Twice Cursed
Still Not Looking

"Are you sure?" Cole asked Phoebe dubiously, one of his eyebrows raised.

"Yes, I'm sure," Phoebe said firmly. She pressed the pile that she was holding in her arms into his, then pointed him toward a small row of doors. "Now in you go." Cole, with a slight push from Phoebe, reluctantly headed for them. "And don't forget to come out so I can see!" Phoebe called after him.

Two minutes later, Cole emerged self-consciously from one of the doors. His gaze went to Phoebe, who was lounging on a cushioned bench a few feet away. Phoebe smiled broadly at him. "See, I told you it'll look good on you."

Cole gazed back at the mirror of the dressing room through the open door. "I look like a pumpkin," he complained. His hand toyed with the collar of the shirt. "It's so…orange."

Phoebe rolled her eyes and rose from her seat. She walked to him and walked into the rather spacious dressing room. She grabbed a black suit jacket from off the hanger and handed it to him. "There," she said after he put it on. "It's not too orange now." She sat down on the chair provided in the dressing room.

Cole was not exactly sure how they had got into his predicament. They had started out simply enough, with just the two of them strolling around town. He had not even realized that they had entered a shopping district until Phoebe pulled him into a store. "Hey," he had said a bit grudgingly, "weren't the clothes I got you enough?"

"I really appreciate those clothes, Cole. I really do—you know that. But the answer is no, no amount of clothes is ever enough," was Phoebe's honest reply. Cole had not-too-enthusiastically tagged along as she browsed through the store, though he had perked up slightly when she modeled outfits for him. She bought a few articles of clothing (she had predicted Cole's reaction and had paid faster than Cole could take out his wallet) and had exited the store, looking as though she wanted to go to other shops. Cole had braced himself for another round when Phoebe took him into another store when he realized it was a clothing store for men.

"Uh, Phoebe?" Cole had asked as she started to leaf through shirts and slacks.

"Cole, I've done my shopping, now its time for you," Phoebe had replied distractedly as she selected a pair of slacks. "From what I know, the only clothes that you have are the ones on your back, and that is simply not acceptable."

"Well, no, that's not entirely true, I kinda have one of L—" Cole stopped as he saw Phoebe take a pink collared shirt off of a shelf. "Pink?" He gawked as she nodded. "Phoebe," he said very seriously, "men do not wear pink. I do not wear pink."

"Cole, twenty first century, remember?" Phoebe said. "It's perfectly manly"—she mocked the word—"to wear pink. I think Leo has a pink shirt." She had pouted as Cole snorted, had put the shirt back on the shelf, then selected an orange one, giving Cole a look that dared him to object as she moved on to another section of the store.

Phoebe shifted slightly in her chair as Cole took of the jacket and started unbuttoning the orange shirt, heat rising slightly to her cheeks as the shirt slipped off of his shoulders, revealing his as-toned-as-ever chest and stomach. As he reached over to get the light blue shirt from the opposite wall, Phoebe took the opportunity to slip exactly half of her share of the breakfast into his wallet, which was in his discarded pants as he was trying on a pair of slacks. When she was done, she barely suppressed a sigh of relief when she saw that Cole had already buttoned up his shirt half way. She didn't know what she'd do if he was to catch her sighing over his body.

It was strange. Neither of them had mentioned their bumpy past, making references only to good memories and each other's characteristics. Yet, the weight of their history was not there, did not damper them. It sounded impossible, but there they were, in the dressing room of a high-end store for men's clothing. Shit, Phoebe thought suddenly. He's taking off his pants now with his shirt.

And she couldn't help but stare. Stare at those strong arms that she loved to have hold her tight, that broad chest she loved to snuggle up against, those legs that used to wrap around her waist when—

"Phoebe?"

She startled out of her trance to look up at Cole's face. "Can you hand me my pants?" he asked with a straight face. Phoebe desperately tried to push down a blush as she knew he was trying hard not to smile in satisfaction, and did not quite look at him when she handed him his slacks. Then she remembered that she hadgiven him a lot more than two shirts and a pair of pants to try on.

"Wait, what about the rest of the clothes?" Phoebe asked, snapping back into her shopping state of mind. Cole made a face.

"Phoebe, there's only so much of this 'trying on' that I can take. And if the measurement of the pants fit, so will the rest. If two of the shirts fit, and so will the rest. Hell, one shirt fitting is good enough." He reached for his own shirt.

"So then why did you try on two?" Phoebe challenged.

Cole smiled widely. "To indulge you, of course."

Phoebe sputtered. "Cole!" she complained as he laughed and finished dressing. "Incorrigible," she muttered under her breath, though loud enough for Cole to hear. He grinned as he opened the dressing room door so they could exit and pay. Cole put down a considerable amount of money for the clothes, starting and giving Phoebe a look when he saw the extra cash. She gave him her most innocent smile as they left the store, now even more laden with shopping bags.

"Now, where to next?" Phoebe asked as she took in a breath of fresh air. "This does have a very Ferris Bueller feel to it, doesn't it?"

"Ferris Bueller?" Cole said blankly. "Is that an amusement park ride or something?"

"Ferris Bueller's Day Off?" Phoebe said incredulously. "It's only like the only teen movie of the eighties that wasn't by the Brat Pack. You know, Molly Ringwald? Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club…" she trailed off as she studied Cole's clueless expression. "I've got it. I know where we're going." She snapped her fingers, checked the block corner for the street signs, then picked her way.

"Where are we going?" Cole asked her after they had walked for fifteen minutes. "You know I can always shimmer us…"

"No, it's around here somewhere," Phoebe said distractedly as she peered down two potential paths. "I know it. Besides, exercise is good for you." She missed Cole give her back a doubtful look as she headed down a street. "We're here," she announced triumphantly as she paused in the middle of the block.

Cole looked up at the building in front of him. "A wax museum?" he asked Phoebe disbelievingly.

"I think it's perfect," Phoebe replied stubbornly. "Your lack of recent culture is appalling and we've never fixed it. A wax museum would work beautifully."

They paid a small fee and went in, Phoebe pointing to the various still figures and lecturing to Cole in a hushed voice about their varying accomplishments. Two hours later they emerged from the building, Phoebe looking very satisfied and Cole's mind reeling with random tidbits of information. Phoebe glanced at Cole's expression and grinned. "I should type up a test for you," she giggled. "I can just see the questions. 'Who is Oprah?'"

"An extremely successful and influential daytime talk-show host who also has a magazine," Cole answered seriously, which only set off Phoebe even more. He waited calmly until Phoebe's peals of laughter somewhat subsided before speaking. "Now that you've had your fun, it's time for a few ideas of my own."

"Aw, you didn't think that was fun?" Phoebe asked, a little disappointed.

"No actually, I loved it," Cole assured her. He had loved the whole morning, but he loved what she did the most; the way she laughed, the way she spent a good ten minutes on whether to get a shirt in a small or a medium, the way she grabbed his hand to drag him from one wax figure to another. "But—I'm starving. We need lunch." He paused and Phoebe looked at him expectantly. "And I think I know just the place." He held out his hand for Phoebe to take, but pulled away at the last second. "I'm paying this time. For all of it."

Phoebe laughed again. "If you insist," she said, not intending to let him pay for all of it in the least. She reached for his hand, and with her fingers gently curled around his, they vanished from sight.