Spring Cleaning
Without expecting to be, Oliver and you have been in Europe for over three months. Your simple weekend assignment became much more complicated than you planned for. Your happiness at being home is a bit subdued by the large cobwebs that have started to claim the interior of Oliver's lighthouse.
He is intent on clearing up the signs of disuse before he even unpacks and you are intent on helping him. You both change out of your travel clothes and into tee shirts and jeans. Oliver leaves to start cleaning the kitchen and you stay put deciding to begin with the bedroom.
You strip down the bedding and take it down to the washing machine. When you return, you open a window to air out the room. You finish dusting the furniture and begin to vacuum. The loud clanging of pans from the kitchen carries even over the sound of the machine. You turn it off and head into Oliver's terrain.
"You okay? What was that ba…" You never finish your sentence. Before you stands Oliver wearing yellow rubber gloves and an apron proclaiming "Just put down the chocolate and nobody gets hurt."
A smirk spreads across your face. Oliver rolls his eyes. "Don't even start."
"Who's starting? I'm finished. With the bedroom at least. I'm going to get the vacuum and get the living room going."
"I'll come help as soon as I'm done here."
You dust, vacuum and open the windows in the living room as well. When Oliver finally joins you, you're cleaning out the dresser's drawers. He moves to the closet and begins taking down boxes to sort through. In your explorations, you find a black binder filled with pages of plastic baseball card protectors. Only in this binder, the pages are full of photo ID's for over a hundred of Oliver's many aliases. You flip a couple of pages in and smile. These are names he used before your time together. You peruse the many pictures, some of them sporting Oliver in disguise. "Oh my God!"
Oliver bangs his head on a shelf in the closet. "What? Did you hurt yourself?"
"No. Look at this perm you had! And that mustache with it." He looks confused. You hold up the binder so that he can see what you're looking at. "William Moxley the third?"
"Oh yes. That one."
"Don't tell me. The rest of the outfit was some Travolta disco suit knock-off with gold chains?"
"It was 1983. The French Riviera. There was this lovely Persian woman who was..."
"Okay, that's enough. I don't want to hear anymore of this anecdote."
"Jealous."
"With reason," you exchange smiles. You go back to your separate tasks.
Moments later, you hear Oliver softly laughing from the closet. "What's the funny?"
"This." He holds up a large picture of you, dressed as Boy George, next to a poster of Boy George.
"Hey, it was Halloween and I was only 13! What would be really funny is if you find a big picture of YOU dressed as Boy George."
"Oh yes, and what about this?" He pulls out a gold sequined bikini top.
You run over to him and try to take it from his hands. "That’s none of your business." He holds it over your head.
"You don't get it back till I hear the story." You make a jump for it. He catches you around the waist with one arm and pulls you to him for a kiss.
"Okay, I took a belly dancing class in College. I was very bad at it and I looked even worse in the costume."
"Do you think it would still fit?"
You grin at him. "Why?"
"Because, I'd like to see it on you." He puts his forehead to yours, looking right into your eyes. In a growly voice that promises much to come he says, "You won't have to wear it for long." After another long convincing kiss, you sigh and allow yourself to be led into the bedroom.
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| The character of Oliver Sampson and the show VR.5 were created by John Sacret Young and are © Samoset Productions and Rysher Entertainment. No infringement is intended and no profits are being made. |