arm, reminding him that she was there."Alex, I don't want any more violence in my life! Please just let it go!"

Len finally spoke. "Let him be, Droogie. Bully had no pony to vred your sharp—just let him go."

Alex loathed the patronizing tone behind it. Yet, he lowered his weapon- allowing Bully to step back. Alex sheathed his knife and grabbed Ophelia by the arm. He gave each of them an emotionless look—but his eyes targeted Bully the longest. "Next time you all decide to be a bunch of bratchnys—your master won't be so sammy."

He dragged Ophelia away from the group of young men and their shocked, disgusted looks. Alex had a feeling it would soon be inappropriate for him to call them droogs.

()

"Is this where you live?" Ophelia questioned softly in a nervous tone. Alex nodded as he unlocked the door to his apartment building. "Why did you bring me here?"

For once, she was hesitant about him without needing any warning. After what she had just witnessed from him, Alex couldn't blame her. "Those nazzes—they might've followed us and try to vred you well off your chasso. This shall be your sanctuary until tomorrow. I'll privodeet you domy then."

He showed her in, taking her upstairs to his apartment. Alex didn't once reveal the ulterior motive of bringing her here. Alex wouldn't admit it out loud but when she had held his hand—when she touched him. He enjoyed it. Not in the way he had formerly enjoyed a female's presence. It relaxed him; made him joyous. At the same time, it made him want more. He wanted to kiss her again.

Frankly, he just wanted the physical company. "Down the hall. Uncle Alex must smot to some veshch first."

"Oh okay…" She turned to leave but then turned back suddenly. "Alex… thank you. For everything."

"Hurry off then." He responded quickly. Ophelia turned back and followed the hallway. Once he was sure she was gone, he sighed to himself retiring to the bathroom, leaning against the sink and looking in the mirror. His face was plundered with stress, confusion, and other little annoying emotions.

Her innocence threatened to do one of three things; one, get her killed, two get him killed, or three, have him kill her. While simultaneously being bothered by it; her purity excited him. It made him feel like the predator he use to be; only once again, he was enthralled.

And now he'd have control himself with her in his living quarters. It wouldn't be easy. He had almost taken her twice; both times would be without her permission despite what she had told him earlier. Alex, believe it or not, didn't want to harm her. Just the opposite—he wanted her to trust him. To depend on him.

He wanted to see what it was like to be in a relationship—even if he didn't believe in things like love and everlasting attraction or happiness—it couldn't hurt to try it. Although, he didn't think self control would be so difficult. Alex always had a woman there to satisfy him whenever he desired. Yet now, he couldn't take out his frustrations on her or (according to how his parents and Pete acted) another woman.

So he allowed his mind to play. Imagining the music from the tape she had given him—the version of the 9th he had heard. His hand shook as it lowered itself to undo his pants and dove in. As he pushed himself towards the throws of pleasure he thought of her. The images started sinisterly—women at his mercy. Ophelia looking up at him—scared as she had been earlier. Completely his, whether it was her will or not.

Then he grew warm. The kiss still fresh in his mind. Her gentle touches and caresses. The thought of those grazes touching him in such a way affected him more than he ever would have thought. Alex took in a sharp intake of breath as his body received its completion.

Once the clouds cleared and removed his hand, his frustration and anger shooed away from him, leaving only a tranquil and numb mindset. He was relieved yet, something still gnawed at him—he was just too high to care. He cleaned himself off and went to join his guest in his bedroom.

When he opened the door, Ophelia turned away from him, looking at the mirror his mother had bought for him when he moved back in. Because of government law, most of his valuables (such as his statues and art) were taken away to give to his victim's cats. He had managed to replace some of the items with things he stole, but it was still far from where he had it. A goal he had mindlessly been working towards since moving back with his parents.

She was wearing the bowler's hat he use to own—most of his wardrobe being left untouched. He was strangely not annoyed by her use of his former fashions. In fact, a part of him liked the way she looked when she turned to face him. Another part hated thinking that something so evil could touch such an innocent creature. She took off the hat and smiled meekly.

"Sorry, I saw it hanging about and ..."

"Nothing of it." He said, shutting the bedroom door. She placed the hat down—Alex couldn't help but notice that she had removed her jacket. Her nimble, pale arms visible for only his eyes.

"Alex, where will I be sleeping tonight?"

He wore an bemused smile. "Do ye have some veshch against sharing, sister?"

Ophelia's mouth opened and close a few times, her eyes widening at the very thought. After taking a breath she answered. "In your bed? With you? I'm not sure I can…"

She stopped talking as he approached her. When he was close enough, he reached out to touch her bare shoulder. Ophelia shivered at the touch. "Uncle Alex doesn't bite…" She shook once more at his touch, curiosity beginning to get the better of him. Since she was rather easy about his room—chances were she was rather open to sexuality despite no doubt being a virgin. But if her earlier statement was true and she had no one to act these feelings out. Perhaps his little rabbit wanted to enter the field. "In fact—he can be most…horrorshow."

He stopped her before she objected. "Have ye ever had a vecks attention before?"

"No…" She responded when she caught the inner jist of what he had said. Alex leaned his head closer, his hand drifting up her neck.

"And would thee fancy that…Oppie-feelie-ah?"

Her breath was somewhere between hesitant and raving mad. "Alex. I like you. I like you a lot but… I don't know you well enough to make love to you."

Alex chuckled. "Your soviet not mine. I simply viddy- yours truly is here if ye be interessovat.

Ophelia placed her hand over his, swallowing before she spoke. He hadn't expected her answer. "Yes…I'd…like that very much."