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BBRae Fan Fiction!
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Chapter 10: Mr. Sims and The Fixit Right Company.
The man had a I'm-way-to-smart-to-be-working-for-you-look. According to Garfield, Mr. Sims was supposedly the best lawyer in all of Jump City. However, his small brain, runny nose, stuttering voice, and tittering hand motions said otherwise.
Mr. Sims looked strangely like Kori's old pet turtle. All he needed to complete the look was a rock-hard shell on his back. "How long have you been a lawyer, Mr. Sims?"
"Approximately fifty years." He swabbed his shiny, bald head with the napkin he constantly carried around. The turtle-like man was constantly swabbing the flow of sweat off his ever-shiny head. "Is it hot in here?"
"Not really, but I can have Garfield turn up the air conditioner." Once again, Mr. Sims swabbed his sweating cranium. The man's sweat had begun to soak through the tuxedo, leaving small dark splotches underneath his armpits.
"That would be nice." His eyes darted back in forth nervously, as if her were being stalked by a secret enemy.
Leaping off the chair, she darted out of the room. The smell of the lawyers body product was beginning to get to her. A very startled Garfield stood in the kitchen preparing meat free sandwiches, as she rushed into the room. " If that guy is the best lawyer in Jump City, then I give you permission to kill me."
Gar questioned, "What's wrong with him?" Putting the sandwiches on the chair next to him.
A how-can-you-even-ask-that-question-with-a-straight-face-look appeared on her features. "Your brain capacity is probably larger than his; I didn't even think that feat was possible."
Deciding to ignore Rachel's snub comment, he frowned at the floor. Whenever he was around her, things never went the way that he wanted them to. "But his website said that he was the best lawyer in Jump City."
Rachel shook her head, "They all say that Gar, it's how law firms get customers."
"Oh." He grunted, scratching his ear like a dog.
'It's almost cute, when he does that.' A soft ounce of realization hit, and she mentally slapped herself. "Gar, I wouldn't do that, if I were….. Never mind."
He had just sat directly into his own sandwiches. Mustard, lettuce and tomatoes sprayed his pants, and he got off the chair with a groan. "Whoops, I forgot they were there."
"Just when I thought that your intelligence could not sink any lower." For the first time in years, she had a strong urge to snigger. 'What is wrong with me?'
Gar couldn't help, but smile. Amusement was sticking to Rachel's voice like honey, and that had been his ultimate goal. "Hey, you better be nice to me. I've given up a lot up for you, you know."
Rachel asked, "Like what? Do you mean getting me a lawyer that produces more liquid than Niagara Falls?"
He merely smiled, and winked at her. Anger was rising inside of her stomach, but she retained it. "We'll get a new lawyer, don't panic. You always have that look in your eyes when you're stressed."
A scowl replaced the anxiety in her eyes. She was recoiling, and getting ready to strike; just like a King Cobra sensing its next victim. "Why do you always act like, you know me? You don't know anything about me."
"You're wrong, Rae," Gar sighed. "I know that you always tense right before you yell at someone, you wrinkle your nose when your annoyed, you flutter your eyelids when you're tired, and your eyes twinkle when you get to a exciting part in your book. I could go on and on, Rachel."
She gasped, "What?"
"You're so beautiful." Reaching forward, he tucked a strand of Rachel's hair behind her ear. His hand remained against her face for a moment, taking in the gentle warmth of her soft, pale skin. "I can't seem to take my eyes off you."
She was utterly shocked. Only one person had ever called her beautiful before, and he hadn't meant a word of it. But, what if Garfield did. "Garfield, I…"
"I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?" They jumped apart in shock, as Mr. Sims entered the room. The man's sweat seemed to have soaked through his tuxedo, and was dripping off of his body. "I was starting to get worried."
"No, everything is fine," she blushed. Redness also tinged Garfield's cheeks, making them look like a couple of tomatoes. "I must apologize, but I don't think that you're right for the job."
"I understand," he coughed. Surprisingly, their was not a look of depression on his face. The expression upon his features was almost happy. "I'm getting to old for this, anyway."
Garfield frowned, "I'm sorry, too."
"I only work because my wife makes me." The man's sweating continued to grow, and a strange sent perturbed from his body. The best deodorant in the world, could not mask this scent. "She isn't to kindly to me, anymore."
The next day...
Garfield ran his finger over the phone book directory, pausing at promising firms. "This place doesn't look to bad."
"Let me look." Rachel leaned over his shoulder, holding a plate of very burned noodles. For the past couple weeks, she had been trying to learn how to cook. It wasn't that hard to fit the practicing between doing make-up work and doing online inventory. "We don't want another mistake like last time."
He pouted, "It's called The Fixit Right Company."
The advertisement was decorated in blinding colors. The brightness of the article could have challenged the sun's own light rays. "That's a unusual name for a law firm. Are you sure it's not a plumber or a cleaner company"
"Yep, I'm positive." Gar smirked, slowly reading through the article. "See! It says it right there!"
"Alright, I guess the place doesn't look to bad." Garfield's face grew as bright, as the August sun. "However, the advertisers taste in color is quite distasteful."
Gar laughed, "I kind of liked the colors; it really caught my eye."
"It almost burned my eyes out," she growled. The wind howled like a wolf at midnight, sending shivers up the windowpanes. "Here's the number, we should probably call the place."
"I'll do it," he volunteered. The wind let out another fantastic groan, as it made the leaves soar like butterflies. You definitely couldn't tell that it was spring.
She snapped, "No, I'll do it."
A beautiful, blonde maid made scuttled into the room, but he ignored her. This sent a wave of shock was sent through her body; Gar was acting very un-Gar like. Gar asked, "Why can't I, do it? Don't you trust me?"
"No, I don't," she responded. The burnt food was sent tumbling into the garbage disposal, leaving a bad-smelling scent behind it. "The only person I trust is myself."
"Ouch, that has to suck," Gar whispered. "What about your parents?"
Whatever color she had retained in her face disappeared, and she slammed a empty bowl into the sink. Their was fear in those lavender eyes, he realized. "That's none of your business."
"Come on! You can't run from it forever," he cried. It always saddened him that, she refused to let anyone in. Nobody could live in hiding for forever. "My parents died when I was a kid, but I haven't been locking myself away."
"You wouldn't understand, okay." Rachel hollered, the familiar fire was again in her eyes. The cobra in her soul was returning on swift wings. She was recoiling, preparing for the familiar bite. "I'm not ready to talk about it."
The biting never came, she just stared at him with her large, beautiful, amethyst eyes. He watched those gorgeous orbs fill with wetness, but the tears did not fall. He said, "I'm here for you."
Her hands returned to the dishes, but her movements were no longer grateful. The softness of her shoulders were replaced with a stiffness. It was as if, somebody had pasted a stick in-between her shoulder blades. "Please understand; I just can't talk about it."
"Alright," Gar whispered. Their was now a guilt within him; he had pushed her to far. "But, I'm ready to talk when you are."
She questioned, "How did your parents die?"
"My parents died in a boating accident." Gently, he walked over to her. He slowly began to massage her muscles. At his touch she instantly stiffened, but it did not take her long to relax. "I was ten years old."
"I'm sorry," she whispered. 'This is going to be hard.' "My father, Trigon, left when I was still a baby. He returned a little while later, but he turned abusive. One night, my mother tried to defend me and he pulverized her. I didn't know what to do, I still remember watching her die."
He silently hugged her shaking neck. The confession surprised him; he hadn't suspected a thing. "You're never alone."
"Thank you," she whispered. The hug ended, and she pulled away from him. The soreness of her old battlewounds were returning."I'm going to go rest for a little while."
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