A/N: Now remember, in my head Robin is played by Abigail Breslin, Sylvia is Meighan Desmond, Wallace Pickett is Adam Baldwin, and Mrs Pickett is Ginette Rhodes, and James the cameraman is Jason Mewes. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned that in author's notes past, but it never hurts to reiterate. Just keep them in mind while reading.

Disclaimer: Just for good measure, I don't own any of the actors I've mentioned above, nor the original SL cast. But they're in my sandbox and I'm playing with them.

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GRITS AND GLAMOUR - CHAPTER 3

Jessica woke to the sound of a rooster crowing. It had startled her out of a peaceful dream where she'd been laughing in a field of flowers.

Now she was groaning weakly into a pile of hay as she tried to roll over and was reminded of all the work she'd done yesterday by muscles turned stiff and aching. Her eyes still closed and groaning more loudly she managed to flop onto her back with her limbs splayed. She wondered, briefly, if she'd be allowed to have a lie in and just stay there and wallow for the rest of the day. Given Sylvia de Laude's enthusiasm for this project, she rather doubted it.

"That's about how I thought you'd feel."

Jessica's eyes snapped open and sought out the source of the voice in the pre-dawn light filtering into the loft. "Bailey?"

"Yeah, it's me," Bailey stepped closer and knelt down so Jessica could see her. "I brought you something." She lifted and waved a jar of something back and forth through the air.

Jessica would have reached out to take it but found lifting her arm to be too much effort. "What is it?"

Bailey unscrewed the top and a pungent minty odor wafted immediately to Jessica's nose. "It's a special muscle liniment Momma mixes up in the basement. Good for all the aches and pains we get workin' around here. Has the Pickett family seal of approval."

"It sounds lovely," Jessica replied, "Only I can't move to use it."

Bailey actually chuckled a little, "Well, that's what friends are for, isn't it? We've just got to get your shirt off and lay you on your belly, and then I'll fix you right up."

Jessica whimpered at the thought of moving even the little bit it would require to get relief, but she reached out anyway and allowed Bailey to help her sit up with a grunt. She struggled with her top, tangling her fingers in the fabric and getting it twisted around inadvertently trapping herself in the long shirt. Before Jessica could get too frustrated Bailey reached in and with a few swift moves had freed Jessica from the tangled fabric leaving her in a bra and the shorts she'd slept in.

Jessica realized suddenly that she was nearly half-naked in front of her crush, who had just undressed her and was about to rub her back. She wasn't shy about her body, she was a model after all, but this is Bailey. Jessica had never been so exposed in front of Bailey, and being in this state now was making her a little nervous…and a little curious about what Bailey thought, but the other girl's face was unreadable in the pre-dawn light. Even so, she had to force down an instinctive blush thinking of all the situations she'd prefer to be the reason for her state of undress. To take her mind off her decidedly non-friendly she said, "You're awfully good at that. Undress others often?"

She watched Bailey's head dip briefly, in embarrassment or humor she couldn't tell, then look up and smile, "When my sisters were little they needed help. I guess some skills just stay with a person." Bailey nudged Jessica's shoulder and wiggled her fingers, "Now lay down, I've got work to do."

She painfully turned around and spread herself along the floor, the hay making for a soft if slightly itchy pad. She felt Bailey move closer and her fingers ghost up the skin of her back until they snagged on the bra hooks.

"I'm going to unhook this, okay?" Bailey said quietly, tentatively, with a peculiar catch in her voice.

Jessica couldn't see Bailey, but she could feel every move the other girl made. She felt Bailey hold still, knowing she was waiting for Jessica's reply, so she nodded her head and said, "Yeah, sure."

Bailey's hands barely brushed her skin as she released the clasp and carefully slid the straps down Jessica's arms to get them out of the way and letting them rest partway down.

She heard Bailey move and felt when the other girl settled over her, straddling her to get better positioning. "Now, a little of this stuff goes a long way so if you need to use it again you shouldn't have to use much."

Jessica nodded again, knowing Bailey could see her a lot better than she could see Bailey. She heard a soft squelching as Bailey dipped into the ointment jar and lifted some out. Then a blissful feeling of cold fire raced across her stiff shoulders, rising in the wake of Bailey's moving hands. Bailey coated her back and then began her massage in earnest, fingers digging deeply into Jessica's muscles and rubbing away the aches and pains.

She couldn't stop a loud moan from escaping, "Oh, Bailey. That's heavenly. Feel free to never stop."

Bailey chuckled a little and kept right on going, drawing forth more pleased sounds from the British model. Her hands began at Jessica's neck and shoulders working down the length of Jessica's back, wrapping briefly around her sides to smooth out more tense muscles and using her thumbs to press all along her spine right down to the base, then running them all the way back up to her shoulders once more.

***'***

Bailey was in the middle of doing a third pass over a half-asleep and still softly moaning Jessica when Janice peered curiously around a couple of bales of hay arranged for privacy to see what all the fuss was about. Janice immediately took in the situation and nearly laughed. Here Jessica was with Bailey's hands all over her and she was falling asleep!

"Good morning, ladies," Janice said brightly, obviously startling Bailey and waking Jessica.

She watched amused as Jessica went to sit up and realized her bra was dangling off her shoulders and Bailey was still sitting on her rump. Bailey realized the situation at the same time and swung one of her legs back around so she no longer pinned Jessica while her hands, in a move that rather impressed Janice, swept Jessica's bra straps in place and hooked the garment closed again murmuring an apology for trapping her in the first place.

Jessica was finally able to sit up and stretch. Twisting this way and that, releasing appreciative hums, she said, "Oh that feels amazing. You're a godsend Bailey Pickett. You and those magical fingers of yours."

"Nah," Bailey deflected, pushing her hair behind her ears and blushing, "Momma's mix did all the hard work. I just pushed it around a bit."

"Well," Jessica said catching Bailey's hands and squeezing them, "Thank you. I feel much better."

Janice watched their byplay, noticing the way that Bailey seemed to search Jessica's face and lick her lips before replying, "Sure. Anytime." She cleared her throat to remind them of her presence and nearly laughed when they startled, Bailey rushing off muttering something about chickens and Jessica finally remembering to put her shirt on.

She turned amused eyes to her sister, "What's this all about then?"

Jessica turned to her sister, "Hm?"

"You," Janice said, rolling her eyes. She pointed at her sister, then pointed in the direction of the ladder Bailey had fled down, and back to her sister, "Shirtless. Bailey's hands. All over you. Care to explain?"

"Oh," Jessica said. "I was sore from yesterday. Bailey brought me this," she picked up the now sealed jar of ointment and held it, "and gave me a massage so I wouldn't be anymore."

Janice felt her right eyebrow tilt upwards and a smirk begin. "So let me get this straight," Janice began in an amused tone, "Bailey, the girl you like, just had her hands all over your bare back," she paused a moment to let that sink in, "and you were falling asleep?"

She watched her sister's face turn a brilliant shade of pink before covering her face with her hands, groaning, and falling backwards. Janice laughed. "Well, come on then, Miss Oblivious," Janice reached down to pull her sister up, "Time to start our day. I'm sure Sylvia has something planned for us."

***'***

James sat in the tricked out van with the video editing equipment an expression of stunned elation on his face as he reviewed the footage just caught from the hayloft. Sylvia had been right. There was totally something going on between the farm girl and that British model and this footage more than proves it!

It was going to be so easy to spin this footage, and the audio, into something tantalizing for the networks execs and for the audience.

James leaned back in his seat feeling giddy. Finally he was working on a project that would be interesting!

He loved his job.

***'***

Robin sat on the porch, with Porkers beside her, watching as Sylvia de Laude flittered between the crew vans where cameras were being signed out to their handlers and the groggy models slowly grouping up with Bailey in front of the barn. She'd seen Sylvia in conference with one of her cameramen a little while ago, their conversation had made Sylvia excited and the woman had been practically bouncing with energy since then. Robin wondered what sort of news Sylvia could have gotten from the scruffy looking man that had been so good, but before she could come to any conclusions or try to eavesdrop on the adults the farm had started to come to life and Sylvia had split from the man to rouse the models.

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, its light catching the rhinestones on Sylvia's extremely colorful outfit twinkle as she twirled around and made expansive arm gestures. Robin laid a hand between Porker's ears and scratched, distracting him from the sparkling display.

"Alright, ladies," Sylvia said when all her people had assembled, her accented voice pitched at a piercing note sure to clear away any lingering haze of sleep from everyone's minds, "Today begins the first day of you really starting to learn things out here! Isn't that exciting?"

There were muted mutterings of assent from those assembled. Robin stifled a giggle as she saw the twin models simultaneously roll their eyes and cross their arms.

Undeterred by the less than enthusiastic response, Sylvia briskly clapped her hands and continued, "We're going to split you up into two groups. One set of you will be learning how to properly milk cows from Bailey here, while the rest of you will be helping Robin collect eggs from the chickens."

Robin perked up, rising from her seat and moving towards the group with Porkers hot on her heels. She hadn't known she'd be included in all of this mess, but she was willing enough to share her work around. She shyly waved at the taller, older, incredibly pretty models and felt every inch of her fourteen year old awkwardness. She really hoped she didn't make a fool of herself in front of any of them, especially not with the cameras rolling. She didn't need her gawky uncoordinated self doing something stupid broadcast on national television. Being a teenager was hard enough without your every embarrassing moment caught on film for the whole world to see. She was very conscious of how she moved, striving not to trip. She didn't need to walk…well, like a model, she just needed to keep from landing face first in the dust.

When she reached Bailey's side she felt her big sister sling a companionable arm around her shoulders and leaned into the reassuring contact. She'd made it without tripping, it was a good morning. She saw her father lurch his way into a chair on the covered porch and prop up his broken leg on a small stool.

"Now, I'm going to assign your groups." Sylvia said, flicking a neon pink feather covered pen at the girls and readying herself to write on the clipboard which suddenly appeared in her hands, "This will be how you'll be split up for all future activities unless otherwise specified, so remember your groups. I'm going to count you off in ones and twos. Ones with Bailey, twos with Robin." She began counting the girls off, pointing with her feather pen and gesturing them towards one Pickett girl or the other. The models cooperated and allowed themselves to be split; Robin noticed that even the twins, who ended up in separate groups, complied with the divisions. "Okay, now, remember these groups. You will be doing all future group activities with these people. I believe you all have work to do, so shoo! Go, go."

Sylvia made shooing motions with her hands, flapping them at the wrists to herd the models and the Pickett girls towards their tasks. Unfortunately one of those motions caused her pen to fly out of her grasp and land point down in the dirt. Before she could pick it up Porkers had rushed across the distance to steal it and run off.

The models laughed right along with Bailey and Robin as Sylvia took off after Porkers, who was swishing his head to make the feathers on the pen shake as he ran. Robin noticed one of the cameramen following Sylvia as she charged after Porkers but the remaining cameramen, including the one who'd been talking with Sylvia earlier, stayed with them. She felt obligated to ask, "Should we help her?"

Bailey looked back at the models and Robin followed her line of sight to the twins discretely shaking their heads, "Nah. Porkers will get bored eventually; she can get her pen back when he drops it. We," she lightly squeezed Robin's shoulder, "have chores to do and people to teach them to."

Robin nodded and slipped out from under Bailey's arm, "Group two with me. This way to the chicken coops." She walked in the direction of the coops, kept a short distance from the side of the house. "I hope none of you mind feathers in your hair. The chickens can get kind of rowdy with new people."

She heard Bailey say behind her, "And this way, group one, to the dairy barn. You all are in for a treat. We don't have one of those automatic milking machines so you lucky folk get to learn how to do this by hand!" Robin could practically feel the grin in Bailey's voice.

They all heard the frustrated call of Sylvia de Laude, "Get back here you poor excuse for a football! That's my favorite pen!"

***'***

Wallace Pickett, otherwise known as Pappy, leaned back in his rocking chair and chuckled. He had always liked that pig. He waggled his fingers at his daughters when he caught them glancing at him as they trudged towards their respective chores and smiled a huge smile while he watched Porkers cavort around the yard with a huffing Sylvia and a puffing cameraman doggedly following him.

When he'd broken his leg he'd been sure he'd be going stir crazy from having to sit still, but it wasn't so bad sitting peacefully while everyone else got to work. He could get used to this.

"I don't know how I'm going to make this work," he heard the distinct voice of his wife drift into his ears as she made her way onto the porch beside him.

"Make what work, darlin'?"

"Meals," she said, clearly not impressed, "Miss de Laude informed me that none of her crew can feed itself and neither can her models, so I have to start making meals for her thirty some-odd people and our family. I'm going to be spending all day in the kitchen! I'll never get anything done!" She was about to lament a little more when Porkers went streaking by, "And what is that pig doing with a mouthful of pink feathers?"

Sylvia was still dragging herself after the pig, the flouncy fabric of her outfit sticking to her and crawling along the ground and her hair in a wild mass expanding out from her head in all directions, but she had lost the breath to call after him. Wallace nearly laughed aloud when the chunky cameraman came plodding along even more slowly than Sylvia. "She dropped her pen," he explained. "Porkers is helping," he said with a straight face.

His wife eyed him up. "Speaking of helping-"

"You know I would sweetheart," he hastily defended himself, "But I'm plum useless with this bum leg."

"Ah, but honeybunch," she grinned at him in that sweet manner that always spelled trouble for the person on the other end of it, "your hands work just fine and they're all I need." She disappeared into the house for a moment and came out carrying a monster bucket of potatoes which she plunked down beside him. She went back into the house and came out with two more buckets and a peeler. "Make yourself useful, dear," she commanded as she handed him the utensil.

"Aw, but Mary, I was going to enjoy my convalescence!"

"And now you're going to enjoy helping your wife." She leaned over and kissed his cheek, "When you're done with those I've got carrots and onions that'll be needing your attention."

He sighed. At least he'd still get to watch Porkers making sport of the city folk while he worked.

***'***

Bailey looked over her group of helpers, glad to have Jessica as a friendly face in the crowd.

"Alright, so, you all understand what to do right? We open these gates and the cows walk into the stalls. They want to be milked but they'll kick if they can, so remember to tie the back legs together with the leather thongs in each stall. Make sure everything is nice and clean before you set the bucket down. Then just get the bucket between your knees and under the udders and use the technique I showed you with the glove, squeeze but do not pull! Make sure to take a sample first so I can check for mastitis. I'll be walking around to keep an eye on everything. Got it?"

She watched the four she'd picked out to go first take their stools, Jessica among them, and opened the gates which would let the cattle funnel in. The models followed the instructions they'd been given and bent to their task. They carefully cleaned the side of the cows they were working on and the udders, drying the udders and their hands with paper towels to prevent the spread of bacteria. Hygiene was very important for quality milk, so Bailey made sure all of this was done right so they didn't spoil anything.

Each took a sample into the dark containers she'd handed out and waited for her to check them and the teats of each cow, lecturing the whole time about proper health care for milking cows, before hesitantly beginning the milking process. Of course there were missteps; models that simply couldn't get the hang of the technique, or cramped up from being positioned mostly under the cow to milk them, and even those that accidentally knocked their buckets over after filling them, but on the whole they did very well.

"What do I do when the bucket is full?" Jessica asked, leaning back with a filled bucket in her hands.

Bailey felt her eyebrows shoot up. A full bucket from one cow almost never happened, much less getting a full bucket from an amateur farm hand. Usually there was poor technique, poor aim, and fidgeting preventing a full bucket from being drawn but somehow Jessica had managed it. "Wow," she said, "Uh, full buckets get poured into this bulk tank," she indicated a large tank set up against one wall, "just pop it open here and dump it in."

"Does this milk get treated in that?" a darkly tanned girl asked.

"It gets chilled but it doesn't need to be treated for anything," Bailey replied, "Milk from healthy cows is pretty safe for people to drink. It's how milk used to be drunk before mass production demanded the homogenization and pasteurization processes. It's also safe to use in making cheeses, butter, yogurt and heavy cream. Want to try it? It's best fresh."

Another one asked, "What's the hemmo-hamo-genation…that thing you said?"

"The homogenization process? It's just a technique to treat milk to keep the cream from separating," Bailey explained, "We put it in this tank to chill it so it'll keep longer and so the cream does separate so we can take it out to make whipped cream, butter, sour cream, ice cream, and half and half. Pasteurization is a heating and cooling process that kills microorganisms in the milk that can be harmful to humans, mostly because the average digestive system can't handle how rich the milk is. The two processes together are what make sure that one gallon of milk in the super market is just like any other gallon and safe for mass consumption. The fresh milk here might give you diarrhea, but it's not going to kill you…Well, not unless you're allergic to milk, in which case you'll need to inform me immediately so we can get some soy milk or something because we generally just drink this stuff with every meal. So, are there any takers on giving it a taste straight from the bucket?"

Bailey's eyes scanned over the milling models, each avoiding Bailey's eyes. She grinned; she hadn't expected any of them to take her up on the offer. Unless you grew up on a farm you typically forgot that milk actually came from cows, and so seeing them get milked and then being offered the immediate product tended to put a person off. "Alright, well, we've got-"

"I'll try it," Bailey nearly beamed when she heard Jessica's voice. The model was obviously unsure about whether she really wanted to try it, but she was putting on a brave face and stepping forward so Bailey dipped a cup in a bucket and proffered it to the nervous Brit. Jessica gently brought the cup to her lips and tipped it, taking a healthy sip. "My goodness, that's thick! Rich," she said in surprise, "Doesn't really taste like milk from the market, does it? It's a bit odd having it warm. But it's quite good."

When Jessica smiled, pleased with herself, Bailey smiled back. She was proud of her friend for being brave enough to try this when no one else would. "It is good. Anyone else want to try it?" When there were no takers Bailey shrugged and tipped the rest of the bucket into the bulk tank. "Okay, then. We've got another twenty-eight cows to milk so let's get back to work. Thos who've already milked a cow switch places with someone who hasn't. You'll all have to learn, best learn now. We're going to have to do this all again just before sunset and the faster you learn the faster we'll be finished."

***'***

Robin stomped onto the porch covered in egg yolk and feathers, carrying a basket of eggs, and ready to spit fire. The models who'd been in her charge sheepishly huddled in the dirt driveway, similarly covered in muck.

Wallace looked up from where he was finishing peeling his thirty-fourth potato to take in his daughter, "Whoa there, little bird. What happened to you?"

Robin glowered at her father and said through gritted teeth, "I don't want to talk about it."

In the distance they both heard a plaintive cry, "Just stop! Please, piggy! I just want my pen back!"

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A/N: I've decided that the unfortunate unnamed cameraman chasing after Porkers and Sylvia will be Drew Carey. So, another chapter down, what do you think?