Sprintalicious

\ UNSCRUPULOUS ///

It was almost disgusting, how he would take advantage of her frail condition repeatedly. He should have known better than to use his superior strength to carry her where she didn't want to go, to pin her against walls before settling his lips atop hers, to employ dashing, devil-may-care smiles her way when she was uncertain. It was disgusting, that was what, to continuously bully her into sitting on his lap, to snagging her at the dance before anyone else could even entertain the thought, to wrapping his arms firmly around her when she was angry, angry, angry at him. Disgusting, all around, that's who he was and what he was when he was trapping her helplessly beneath his body and showing her the best time of her life, handling her gently and making her feel alive, like a girl ought to feel, by pressing his advantages of being a man.

He could be as piggish as stripping her down to her petticoats after pulling her into the local watering hole under the guise of drying her off, or he could be as gentlemanly as kissing her knuckles before asking her softly if she would like to take a stroll through the gardens. It was all disgusting, unfair, immoral, making her fall in love with someone she simply wasn't allowed to have. He knew better that she was engaged to the king. He may have been a lowly peasant but he should have had enough brains to know right from wrong.

She certainly knew the difference, and she also knew how to fight back. She knew it was certainly fair then, that the next time he touched her, be it unlacing her corset or taking her hand, that she ought to stun him with the truth.

"I'm in love with you," she whispered to him next time. And it was perfectly unscrupulous for her to have done so.


\ RAVISHING ///

"Absolutely not, Min." Mickey clutched her arms tightly, gritting his teeth, his eyes boring straight into hers threateningly.

"But, Mickey - " she tried to protest, wiggling in his grasp and gazing up at him beseechingly in return. It wasn't every day that a girl got to show herself off a little, have a little fun. The times were changing after all. Why did he have to be so stubborn all the time?

"My final answer's no." His grip only tightened, and now he was beginning to push her back inside so that they were alone in the dark.

"Mickey, it's only - "

"Everyone will see ya," Mickey interrupted suddenly, closing the opening behind him and taking on a tone in his voice that was unheard of prior. Minnie looked at him in surprise, noticing for the first time in the dim light that he was actually blushing, bless his heart. He was still fully clothed, yet to undress himself, and at this rate Minnie wasn't certain that he ever would now that he was shuffling from foot to foot, looking her shyly up and down. He was mumbling to himself, although Minnie couldn't exactly understand what he was going on about until he arrived at, "...I'mean...don'tchya know ya look...look...?"

In his limited vocabulary he couldn't find a word for it, although when Minnie opened her lips, about to help him out, she blushed as well. They stood there in the darkness together, deciding as a couple what was right and what was wrong. How immoral or sinful it was for the whole world to look upon Minnie and see more than what it was generally allowed to. What would everyone do with her with their eyes alone? Certainly Mickey and Minnie's opinions were different.

"I belong to only you, you know," Minnie murmured at last, dipping her head so that she could catch his eye.

"I know..." he replied, giving her one last look up and down, at those beautiful curves of hers, at those naked arms and shins and feet and neckline.

"It's only a new bathing costume," she sweetly reminded him. And the times, after all, were changing. A girl could show off just a little ankle every now and again. "I'm going to be in the water with you the whole time."

"Y-yeah," Mickey remembered, starting to grin now and feeling much more at ease. He looked at her again, this time with much more appreciation. "K-kay," was his final answer, and they left the changing tent together, Mickey still in his vest, jacket, trousers, spats, bow tie, and porkpie hat, but no less than a spring in his step.


\ MOONLIT ///

In the sunlight Minnie was a golden beauty, polished in yellow, shimmering rays of light hilighting her like a jewel set in the sky. He would watch her from his cloud as he herded his flock of shooting stars, observing her as she skillfully wove clouds and constellations of stars on that magical loom of hers. The chain around her ankle would shimmer in the sunlight as well, but Mickey's eyes would only be upon the bright glint in her cheerful brown eyes, the glow of her pale skin and rosy cheeks, the twinkle of satin that she wore. In the sunlight he could see every beautiful aspect of her easily carved out for him against the reaches of space, and Mickey could love and appreciate all that Minnie was, even from so far away.

    In the evening light of the bouquet of stars Mickey had brought to her Minnie was that much lovelier. The multiple colors would catch in her eyes and reflect like the rainbow in a diamond, would dance about like the constellations she was forced to weave every day for their wicked god. The little twinkling lights would capture the smoothness of her face and swim across her skin like fireflies in the night sky, and Mickey could love the way she smiled at him gratefully and laughed.

    In the hot glow of their shooting star steed shadows were cast upon Minnie in new and unusual ways as they rode across the sea of the sky, Minnie's arms wrapped firmly around his waist. He'd look back just as she'd gasp prettily, only to see her face lit up from below and cast in wonder and excitement. She'd rest her head upon his shoulder and she was that much more gorgeous to him, lit with white and blue, yellow and red, alternating colors and hues.

    Minnie was never lovelier to him though than when she was shrouded in moonlight. She was alone with him, away from the prying eyes of the sun, the superficial gifts of star flowers, the nosing of shooting stars curious for when it would be time to head home. The chain that was usually around their ankles had been cut clean off with the help of Mickey's star-made dagger, and so the shine of metal would be gone as well. It would just be Minnie, and moonlight, and the beauty of blue haloed around her pretty head. He'd hold her in his arms and lie with her on his back, and she'd sigh and hold him in return, becoming more and more his with every passing second. The moonlight would soak into Minnie like water, she'd absorb it and glow with it from within, and unlike everything else that tried to own her, she was owning it. The moonlight was all hers.


\ WEATHERED ///

"'Nother robbery, right there on 35th," Mickey announced in a gruff voice over his paper, his foot twitching aggressively in its house slipper. He'd been announcing every crime on every page every single day since he'd started reading the newspaper again, proving to Minnie that hiding his old police radio in the garage had been fruitless. Mickey had a way of moving around just about every obstacle she threw at him, if sixty years of marriage was enough to prove anything, and keeping his mind off of crime was no exception. Few things could keep him from griping about the new chief of police, or how criminals weren't honest nowadays, or how crooked your average politician was.

Minnie sighed and continued her vacuuming, weak as her ankles had gotten over the years, trying delicately to drown out his current tirade with the noise. This only served to make Mickey speak louder, raising his voice higher and higher with each new gruesome killing that was splattered right there on the page in black and white. "George Dimpsy, shot dead in his own store during a hold-up. Police are baffled as to who th' culprits might be. Security tapes gone missin'. Hmph. Ya know back when I was Chief O'Hara's errand boy I woulda had this thing licked without security tapes. We didn't have no security tapes..."

Again, Minnie didn't spare him so much as a glance, until suddenly there was a tug at her apron strings from behind. "Oop!" she squealed in surprise, thinking for a moment that she was on her way to a broken hip, when she was instead planted where she had always found herself since she was nineteen. "Mickey!" she scolded, wriggling in his always comfortable lap.

"Are you even listenin' t' me, Min?" he asked her, equally scolding. He tapped her nose with the rolled up paper. "Man shot dead. Right in his own store. Coulda had this whole thing licked."

Minnie listened, frowned, then paused, then, after some consideration, leaned in. "I know it...but at your age..." In, in, in she leaned, and then kissed him gently on the lips before smiling. "...You oughtta start with me first." That shut him up for the rest of the afternoon.


\ POETRY ///

"Where are we now?" Minnie asked, her arms still wrapped around his neck, her eyes screwed shut and and her face buried into his shoulder. After all the worlds they'd traveled to through the books, Mickey couldn't exactly blame her. Through werewolves and monsters, earthquakes and volcanoes, and the giant squid he'd just rescued her from in that last book about nautical adventures, he was almost certain that he didn't want to look either. Each time they leaped onto a new page they found themselves completely changed in body or in costume, and their environment threatening and different.

Mickey found himself checking Minnie first just to be certain. Her legs were back, that was a good sign, although that fishy tail from the last story had been a fascinating one. She was dressed now in a drapey, loose, ivory cloth, which floated about lazily like a cloud. He clutched her tightly around the middle when he realized that the both of them were floating in the air as well, wherever this place was. He himself was back in his own suit from the printmaking shop, which confused him even more. Where on earth...?

"Dunno," Mickey answered her, and his words echoed in the still air. As soon as he said it though, there was a light, then, to his great surprise, a whole plethora of images. Blossoming from the nothingness were roses and droplets of water, moons and stars, suns and clouds, beaches and mountains, as far as the eye could see. Their surrounding was ever shifting, from one beautiful setting to the next. It was all swirling before them as though they were trapped in an ever-changing snow globe. Mickey gaped in wonder as he began to recognize some of the images before him. He'd...but it couldn't possibly be...

"My...my poems," he mumbled to himself aloud before he could help himself. They were in his journal. Which meant...

He blushed hotly as Minnie pulled away just enough to look at him. She was looking around herself now, curiously observing as the environment around her was especially paying attention to her. Once or twice something tried to gently pull her away from him, but Mickey wouldn't let it. A shimmering, reflective pool floated below them, and Minnie looked down to observe herself in it.

She was prettier than ever, even while dressed in that very simple cloth. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes were glittering, her skin was dark and smooth, every bit of her was unusually, other-worldly perfect. She was practically a goddess, and even she could see it as she glowed. "And this is what you think of me," she murmured softly, an enchanted smile on her face.

Mickey bashfully tucked his chin into his chest before clutching her tighter. "Y-yeah," he quietly muttered after the longest, most painful pause. "...S'what I think a ya."


\ VOICE ///

He'd always felt self-conscious about his. Or, when he'd forget to feel self-conscious about it, someone with a rotten agenda would come along and remind him for no other reason other than to be terrible. It had gotten especially worse when he'd first met Minnie. Hers was high, clear, and just as pretty as everything else about her. When she spoke it was like a song fluttering out with every single word, he could listen to it forever. It had all been shattered when he'd first opened his mouth to speak to her, just to ask her to dance, but all of it had been dashed. His hideous stutter, that horrid squeak in his throat, his...that. That pitch. That high, awful pitch.

He'd slapped a hand over his mouth and abandoned her completely.

Or at least he'd tried to. Her hand had caught his before he'd been able to, and before he knew it he was glancing over his shoulder to find Minnie. Minnie, gorgeous Minnie, standing in her cute little prom dress, her glittering heels, those oversized glasses, her pretty pink lips smiling at him sweetly. She pulled him closer until her hands were sliding over his chest. His heart was beating rapidly in that cheesy red tuxedo, his tongue was running over his braces in his mouth, he was staring at her with horse eyes, not daring to speak. They'd spent hours together as lab partners, but he'd never once spoken to her before now, for fear that his...his voice...

Minnie gently guided his hands around her back. She was smiling up at him like he was a regular prince charming, like she'd never seen anyone more handsome and dashing in her life, almost like the very fact that he'd asked her in the first place had changed her life. Slowly, carefully, her head found its way to his chest and she rested there. He imagined that she could hear every beat of his heart as they danced to the crooning of Karen Carpenter. Why do birds suddenly appear indeed.

"Talk to me," she murmured. And for the second time, he did.