Participants:
featuring
| Scene Title | American Flags and Soccer Balls |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Sometimes a man just wants to feel pretty. |
| Date | January 6, 2010 |
Victoria's Secret
A day off on a quiet Thursday has JJ at the mall again. He's becoming quite the shopaholic, blaming it on the bigger paycheck burning a hole in his Rock & Republic jeans' pockets. He walks along, one hand on a Macy's bags and the other on his iPhone before the pink oasis of Victoria's Secret comes into view, a beacon of glowing rose light.
His last expedition into the mysteriously feminine store was interrupted by a co-worker, and he hasn't managed to look again in peace. While he'd opted for iTunes gift cards for his coworkers and iPod touches for his friends, he is still curious about the silk and satin garments he left behind when Emerson showed up.
That, and there was a kinda cute shop girl that day that he had been eyeing before the statuesque redhead joined him. A girl that couldn't break him in two or shoot better than him in a firefight might be something to look into, after all.
JJ glances left, right, left again, and then crosses the checkerboard tile of the mall's concourse to step onto the pink and pinker striped carpet of the lingerie store.
A man who has no compunction about being in a lingerie store, hey it's just clothing and sometimes a man needs to feel pretty too. Edgar is leafing through the selection of frilly undergarments looking for exactly the right one. Thanks to his wife's lucrative business and his.. off the cuff work… he's also got a pocket full of cash to burn and no lighter.
He's already got five or six pairs looped over one arm and the seven for $30 bin is being raided for even more. "'Ey, y'go' any o' those silky ones?" He calls out to the woman behind the counter, possibly the very same one the soldier has his eye on. "Y'know… like say you're a really really fast runner, righ'? Y'don' want lace coz it chafes sumthen 'orrible."
It probably isn't very often that people hear the telltale murmur of a baby in Victoria's Secret, maybe even less often that a new mom might feel bold enough to take him. But there she is, patiently milling through a rack of multicolored brassieres. Delilah has her son with her, in a sense that he is currently bundled on her front with his face looking out at the brilliantly bright colors, not so much the breast shapes. Well. Considering, maybe he is looking at those, too. There was at least one young woman that works there giving the baby cute faces when they came in, but thankfully nobody has actually had an issue.
"What do you think? I think she'd like this one." Delilah takes down a lacy, cream colored set, though Walter seems more impressed by the one to his left, which is neon green.
Pale green eyes widen and brows arch as Edgar talks about chafing and lace, and JJ lets out a low whistle to himself. He can't help but wonder if Felix has the same problem, but he's not about to ask the Russian.
Rather than ask questions of any of the girls working there, the young man moves to a rack somewhere between Delilah and Edgar, and picks up the first thing his hand falls on, lifting it to scrutinize its usefulness for anyone in his life.
His head tilts as he squints at a thong that could hardly fall into the useful category. "What the hell do they even bother wearing something like this for?" he wonders aloud, glancing over at Edgar, perhaps some insight, then looking over at Delilah. "I mean, this can't cover anything that needs covering…"
Reaching out, Edgar flips up the lacy bit from JJ's fingers and examines it for a second before dropping it back in his hand. "No no, y'see, tha's no' for wearin' see?" Dropping his own pile of selections, he grabs one that's similar but in a different color and stretches it between two fingers. "Thes 'ere, they call i' dental floss. Fer when the edible kind ge' stuck in yer teeth."
No one can say that Edgar Smythe doesn't have a little bit of self control, sauntering over to another table, he grabs a box and heads back to where the young man is standing. "These 'ere, thes is more wha' you're lookin' for. Eff yer goin'ta venture inta the land o' the pretty y'need teh ge' acclamated to i' firs'. See?" A set of matching boycut satin lace panties from the PINK line is deposited into his hands for his perusal. Edgar would make a great salesman here. He knows it.
"Thongs were invented as menswear, that's why they only have the front." Delilah offers this tidbit of information with a sidle past her end of the shelves to get a better look at the man asking the question, thong in hand. She grins at the other stranger when he answers as only another man could. "He's right, you know. Unless you know she likes g-strings it probably isn't a good idea to buy her any. Assuming they're for someone you know, and you're not just in here because, or doing- ah- personal shopping."
The baby at her front is watching the bra in her hands, as she shifts to hang it back up finally looking around himself and apparently taking small glee in noticing that people are talking.
"Men's wear? Really?" JJ gives the g-string a dubious look, then arches a brow at the ginger woman to wonder why she knows so much about lingerie, other than the double-X chromosome giving her innate knowledge. His green eyes widen a touch more and he tosses the panties back into their bin and puts his hands down like he was caught with stolen goods.
Those eyes drop to the baby and then the bra and then back and he smirks and gives a shake of his head. Edgar's suggestion gets a nod. "Yeah, those are much more practical. And no, um, I am not buying for me or … or anyone, really." His cheeks color a touch. "I just … I guess I was curious. I never dated a girl into this kinda shit," he says, gesturing to the frilly things in the store. "Practical girls, you know. With full-bottomed panties that do what underwears should."
Arching an eyebrow high up, Edgar shakes his head at JJ. "Those'r the kinda women yeh won'teh stay away from, boy. Any woman tha' wears pants like tha'.. they's jus' preparin' fer more room teh grow. An' unless she's 'avin' yer baby— " A small glance is thrown in Delilah's direction, "Like tha' young girl," pause "good on yeh, doin' a man proud." Another small pause. "— then yeh really wan'teh stay away 'coz they'll jus' grab yer knackers n' 'ave 'em fer lunch."
The expression on the older man's face says 'trust me'.
"Now, my wife," that word is enunciated and said more proudly than any other word ever could be in the English language, "she likes the soft kind. She's a very soft woman.. my Lydia.. Don' ge' the wrong idea though, she could 'ave me crippled wi' a look… bu' she's very very womanly… y'know?"
Delilah stares a little, she can't help it. He just looks so out of his element, his explanation and seeming inability to know about these things coming off more like a teenage boy than a grown man. Interesting. She smiles a bit, even if it also makes him sound a little like a creep. Going in here because he can? Really. Delilah makes an inward notation, something that might have the word 'virgin' in it. "Nothing wrong with a girl with curves, love." The redhead finally speaks up on Edgar's case.
"I swear, you guys put way too much faith in our ability to look good all the time." Delilah laughs now, the noise mostly for herself before she scans over the racks again to find something more suitable. "If he likes girls with the full-arse panties, I say go fer'it…" That one was for JJ.
JJ's eyes widen at Edgar and he laughs a little, broad grin splitting his face, eyes sparkling merrily. "Nah, they were good girls, just… you know. Active. Into … you know, like sports and stuff? Not into prancing around in whatever you'd need that dental floss for," he says with another nod toward the bin he'd tossed the panties in.
He squints at Edgar and then Delilah. "Oooh, are you his wife? Lydia? Is this little tyke yours?" he adds, nodding to the little baby and then back to Edgar. "I thought you were separate, but you're both English and … she's kinda soft and womanly, right?" He nods to Delilah. "You'd look lovely in that green one," he adds, nodding to the lime green one the baby seemed to prefer.
A small tilt to look at the baby and a subconscious wince takes over Edgar's face. Not that Walter's nothing but adorable, he's just not… a knife… or something that the Carnie can relate to. "No, no, yer 'air's red, righ'? Yeh gotteh go wi' wha' y'ave. If yeh go' red 'air, then you wear red an' orange an' purple. Things wi' red in'em." There's a liberal roll of the carnie's blue eyes before he picks up a pair of blue knickers and holds them up. "See, 'coz my eyes'r blue, I'd be wearin' these.. See? Coz they match."
He's also wearing what is quite possibly the strangest combination of cast off clothing that the soldier and young mother might have ever seen. Brown workboots that have been spray painted black, a pair of brown worn down corduroys, a black t-shirt with some sort of faded Star Wars Darth Maul print, and a fleece zip up overtop all of it.
Walter also seems newly invested in a black and white one, some odd pattern of swirls on it. Delilah laughs a bit before Edgar launches into his talk about matching colors. "I'm not, with him I mean. I'm on my lonesome today." And no ring either, which could mean different things for different people. She smiles as she gets an awkwardly bad lesson in color. "Complimentary colors are not always other shades of what you already have, but they work sometimes. I'm not a purple person myself."
"I dunno bout him, but I'd like to see you in those too." Just sayin'. "And I think that green one was super cute too. Walter has good taste." Lilah's hand comes around to hold his teensy baby-fingers.
After glancing at Edgar and looking a little warily at his color lessons, JJ looks back to Delilah and makes a little eesh sort of face. Can you believe this guy?
But then there's another flash of that broad grin. "I'm sure he gets it from his mother, along with his spectacular hair," he says. He drops his voice a little conspiratorially, "Just so you don't think I'm a total nut job, there was a cute little thing in here the week of Christmas but I got scared away by a coworker, so I was sorta looking around to see if she was here."
He nods to the shop clerks who are watching the odd trio — one in her mid 40s at least, another a little unfortunately on the solid side of things, and the third a guy. "None of them are her, though," he whispers.
Green eyes sneak back to Edgar. "Do you really wear those?"
"'Ey now, there ain' nothin' wrong wi' wantin' teh feel pretty sometimes. Lotseh men dress up like women, I use'teh work with some've the finest 'alf men 'alf women this side o' the Pacific. Sum've them prob'ly could give you a run fer wha' yeh go'." Note, Edgar didn't confirm or deny wearing women's underwear. Tossing a few of the pairs he's selected back, he picks up a few different colors from the pile until he has a rainbow variety dripping from his fingers.
"'Sides… et's usually the ones tha' act like they ain't thought've i' an' sneak inteh places like this… Thems the ones 'oo're really dressin' up." The carnie flashes a smile to both the soldier and the young mother before turning toward the counter.
"Definitely both, his father doesn't have much of an eye." Not to speak of, anyway. Teo has his moments of brilliance. Delilah leans in a little when JJ gets whispery, nodding along and giving the employees a sly little glance. "I see… hm. I hope you have better luck the next time." She tries and fails to not be distracted by Edgar, who she does note- never said whether or not he wears them himself.
"I know a couple freaky girls you might think were normal." Dee gives JJ the tiniest of knowing winks, one hand on the bottom of the baby carrier and the other carrying her to roam a little and take down the green piece. "Protip, pal, come around shopping and walk past this store a couple times, if she's not in here you don't have to come in touching all the satin, right?" It sounds so simple!
The young man's face colors a little and he nods. "Got it. No touchy the satin unless I'm buying. Good advice for just about everywhere really!" He looks pleased with his double entendre of sorts, before scowling a little. "Wait, why do you think I want freaky girls?" JJ asks suddenly. "You think I'm a freak or something? 'Cause I swear to God I'm not a freak! I'm like… just… you know."
JJ clears his throat. "All American wholesome American Pie kinda normal guy!" His eyes dart to Edgar's retreating back, then back to Delilah as if to suggest he's not like the speedster buying the skivvies.
Not about to let such an attractive opportunity pass him by, Edgar steps up to the gentleman behind the counter, beaming with a smile. Speaking in a low voice and not indicating to the pair of people he's just finished talking to, the speedster passes over the undies one by one. The salesman gives an 'aahhh' and an understanding nod of the head as he bags the purchases, putting an extra scoop of smelly beads into the carnie's bag. He did spend a small fortune in underwear, he deserves an extra scoop.
With a wave, Edgar and his fauxhawk make their way out of the store. He's got little too wide of a smile on his face and there's just a bit too much of a twinkle in his eye. "See you 'round~" is the parting sing song from the grifter.
Not even a moment later is when the salesman behind the counter glides up behind JJ. Delilah just might recognize him from a stripping stint in a bakery she used to work at.
"I don't care if you are or not, I'm just speaking from experience." Delilah is so very profound with all of this, even if she doesn't realize it. "But every guy will go out with a freaky girl sooner or later. Best to just figure out if you like that, mm?" She grins at JJ, at this, though her expression falters into something more puzzled when she sees the fellow just past his shoulder and gives him a bit of a squint. Do I know that gu- oh- oh no-
Big brown eyes dart back to JJ, probably a smidgen too late to warn him of anything- anyone- that may or may not happen.
"See ya, bro," JJ calls after Edgar, before he grins at Delilah and shakes his head. "Define freaky, ma'am?" JJ says with some amusement and some embarrassment before seeing Dee's expression change. His brows quirk with confusion, and he turns to look over his shoulder, brows rising when he sees the man coming their way.
He gives the male clerk a smile and a polite nod. "I'm just looking. This lady might need some help," he says, helpfully. He glances down at Walter again, then follows the baby's gaze to more bras and shakes his head.
Nameless Twentysomething Guy just smiles and places his hands behind his back. "Yes, well, I'm here to help you just look. You think you're a women's large?" Squinting, he leans to the side and checks out JJ's posterior. Professionally checking him out, of course, nothing personal going on here. When he straightens, he quickly begins sifting through the assortment of skivvies and holds up a pearlescent pink pair and touches them against JJ's cheek.
"Now feel those, how'd you like to feel that against your skin, hmm?" Just looking… right.
"Oh." Delilah's response is not helpful at all, and she finds herself staring out of awe- it is an odd kind of awe, at least. That it happened in the first place! She is also trying as hard as possible not to start laughing. In fact, she even puts her fingers over her mouth.
Walter, on the other hand, has no compunctions in laughing; he feels the buried chortle in her chest and he opens his mouth in a toothless little smirk.
Green eyes open wide and cheeks flush as JJ steps away from the satin and the hand holding it. "Uh. No. I … no, but thanks," he mutters, taking another wide step back, before narrowing his gaze down at the baby chortling at him. "Oh, you think this is funny, d'you?" he says, but he can't help but grin at the baby's laughter, and he smiles back at Delilah, if a bit chagrined.
"I … yeah. It was nice meeting you, miss…" he says, glancing back at the salesman and shaking his head. "I'm sure she could use your help, buddy. I … I'm an Old Navy boxers man myself. I like the little dogs playing with frisbees. And the American flags. And soccer balls."
Wait, that last one makes him sound like he's seven.
"Gotta go."
This will be the last time he enters this store.