Pick'N'Mix Mods for The Sims 2

11 - Shopping

Friday evening and they had stopped in a school carpark. As Sophia-Grace pointed out, no one would consider a school-bus at a school unusual. Deano had managed to get the side door to the sports hall open and they had all benefited from the changing room facilities. Sophia-Grace had also raided the lost property box and Lottie and Ona would have several alternative tops and skirts once they'd been thoroughly washed.

The platforms had been lowered and Sophia-Grace was telling Lottie and Ona a bed-time story about a skiing trip she'd gone on with her school many years ago. Deano was sitting half-way down the bus deep in thought.

The voices at the back of the bus became a background drone, as, staring out the window into the darkness, Deano's mind began to wander to the places and countries he had never heard of to do the things he would never achieve. Trudging through the snow (he knew about snow), in the ginormous boots designed especially for slipping in ('skis'), he conjured up vistas of mountains (he also knew about mountains) covered in chair-lifts (he imagined these as ten-seater sofas on a big pole that went up and down like the vertical ride he'd once seen over the wall of a fun-fair), hoping that the "ski-tow" he was about to get wouldn't be too painful (or smell as bad as when Ona had athlete's foot one summer). He sat in the middle of the king-size tent ("chalet") eating a tasty pot of fruity "après-ski".

He didn't know if he was shrinking or the tent was growing, but he felt like a tiny speck of dust in an ever-expanding world. Unbeknownst to himself, he was crying.

A cough sounded behind and the horizon crashed back to the four solid walls of the bus. With a sniff, he swivelled on the seat.

"We'll need proper food and other stuff if we're really going to do this", Sophia-Grace said quietly.

Deano blinked at her, his mind a thousand miles away worrying about "ski-toe".

"Those were the last of the sandwiches, and we can't live on crisps and biscuits", she added.

Deano, who saw no problems from living off crisps and biscuits, said nothing, his mind was trying to work out how you'd power a 10-seater sofa on a pole.

Sophia-Grace, who hated being ignored, placed her hands on her hips, pouted, huffed and said, "So what are you going to do about it?"

Deano didn't know the meaning of the phrase 'oddly erotic', but his body responded and snapped his mind back to join it. "Uh", he grunted, adding "Ok" and, pushing past EssGee, headed for the door.

"Boys!", she chided after him.

Hairs on the nape of his neck rose unbidden.

Two hours later, Deano returned carrying four large bags, bearing the brand of a convenience store they'd passed earlier. Sophia-Grace was sat, cross-legged, in the driver's seat, which she'd turned to face the door. As Deano ascended the stairs he caught a flash of her knickers (lavender today), fortunately for him she was too intrigued by the bags to notice his obvious reaction.

"Where've you been?", she demanded, sliding off the seat.

She wasn't going to admit it to herself, let alone him, but she'd been worried; she'd just make him suffer in some myriad little ways in the coming days.

"Shopping", he replied nonchalantly.

Which she also failed to register, busily peering into each bag.

"Bread, spread, ham, cheese ... milk, coffee, tea, soups ... rice, pasta", she looked up.

She was impressed, but wasn't going to admit that either, "no veggies?"

"That bag", he said, pointing to one she'd missed with his foot.

"Oooooooo!", cooed Sophia-Grace, gazing into the last bag, "and fresh fruit as well."

Her self-preservation mean-streak caught up with her, "And what do you expect me to cook this on?"

Deano turned slightly and swung a rucksack off his shoulder she'd failed to spot. Silently he opened it and produced pans, plates, cutlery, a small kettle, a camping-stove, several fuel cells, a torch, batteries, and a gas-lamp.

"But you didn't have any money", was all she could say.

"Didn't matter, they weren't open", he replied, plucking a half-drunk beer bottle from the side pocket, and retreating to the cool of the night.

"That's right", she called snappily after him, "leave me to put it all away!"

Deano heard footsteps behind him, then a poke in the shoulder. He scooted sideways to make space on the bench and Sophia-Grace sat beside him. She pulled the bottle from his hand, her warm smooth fingers brushing against his, and took a swig. She offered it back to him and stared into the darkness. The wind caught her hair and softly whipped it across his face, her scent catching in his nose, the warmth of her arm against his.

"Thank-you", she said to the night sky, stood and walked back to the bus.

10 - Green Ham 12 - Arguments!