REAP THE WHIRLWIND I FLYNN CARSEN

Pizza Topping Perchance

Pizza Topping Perchance

"Tell us what happened, Leonard," Clara said, leaning over the desk, "that's all we want to know."

"What else would we want to know?" Jacob said, frowning. "His favourite colour? Pizza topping perchance?"

"Ignore the cowboy," Clara said, rolling her eyes. "So what's the deal with your volcano coming to life?" she then said, returning to the subject at hand.

Leonard just stared at her, before shaking himself back into semblance. "The volcano just freaking exploded, man," he said, becoming upset, "I mean, you saw it for yourself, it was insane!"

Clara straightened up, knowing she was getting nowhere with her attempts at interrogation. Whilst the others smoothed things over with Lucinda McCabe, Clara and Jacob had been deployed to play good cop, bad cop, which had the extra advantage of keeping Clara and her dressing gown out of Lucinda's way. Without thinking, Clara perched on a desk, crossing her legs over, the fabric riding up, revealing an expanse of polished pale limbs.

"I need to sit down," Leonard breathed, his eyes boggling.

"You are sitting down," Jacob said coolly.

"You know what I think, Leonard," Clara said tiredly, "I think you rigged up that volcano as a front for something else."

"Something else?" Leonard squeaked.

Clara nodded, looking stern, forcing Leonard to focus.

"What do you mean?" Leonard said, deliberately deepening his voice.

"You tell me, sunshine," Clara retorted.

"What, you think I used it as a ruse to meet beautiful women?" Leonard said, trying and failing to smoulder.

"I think you employed unnatural means for something anyways," Clara said, sliding off the desk, "beautiful women or otherwise."

"Well, it would be unnatural for me not to appreciate natural beauty, wouldn't it?" Leonard said, switching tack, looking lofty.

"Try the insane card," Jacob suggested dryly, "that's what really floats Clara's boat."

Leonard just looked up at him as if he were mad.

"Now you're talking, son," Jacob said, "but you're the one who has to be mad, not me. And what I mean by mad, is box of cats mad, not angry dad mad, such as Homer Simpson style."

"What did you do to that volcano, Leonard?" Clara pressed, glaring at Jacob.

"Are you mad at me?" Leonard said, losing his cool, sounding like he was on the edge of tears.

Clara did a double-take, before recovering herself. "Of course we're not mad at you," she soothed, "we're here to help, not holler at you. We're just worried you're mixed up in something you shouldn't be, that you're out of your depth, that's all."

"You'll help me, then?" Leonard breathed again.

"I'll help you," Clara said, taking his chubby hands in hers.

Leonard just stared at her, awestruck.

"I'm here to help fix whatever mess you're in," Clara continued, oblivious to the effect she was having on him, "so I need you to work with me on this, alright?"

Leonard nodded, his face taking on a dazed look again, like he'd been brained by a brick.

"So take a deep breath and just tell me the truth, Leonard," Clara said firmly, holding his gaze. "That's all you have to do."

"When you say my name, it sounds like a thousand angels singing," Leonard sighed, making Clara drop his hands like hot potatoes.

"I was talking about the volcano," she said awkwardly, backing away from him.

"Oh," Leonard said, looking as if he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

Jacob just grinned, stooping down so he was eye-level with Leonard, almost looking as if he understood.

"She has eyes like the darkest chocolate," Leonard confided, his voice cracking.

"I know," Jacob said, clasping his shoulder, "I know."

Hey guy whatcha doing? I like you a lot
I been watching you, you're watching me. I think you're hot
Gold hoops, cherry pie, I'm the apple of his eye
Jean Paul Gaultier, Versace and yayo...