Marge found herself standing on the doorstep of the Flanders' residence, tightly clutching an empty sugar jar. Her knuckles were white from the grip. She was using it as an excuse to pay a visit, although she had a feeling that it was a bit transparent. Swallowing hard, she knocked gently on the door.
Almost immediately, the door swung open to reveal Ned. He was clad in a white t-shirt that was soaked with sweat from his evening workout, subtly emphasizing his muscular build. The sight caught Marge off guard and she found herself blushing.
"Hey there, Mrs. Simpson! What can I do ya for?" Ned greeted her, all smiles.
"I... um... we ran out of sugar," she managed to say, raising the jar as proof. Her heart pounded in her chest.
"Of course! I'll get you some right away," Ned quickly responded, disappearing into the house with Marge's jar. She took the opportunity to compose herself, taking a deep breath to steady her racing heart.
With Ned gone from the doorway, Marge's gaze began to wander around the Flanders' cozy foyer. The hallway was adorned with an array of framed photographs, mostly featuring Ned's boys, Todd and Rod. The young Flanders were captured in various moments of youthful activities—camping trips with their grandparents, fishing outings, and even hiking up what looked like a small mountain.
The photos showcased an entirely different family life to the Simpsons'. Marge was struck by how involved Ned seemed to be in his children's lives, each picture a heartfelt preview to his attentive fatherhood.
Further down the hallway, a corkboard caught her eye. It was filled with children's drawings and crafts—clumsy sketches of the family, hand-made clay jewelry, and popsicle-stick crosses. Each piece seemed to have been lovingly preserved, a simple yet powerful tribute to a father's love for his kids.
A warm feeling spread through her. She knew that Ned was a bit quirky, with his unusual sayings and overly cheerful demeanor, but these glimpses into his life reinforced what a good man he was at his core.
Her mind involuntarily wandered to her own home. Just the day before, Lisa had proudly presented a drawing she'd made at school. Homer had admired it briefly before using the paper to wrap up a leftover burger from dinner, muttering something about "art serving function." The contrast made Marge sigh.
When Ned returned, he held out the jar that was now filled with sugar. As Marge extended her hand to take it, their fingers grazed each other's. A spark seemed to fly through her, and she noticed Ned's eyes momentarily widen as if he felt it too.
"Wow, um, this sugar must be electrified, huh?" Ned chuckled nervously, breaking the tension that had enveloped them.
Marge laughed awkwardly, and for a moment, both seemed at a loss for words. It was as if they were both grappling with a bewildering sense of attraction. Like two magnets, they found themselves involuntarily leaning closer to each other.
Ned stammered, "It's always a shocker to find out how much we have in common. Like our, um, love for sugar!"
Marge blushed, grasping for words. "Oh yes, sugar! A pantry essential, and... and a lifesaver in coffee."
"Absolutely! I reckon coffee without sugar is like a Sunday morning without a hymn," Ned added, inching imperceptibly closer. His mind had returned to the forbidden tape that kept playing every night when he laid awake in his bed. Marge sitting on the deck chair, cooing at him sensually: "I've been waiting for you."
Their eyes met, and there was a pause—a heavy, charged pause—where time seemed to slow down. Both leaned in, as if the gravitational pull of the moment was too compelling to resist.
Just as their lips nearly touched, a loud car backfire rang out in the distance. The sound jolted them out of their bubble, making them pull away as if they'd been snapped back by a rubber band.
"Good golly, was that the Rapture or just a rusty old Ford?" Ned exclaimed, visibly rattled.
Internally, Ned chastised himself.'What in the Holy Smokin' Mackerel were you thinking, Flanders? This is Marge Simpson, your neighbor's wife! It's like the Lord himself sent that backfire as a warning shot. Steer clear of temptation, Neddy, steer clear!'
Marge took a deep breath to steady herself. The near-miss left them both flustered, with the jar of sugar suddenly feeling like the only safe topic of conversation. Marge clutched it as if it were a lifebuoy in a stormy sea.
"I, um, better get going," Marge said hurriedly, gripping the jar like her life depended on it. "Thanks for the sugar." She mumbled a quick farewell and sped off, leaving Ned on his doorstep, staring after her in a state of stunned confusion.
As she made her way home, her mind swirled. She couldn't believe she had come so close to crossing a line that should never be crossed, and in broad daylight, no less. 'What are you doing, Marge? This is Ned Flanders we're talking about,' she berated herself. 'You're a married woman! You need to steer clear of any situation that could get you both in trouble.' With that resolve, she swore to herself that from this day on, she'd maintain a safe distance from Ned Flanders.
Earlier at the Simpsons kitchen, Lisa was poking around the pantry for something to snack on. Her fingers grazed something grainy, and she pulled it out to discover a nearly full jar of sugar, shoved all the way at the back of a shelf. Her brows knitted together in puzzlement. Hadn't her mom just gone out to borrow some sugar?
A/N: Thank you, Honeyque, for the lovely review! 3 As to your question, this will definitely eventually become a more intimate story. I'm not sure how deep into 50 Shades of Gray territory this will delve, but we're definitely not in the "teen-friendly" country. :'D
Ned and Marge flirting is actually canon in multiple Simpsons episodes. This is by far the hottest and what gave me the inspiration for the fic!
youtube dot com /watch?v=d8fHNYgTDsA