Theodore James: Fuzzy Cuffs Ch. 01

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There was just something about them.
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The minute he laid his brown eyes on her in the library he knew there was something about her. Maybe it was the vivid purple streaks strewn about her jet-black hair that made him imagine running his slender, piano-playing fingers through it. Maybe it was the zebra-print glasses she wore that made him want to take them off her beautiful, pixie-like face so he could see her eyes. Maybe, just maybe, it was those stainless steel, fuzzy black handcuffs she had clipped to her belt loop that made his groin swell with lust.

"Theodore James Ivory! For once, can't you just help your mother? I mean, really..." the high-pitched sound of his mother's voice made him cringe, and as he continued to watch the unique girl who was three bookcases down he tried to drown it out. "... Always been so short, you're lucky you got your father's height. Theodore... Theodore!"

Suddenly he felt the sting of a pinch on the underside of his bicep and he let out a quiet yelp.

"Mum, I told you I don't like being called Theodore... Why can't you call me T.J., just like everyone else? And for Christ's sake, didja have to pinch me?" He hated that he had to turn away from the jean-clad vixen, but he knew that if he ignored his mother any longer she'd throw a fit - a loud one - right there in the library.

"Yes, I did," Fran Ivory told her 20-year-old son. Though she was furious with his tendency to somehow drown her out, she couldn't help but smile inwardly at his appearance. Like his father James, T.J. was tall - 6'1" - with broad shoulders and a broad chest, and peach-toned. If either of his parents had had a smidgeon of athleticism in them, he would've made a fabulous football player. Instead, T.J. enjoyed the simple things: writing, reading, painting, and music. He had deep brown eyes framed by thick dark lashes, a somewhat large nose, pale lips that were thin up top and a little fuller on the bottom, and a chin that was partway between being rounded and chiseled. "And you know I call you T.J. when you're not being... well, ridiculous!"

He winced, "I wasn't being ridiculous... I was..." he glanced back, wondering if the girl with the handcuffs was still there. To his dismay, she wasn't, and he quickly came to realize that he might not ever meet her in person. "I was distracted..."

"There you go again! You know, if your father could see you now, if only! Oh James would've known what to do. I do miss your father, Theodore, I miss him so much, and you know that..."

As he followed his lithe mother from the library, two books tucked into the messenger back he carried, he could've sworn he saw jet-black hair with purple streaks disappear into the house that had just been moved in to.

* * *

"Welcome to Lispy's Cafe, what can I get you Sir?" T.J. may have sounded bored to the man he was serving, but he really was, as he had told his mother so many times during the past week, distracted. So many times he had walked to the library after school that it was a wonder people hadn't started looking at him funny. Of course, maybe they had and he just didn't realize it. Vixen, as he had mentally become fond of calling her, had only been there once throughout the time he was there, and it had been her leaving when he got there.

"A double double with... an apple fritter," the customer told him, and T.J. busily entered the order into the cash register. In a quick minute he had the man's coffee and treat ready, and was collecting the change. As the man thanked him, he heard the bell above the door ring, and he looked up.

There she was. As if she had known where he worked all along. At least, that's how T.J. felt, the way she entered the Diner with such a presence you would've thought she owned the place. Glancing around, she was able to give T.J. time to take in her figure and clothing. Pear-shaped with smaller, maybe between B- and C-cup, breasts, and fuller hips, his eyes were drawn to the way her yellow Kimya Dawson t-shirt was faded and vintage looking, pulled taut over her breasts and flat stomach, and then down to her black jeans, the knees faded almost to the point of frayed. When his eyes glanced over his hips, he inhaled quietly; a pair of red fuzzy handcuffs dangled from her jeans this time.

"... Welcome... to Lispy's," he started, mentally smacking himself in the head for his hesitation. Don't make her think you're retarded, T.J.! he scolded. Instead, he offered her a warm smile, his teeth sparkling white. "How may I help you today Miss?"

The way she smacked her lips made him look at them, he couldn't help himself. They were perfect. Somewhere between pink and red, full and pouty, protruding only a little on the bottom but not at all on the top.

"Uhm..." she rested her slender hands on the countertop and leaned forward a little bit, taking her time in looking at all the different pastries and treats the cafe had to offer. "I don't know," those simple words left her lips and T.J. once more felt his groin swell beneath the jeans he wore. Her voice was soft and innocent, as well as bubbly and excited at the same time, and it was nothing - nothing - he had ever heard before. "I'm new in town. Think you could give a girl a recommendation... T.J.?" He knew she was looking down at his nametag and subconsciously he looked down at it too. It was in that second his eyes met face-to-face with the most beautiful pair of blue-green eyes he'd ever seen.

"Well, let's see, Miss, there's--"

"Oh, don't call me Miss," she murmured suddenly, leaning over the counter a little more and kicking up her feet behind her a little bit. "My name's Willow. Willow Shanks." She offered him a slender hand, and his observant gaze took them in. Just like the rest of her, her hands were fair-skinned with slender fingers, her right-hand fingernails longer than her left, and painted the same, deep shade of purple of her streaks. With a broad smile he took her hand with his own slightly calloused one, and he felt a little shock.

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry!" Quickly, Willow pulled her hand away, laughing softly. "I didn't mean to shock you..."

"Don't worry about it," he assured her, nodding his head politely. "My name's Theodore... but everyone 'round here calls me T.J. - T.J. Ivory."

"Well T.J. Ivory, it's a pleasure to meet you," she smiled at him sweetly as he returned the greeting, before she nodded towards the back. "So, what does the sir who works her recommend to a little ol' girl like me?"

"I'll tell you what," T.J. started with a smile, unsure of what her reaction might be to his next proposal. "I get off in 2 minutes. Just because you are new in town, I'll pick out something just for you, and you can wait over at that table there." He pointed towards a square table beside the window.

"Hmn," Willow paused for a long moment, weighing the pros and cons, T.J. assumed. "Fine by me. I'll meet you there... Theodore."

As she turned away he saw the grommet and red lace that was criss-crossed like a corset on the back of her t-shirt, and he realized then and there that she probably had many of the same interests as him.

* * *

"I don't believe you!" Willow practically shouted across the table at him, laughing and smiling with her mocha in hand. He was thoroughly pleased that she liked it, topped with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. "There's no way you've been single since you were 17!"

T.J., though blushing, grinned and nodded, "Single, and not particularly looking. I've always found that the best things in life are the ones worth waiting for." He took a sip of his hot chocolate and let out a soft sigh. "And how about you, Miss," he withdrew the title as he said it, fond of how upon hearing it Willow would scrunch up her pert nose and let out a quiet mew. Since she liked to call him Theodore to bug, he had decided calling her Miss would suit the same. "What's your marital status?"

Without hesitation Willow grinned, "Married 7 months," she told him, quite seriously. As he was about to open his mouth she laughed, "No, no, not married. I'm single." She paused and nodded outside at the sidewalk and street. "I just moved here - I haven't had the chance to really meet anyone, never mind find a boyfriend."

"But what about back home? You don't have one there?" T.J. raised a brow.

"T.J., this is my home now," she shrugged and took a sip of her mocha. "And no, I didn't have one back there. Big city boys are pigs, to be blunt, and I couldn't stand any one of the straight ones."

"Mmmn," T.J. paused and just took a moment to look at the young woman across from him. Within 15 minutes he had come to learn that she was 19-years-old, majoring in English, and that she did live at the house that had just been moved in to. She lived with her mother, father, and older brother, and altogether they made the Shanks'. Even if they had been talking for a while, one question had nagged T.J. for an answer, and seeing the opportunity, he finally asked. "Why handcuffs?"

"Why what?" She shook her gorgeous hair out of her face, taking a moment to figure out just what the question was. "Oh! Those!" She grinned and unclipped them from her jeans, letting the red-fuzzed items sit on the table between them. "I have a black pair too."

T.J. nodded, "Yeah. I saw them last week when I was at the library with my mom."

"Oh! Oh, oh, oh!" Willow suddenly started laughing, her eyes twinkling behind her unique glasses. "That was you? Gosh your mum was loud. I'm surprised they didn't say anything to her there - where I'm from, you can't be loud in the library unless you want to be kicked out."

"Well, she's well known around town, you know? Just one of those ladies."

"Oh." She paused, before poking the cuffs lightly. "Well, anyway, I wear them for reaction."

"Reaction?" T.J. raised a brow.

"Yeah, you know. Some people stare, some people comment. Other people get aroused," she paused and T.J. felt his cheeks grow hot. "I myself, though I've never, you know, had sex, I like the idea of being cuffed. Being teased until I can't stand it. I love that." She smiled, before shrugging and downing the last little bit of her drink. "But then, that's me. Not that you need you know. After all, aside from the fact that I know almost everything about you now, you're still a stranger."

"Hey now!" T.J. laughed. "After this heartfelt conversation we've had for..." he paused and glanced at his watch, eyes widening at the time. "An hour and a half..." he turned to her and smiled. "I'd say we're not exactly strangers."

"Fine, fine. But if we're not strangers," Willow paused and offered a small, almost shy shrug. "Care to walk me home?"

T.J. practically jumped at the opportunity and stood, leaving his mug on the table and motioning for her to do the same. In one brisk step he was behind her, pulling her chair out with ease for her to get out. Minutes later the two of them were outside.

* * *

"This town's really nice," Willow said after a long while of silence. Somewhere between the cafe and the local park she had linked her slender hand with T.J., who, though he told himself he would've preferred it be otherwise, was convinced it was a purely friendly gesture.

"Mmm, it is," he agreed softly, giving her small hand a light squeeze. Beside her now and looking down at her, he realized she was almost a full foot shorter than him, and with those cuffs dangling and bouncing off her hips, he was having a hard time keeping his attention to what was in front of him. "I've spent my whole life here. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

"Awh," the purple-streaked girl beside him laughed, tilting her head up to look at him. "I think that's sweet. To have so much dedication to the place you live."

"Yeah well, my mum wouldn't have it any other way."

"Yeah... my dad fell in love with this place the minute he saw the house in the listings. 'I've always wanted a house in a smaller town, Sweetpea, what do you say?'" Willow smiled as she imitated her father. "I'm glad we came here thought."

"Why's that?" T.J. was curious; what could a girl like Willow fall in love with so easily in the small town of Creek Rivers?

"Well..." she paused as she led him to the walkway of her house. "If we hadn't, I wouldn't have met you. And you, Theodore, are pretty darn awesome for a straight guy."

T.J. laughed, "Thanks... I think? You're pretty darn special for a straight girl, Vixen."

"Vixen?" The way she tilted her head up so quickly it made her glasses slip down her nose, revealing the full beauty of her eyes to him.

"Oops," he winced. He hadn't even realized he had called her that until afterwards. "I'm sorry. I - I saw you that one day in the library and I'd never seen anyone quite like you. I couldn't think of anything else to call you - 'Handcuff Girl' just didn't suit you and--"

"Hush, T.J.," Willow said suddenly, smiling up at him. "I don't mind... Vixen..." she purred the name he had given her as though it was the sweetest thing she had ever heard. "I like it."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But, of course, you can call me whatever you want."

Suddenly the door behind them opened and a tall, redheaded man looked outside, "Sweetpea?"

"Yeah dad, I'm sorry - I'm coming." With a smile the man closed the door, and Willow turned back to T.J. "Well I'd better go: he probably wants help putting together his bookshelf."

"Alright," T.J. mumbled quietly, feeling rather uncertain about whether he'd see her again. There was a long pause between the two of them before Willow sighed.

"I need your phone numbers..." she murmured quietly, lowering her gaze in embarrassment.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean. After all. You're my first friend and everything. And it'd be nice to, you know, how to get a hold of you if I want to, I don't know... hang out?" She shrugged a little bit and shifted from one foot to the other. Seeing her suddenly so shy and almost juvenile made T.J. smile.

"Mm, alright. I mean, I was kinda wondering when we'd be able to get together again sometime." That aside, T.J. handed Willow his phone, and she handed him hers.

"Thanks," she told him softly when he returned her cell, a small smile on her lips almost as if she was pleased.

"No, thank you, Miss." He grinned.

"Oh hush!" She laughed and gave him a light shove with her right hand, her left still tightly held in his. "Anyway, uhm, I really should go."

T.J. nodded, "Yeah... the old man might come out and whip me into shape."

The blue-green eyed beauty smiled and shook her head, "He's not like that." T.J. didn't argue. Instead, they stood there quietly for a few long moments, holding each other's hand, before she leaned up to give him a soft kiss. Her lips only brushed his and he felt his heartbeat quicken, before she pulled away. "I had a lot of fun today, T.J."

"Yeah, me too, Willow." He smiled, releasing his hand from hers.

"And I'll call you. Soon. To hang out. Okay?" As she spoke she made her way backwards towards her front door, unable to stop herself from grinning.

"Uh-huh. Take care," he smiled and waved as she opened the door.

"Goodnight."

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