**might get a bit M-ish by chapter 5… not sure what I'm editing out yet. Away this weekend but will try to finish posting within the week**

S2 E3 – A Most Delicate Operation

Part 1 of 5

Tipping has offered to 'fix' Richard's nose… make it more aquiline… and… naturally… Richard is fretting! Later that day, in the relative cool of the evening, he just has to get a second opinion. "Is there anything really wrong with my nose?" he asks Camille in a slightly worried tone.

She smiles privately. She had overheard the quiet interaction between Richard and Tipping earlier and she is quite frankly AMAZED that he has held out this long before seeking reassurance. She is also extremely gratified that he has sought solace from HER. Now is her chance to console him while proving once more that he can depend upon her for support… comfort… and maybe much more…

She studies his face for a few moments, "Oh, no, I don't THINK so." This makes him frown. She tsks and steps in closer, "Let me see." She places her hands on his jawline and tilts his face up a bit then gently turns it side to side. She slowly draws a fingertip from his brow, down the ridge of his nose and beneath to rest in his philtrum. Her fingertip rests there a beat too long. His eyes begin to look anxious… what does she see?

She shakes her head, "Definitely not. Your nose is perfect as is. Individual and distinct. All our bodies should be so, don't you think?" She reluctantly steps back but not as far as she'd been moments ago… the game is afoot and she will press whatever little advantage he affords her.

"Well, absolutely, but…"

"But?"

"Well, I've always wished I were a bit taller…" he admits with a chagrined laugh.

"Nonsense! You are exactly the right height…" … for me, she thinks, taking a half step closer.

He nods and sighs, "Well, it's not likely I'll ever get any improvements done this late in the game."

"Game?"

He looks out over the ocean and sounds a bit forlorn, "Oh, you know… Life. It's false advertising, anyway. I'm still having nightmares about the surgery I witnessed with Tipping." He looks back to her, notices how close she is, and thinks she is wonderfully supportive… and comforting. He's suddenly very glad that she's in his life… even if… well, even if…

He sighs, No sense wishing for the moon, Poole, give it up. He looks back out over the ocean, "It was like watching someone sew up tears in an old coat. The human body deserves a bit more respect, I think."

He hasn't moved away. He hasn't chastised her for being too close. She takes a small gamble and touches his forearm, "You warned me you'd be scarred for life. ARE you… do you think? Scarred?"

He seems to find her hand agreeable to look at, "Not really, no. The memory fades in self defense."

"Oh, good." She gives his arm a gentle squeeze.

This makes him look up, "Why good?"

"Well, I've always felt a bit… lacking. Tipping offered to enhance ME if…"

His body goes rigid and her hand is shaken off as he snaps to attention, "NO! He didn't? Absolutely not! He had no right to imply that you are imperfect in ANY way! The nerve of the man!" Richard is pacing now, short sharp strides that vibrate with indignation. He wheels about and points a finger at her, "How dare he? I've a good mind to tell him where he can stuff his offers!"

"Richard…" She takes cautious steps, draws nearer, places her hand back on his arm, Honestly! I never know WHAT is going to set him off! I must be mad to think… mad to hope! Looking at him now, his eyes flashing and his face grim, she knows there is absolutely no chance of calling off her quest. As long as he is here, she will try.

He is still in full spate, "As a matter of fact, I'm sure I can find some misdemeanor to create trouble for him if he doesn't pull in his horns and leave well enough alone! I'll…"

"Richard!"

"What?"

"You're ranting… again."

"Well, honestly! This definitely deserves a rant! You can't just walk up to a woman and say 'Oh, by the way, your nose needs work or your lips need plumping or…"

"It's not my face," she says with a smile... which slowly fades as his words penetrate. "You think my face needs work?" Now SHE steps away. Her hands fly to her cheeks… sweep over her lips…

He throws his hands up in sudden realization, "NO! No, no, no, no… I would never presume…" He sees the aghast look in her eyes, drops his hands, and slumps in defeat, "Oh, dear, I know THAT look. Go ahead, yell at me. I deserve it. I have to learn to keep quiet around you." He turns away once more.

She snaps out of her worry, "No, please don't. It's the only way I can learn anything about you at all." She steps lightly up to his back and says low, "Do you know… sometimes it's why I pick fights with you… in the hopes that you will let something slip that I can add to my little store of 'Poole-isms'?"

He looks over his shoulder at her, "Wouldn't it be easier to just talk?"

She grins, "It would be… if you actually talked."

"Oh. Sorry." He looks back out to the waves.

She puts her hands on her hips and returns to her quest, "Now, back to my face…"

He sighs in utter surrender, "Your face is lovely. Don't let him touch your face. What if you scar like poor Valerie Dupree?"

"If I DID scar, would you think me ugly?"

"Of course not… you will always be beautiful…" He shuts up, passes a hand over his lips, looks down.

"Uh-huh!" She thinks about this for a moment then lobs a bombshell, "Well... would I be more beautiful if I had bigger breasts?"

The result is everything she could have hoped for! He pivots right around to stare at her, "WHAT?!"

END – Part 1