Pick'N'Mix Mods for The Sims 2

27 - Smugglers' Cove

Analise slumped breathless to the floor, her back to the door.

The 'Milk Tray' man crossed her line of sight in the living room.

There was a splash, then he appeared again and smiled at her. She raised her hands to cover her breasts, then he was gone. He reappeared, threw some clothes towards her, and disappeared. She snatched the bikini top from where it had landed in front of her and put it on. She grabbed the T-shirt she'd bought to sleep in and pulled that over her head. She flicked the other items around the floor and was just about to call out "Hey, what about some knickers", when he reappeared. "We have to go", he said, and disappeared. She grabbed Mel's ripped off, butt hugging, shortie-shorts. 'That zip'll chafe', her mind informed her. She grabbed the sarong and swapped the beach-towel for something designed for the job. He reappeared, and tossed a pair of beach shoes at her, "Now", and disappeared again.

In a dream, Analise entered the living room; it was a tip. Books had been pulled from the shelves, cushions ripped, the usual 'hired thugs trash a room' film-scene filler stuff.

The master bedroom was the same. Her clothes were strewn over the floor, the mattress had been slashed, etc, etc, etc. The 'Milk Tray' man was sat on the end of the bed, casually slitting the lining from her suitcase and transferring bundles of $1000 Simolean notes into a small rucksack. He tossed her two purses in after them, zipped it up and swung it onto his shoulder. He offered her his hand, "Come on, Annie". She moved towards her phone, it was still miraculously on the bed-side table. "Leave it", he said, stepping into her path, his hand still outstretched. He led her onto the veranda and helped her into the little boat she'd seen moored under the chalet. Passing her the rucksack, he jumped down and got the boat underway. Against all logic, she felt secure with him.

As they cleared the headland, the waves picked up and spray whipped over them. Despite the noon day sun, she shivered. The 'Milk Tray' man lifted his arm and she snuggled in close.

She inhaled deeply; she knew that musk, his scent. The gossamer thin, sapphire blue, baby-doll floated in the wind before her. She wriggled into a more comfortable position, his arm clamped tightly against her side; her eyes closed and she dozed.

"We're here", he said, nudging her awake. The boat went 'put, put, put, phip, put, put ...' as they motored slowly through a narrow cleft, beyond which was the most beautiful place she'd ever seen.

Waves lapped gently on a shallow, curved sandy beach. About 200 yards across, the cove was embraced by steep, palm and date tree covered, slopes. Above the tide line the beach flattened and was shrouded in short grasses and delicate flowers, before rising to more, tree covered, steep slopes. Bird song filled the air. To one side, a simple beach hut had been built on a raised platform. Flowering tropical vines entwined the trellis covering the gap, buzzing insects darted among the flowers in search of sweet reward. A simple wind-pump rose above the hut, creaking slowly in the sea-breeze. Uneven steps lead from the beach to the small veranda. Above the steps, someone had burnt into a sun-bleached piece of drift-wood 'Snuggler's Cove' (the second hump of the m had been scratched out).

The boat crunched into the sand, 'Milk Tray' man leapt from the bow and dragged it higher.

"So", he said, offering her his hand, "what's the plan now Annie?"

"Right now, I need a shower"

"Typical!", he laughed, "Bloody typical. Leave me to do all the work."

Analise walked up the beach and into the hut, it was a single room, dominated by a double bed. A gas stove and a small table with mismatched chairs filled one corner.

Another door lead out back. Outside there was a wall-mounted shower head, fed from a sun-heated metal tank on the roof.

A shelf under the overhang housed a mismatch of towels; a smaller one had numerous bottles and sachets from various hotels around the world. Analise stripped, chucking her few clothes back through the door, and let the warm water cascade over her body. She wondered if the 'Milk Tray' man would offer to soap her back.

26 - Xavier 28 - That Kind of Girl