Chapter Six: Your Love
Quick Note: I don't think lyrics are allowed on fanfiction . net , but the version of this chapter posted here has them. If you came here from fanfiction . net because you wanted to read the version with the lyrics, then welcome to my DA page.
"He called me WHAT?" Lisa yelled at the top of her lungs, causing a picture frame to fall off of the kitchen wall. "Why that little... when I get my hands on him I'll..." Lisa growled, making strangling motions with her hands in an eerily similar way as their father would.
"Just forget it; he was saying it to hurt me, not you," said Bart as he sat at the kitchen table with Lisa directly across from him. Lisa had kept pestering him until he finally let her in on the fight he'd had with Milhouse. A persistent one she was, but he knew that she only had his best interest in mind and it did feel good to get it off his chest and to confide in someone.
"It's no big deal really. Everyone knows you're as pure as snow Lis," Bart smirked.
"Well if it's really no big deal, then why are you two still fighting?" Lisa asked. Truth be told, the whole 'bros before hos' comment was just the breaking point of all the underlying tension that had been building between them.
"Well, as annoyed as I am at Milhouse, I can't help but feel a little touched that you defended me like that... but you two have been friends forever. It's a little sad to see it all end over something so stupid," said Lisa, her eyes reflecting that sadness.
Bart averted his eyes guiltily. How could he confess to her that the real source of discord between himself and Milhouse centered around his insatiable and inexplicable interest in Sideshow Bob? Really, she didn't have to know that he'd been practically stalking the man that had tormented him throughout much of his childhood, likely putting his own life in danger in the process and when he thought about it, there really wasn't much logic to his erratic behavior.
"Hello! Earth to Bart!" said Lisa, waving her hands in front of his face impatiently. "Just what are you sitting there daydreaming about with that vacant expression?"
"Oh... nothing," he said distractedly. "You know..." Bart began, "I'm not used to having to care about how Milhouse feels. Normally I could just treat him like dirt and he'd still stick around like a loyal old dog," he leaned over the table, crossing his arms and resting his head down tiredly. Something just didn't feel right about Milhouse's behavior, like he was hiding something and it wasn't all about Bob.
"You know... this whole thing seems a bit fishy to me." said Lisa hesitantly. "To think that this fight started over little old me... it seems a little off..."
Bart picked his head up and sat up a little straighter as their mother rushed into the kitchen, put on her oven mitts and pulled from the oven a pie that she had been baking, placing it on the counter. Soon, the kitchen filled with the mouth-watering scent of pecan pie, one of Homer's favorite dishes. Marge leaned against the counter for a moment and let out a sigh of relief that the pie hadn't burned.
"Mom, you've really outdone yourself with dinner this time! Everything looks so delicious!" Lisa remarked.
"Why thank you! I want to make sure your father is well fed and in a good mood when I..." Marge hesitated.
"-have to spring the news on him?" Bart added, leaning back in his chair at the table.
"Well yes," Marge reluctantly conceded, stirring the pot of chili she had cooking on the stove then stopping to take a taste of it. "Your father's probably not very keen on letting anyone else move in, especially since that Gil Gunderson fellow." Marge shuddered at the memory. "Come to think of it, I think Gil and Cosette would make a very lovely couple!"
"No they wouldn't," said Bart. "If Cosette's anything like Gil then they'd both starve since moochers can't really mooch off of each other," Bart laughed.
"Now Bart, keep your voice down! We don't know for sure that she'll be a mooch and I want you to be very nice to her while she's here. Who knows, maybe it will be like having a second mother here for a while. A little more estrogen and a little less testosterone might be just what this family needs."
"Hmph, there's already enough estrogen in this household if you ask me." Bart rolled his eyes. Marge giggled and picked up the spoon, stirring the pot once again.
"Oh god... I'm exhausted..." came Cosette's tired voice as she dragged herself into the kitchen weighed down by bags from the grocery store. It only appeared to be two small bags, but the way she was carrying on, it looked like she were trying to drag in two solid, half-ton statues.
"I don't think I can make it Cassie!" she grunted, dropping the bags to the floor at her feet and bending double as she struggled to catch her breath. Soon after, her daughter Cassie came in with a couple of bags and sat them down on the floor next to where her mother had deposited her bags.
"I don't think I can go back out there and get the rest of the bags... do you think you kids could go and help Cassie?" Cosette suggested, her eyes flitting to Bart and Lisa expectantly.
"Sure, I'll help!" Lisa darted out of the kitchen, eager to help their new live-ins, yet Bart remained seated. He wasn't fond of having another 'mother figure' as Marge had put it, and he really didn't see why he should have to help. He wasn't about to become one of Cosette's little servants like she'd taught her own kids to be!
"Bart don't be rude! Go help bring in the groceries would you?" Marge added with a frustrated growl.
"Why should I have to-" Bart began, only to be cut off by his mother.
"Bart!" Marge yelled.
"Ugh... FINE!" Bart stood up from the table and reluctantly left to help Lisa and Cassie bring in another twenty or so bags of groceries. It wasn't like it was a big deal or anything, but the fact that Cosette had been living there not even a whole day and had already started ordering them around just struck him the wrong way. If this was any indication of how things were to be, then he had the feeling that they were in for one hell of a ride.
- o - o - o -
Cosette and Cassie had eaten dinner with the family that night and quickly left afterwords, saying that they were headed out to the nearest bowling alley, giving Marge a chance to break the news to Homer. As expected, Homer had not taken the news well as indicated by the raised voices that could be heard from their bedroom that night.
Bart sat on the right side of the couch with Lisa to the left as they watched television, yet even that couldn't drown out the yelling coming from upstairs. Maggie was laying on her stomach in the floor with one of her coloring books, seemingly unaffected by the argument that resonated all over the house. At first it had only been their father that they heard, but soon, they heard their mother joining in on the fray as well.
"Well Homer, if you want them to leave, then you make sure to tell them that to their face when they get back tonight!" Marge yelled with a conviction Bart had rarely heard in her voice.
"FINE! I'll do just that!" Homer countered.
"Oh no you WON'T Mister!" Marge shrieked, stomping her foot down sharply.
Bart winced at the shrillness in his mother's voice, knowing that he'd hate to be on the receiving end of that yell. Not too long after that, they heard a door slam and quick footsteps coming down the stairs followed by another door slamming.
"You could have at least talked with me about it first!" Homer yelled at the top of his lungs, but by then, Marge was likely out of earshot as it sounded like she'd slammed the front door and left.
"Mom?" Lisa called out, receiving no answer. Bart sighed. He hated when his parents fought even more now that he was older and understood just how lucky he was to have two parents that weren't divorced like most of his friend's parents were. His mother would probably cry a little and Homer would probably sulk a little until they both got tired of that and finally kissed and made up just as they always had. That was his hope anyway.
Lisa took the remote and flipped through the channels, finding nothing of interest to watch. It wasn't until the sight of Bob's face flashing across the screen for a split second that Bart stopped and took notice. He suddenly reached over and snatched the remote away from his sister and flipped back through the stations, searching for the familiar face that had caught his attention.
"Hey!" Lisa protested. Bart paid her no mind and only watched, completely engrossed in finding out what Bob was doing on television; on the news for some recent crime no doubt! He just knew it! He knew that Bob really hadn't changed and the thought sent a chill of reawakened terror and adrenalin through his bones. Finally, Bob's face came into view again just as the television show host had finished introducing him. Bart paused, completely mesmerized as Bob began to sing. His ears were met with that strong and powerful, yet gracefully lilting voice singing an operatic that he'd never heard before, but one that ensnared the senses fully.
I feel a wave of passion
Move through my heart with such pain
I have no time to reason
So I just let passion reign
My sin and my obsession
Crazy desire you bring
I know there's no salvation
I see our bodies burning
Long, slender fingers gently gripped the microphone stand as the man poured his very soul into the sensual lyrics. Eyes closed in concentration, lost in song.
Your love will kill me
Your love will kill me
Your love will... kill me
Bold and powerful was his baritone, yet lilting like that of a weeping violin, building and waning, swelling, then dwindling away in the waves of passion flowing directly from his heart. His voice choked up with emotion on the last 'your love will kill me'.
It was a melody that unknowingly spoke to his very soul and yet... he wondered if everyone watching felt the same. As if this magnificent singer, expressing his very heart with that angelic voice, were singing to him and him alone. Bringing to life forbidden, hidden desires that dare not seek the light of day. Becoming lost in the sea of those shadowy eyes, likely worlds away.
I never knew such desire
Just looking into your eyes
And now the soul in me cries
And now the night is on fire
Your love will kill me
Your love will kill me
And you will bear my curse
As long as my life will be
Bob let go of the mic, his hands flung out to his sides in a dramatic display, his eyes closed tightly shut as his voice rose powerfully in volume and vigor. Thick locks of deep, burgundy wine hair swayed gently as he sang. Bart was unable to blink, his eyes unabashedly and unyieldingly fixated on the man. His breath caught in his throat as the melody reached it's fevered climax like waves crashing onto a thirsty shore.
Your love will kill me
Tu vas me détruire
Your love will... KILL me...
Bob's hair swished forward as he fell to his knees, panting heavily and overcome with the same passion that burned within. The words seemed rather poignant and oddly appropriate... striking a cord in his heart as if some part of it rang true that Bob really was singing to him. Perhaps it was just a mere flight of fancy, but at the moment it was as if his soul had clung willingly and foolhardily to the notion.
Bart tried inconspicuously to still his rapid pulse, his breathy afterglow lest he not be discovered. He looked over to Lisa who seemed to be in a similar state that he was in, her hand brought to her chest. The man could practically make love to anyone with his voice and it was brilliant! Oh why had he never appreciated it so much as he did now?
"Wow! He really has a beautiful voice doesn't he?" Lisa asked, her eyes still fixated onto the screen as Bob stood to his feet and took another bow, the curtains dropping around him amidst the high-pitched squeals from an overly exuberant audience.
"Yeah, I guess..." said Bart, playing off his fascination as if he weren't impressed in the slightest, "but he's still Sideshow Bob. Don't let his angelic voice fool you."
"Come on, admit it Bart. Your eyes were practically glued to the screen just as mine were. I know that look when I see it," she said knowingly, almost smugly.
"What?" asked Bart nervously, a wave of panic shooting through him. Was he really that easily read by her? Damn... Why did she have to be so perceptive?
"You," Lisa stated. "I always knew that deep down, you had a love of the fine arts, but your bad boy image won't allow you to appreciate it," said Lisa to which Bart let out the breath he'd been holding. Okay, so maybe she wasn't as perceptive about some things. Of course, him being completely mesmerized not only by that smooth voice, but also by those nimble fingers, those soulful eyes and that lanky silhouette that was to die for... it was just so completely unlikely that there was no way she would be able to deduce that in a million years! He couldn't even believe it himself or really come to grips with what it all meant.
- o - o - o -
It was early Tuesday morning when Bart had awakened the next day. He hadn't slept very well that night and he knew he'd had a night full of eventful dreams but he could recall not one of them which was frustrating enough. What made the morning even worse was that when he staggered into the kitchen, his mind still foggy from sleep, he reached into the upper cabinet and pulled out a box of cereal, only to find that it was empty. Just yesterday, the box had been full. He shook his head, amused. He'd heard of his cousin's unhealthy obsession over sugary cereal, but this was ridiculous.
He looked around, seeing that everyone was already seated around the table anyway and it looked as if his mother had already made a nice breakfast of bacon and eggs. In the middle of the table sat a fresh pitcher of orange juice and it all smelled absolutely delicious. It was only then, that he realized that his father wasn't at the table.
"Where's dad?" Bart asked, looking around the room, his eyes stopping on his mother as she cleared her throat.
"Your father's still upset about last night..." his mother looked away apprehensively.
"But where is he?" asked Bart casually.
"Mmm... He slept on the couch last night and he has the day off today so I thought I'd just... leave him there to sleep in," she explained. It made sense enough, so Bart shrugged it off and sat down at his usual seat at the table. He grabbed a piece of bacon from Lisa's plate, prompting an exasperated sound of disgust from his younger sibling.
"What? You want it back?" Bart asked, taking the piece of bacon and licking it all the way up one side.
"Seriously? God... how disgusting," Lisa sighed. Maggie laughed heartily at Bart's antics which made him feel much affection towards his youngest sister, that she was actually taking his side for once.
"Bart, stop licking your sister's food!" Marge scolded, slapping a fresh piece of bacon onto Lisa's plate to make up for it. "Aren't you a little too old for that sort of thing?"
"Never!" Bart replied, cackling evilly. Lisa rolled her eyes.
The family continued eating breakfast and chatting amongst themselves until Cassie came in, her little chihuahua Anakin in tow, cocking his leg up and urinating on the fridge in passing. Marge growled with disapproval.
"Good morning," Cassie said casually, opening the fridge and inspecting it's contents thoroughly for the longest time. She reached in and pulled out a tub of chicken salad, knocking several things into the floor in the process and shutting the fridge, not bothering to pick it up. Marge quickly went behind her, scowling as she cleaned up the mess on the floor with paper-towels, then sprayed the fridge where the dog peed with disinfectant.
After Cosette and Cassie's epic trip to the grocery store, they'd filled the kitchen to the brim with things they'd bought with food stamps until there really was no more space to store anything else in the kitchen. Every spot in the fridge, every cabinet was filled to the max with food and kitchen supplies that no one in the family even liked. They said that they were stocking up the family kitchen as payment for letting them stay.
"Cassie, I have breakfast already made if you'd like some," Marge offered.
"Thanks, but I think I'll have something else instead," said Cassie, setting an armful of food down onto the counter and grabbing a bowl and a box of cereal from the overhead cabinet. Bart was tempted to make an insensiteve joke about all of the food Cassie had in front of her, but he kept his mouth shut.
"Oh... well okay. Tell your mother when you see her that breakfast is ready."
Sure, but I don't think you'll be seeing her anytime soon," said Cassie, taking a bite out of a chocolate chip cookie, "She stayed up all night long playing World of Warcraft with her online boyfriend from New Orleans."
"Oh... well that sounds... fun," said Marge, unsure what to make of it. "I'm glad she has someone special in her life then."
"Hey Aunt Margie... Mom wanted me to ask you if it was okay if the rest of the kids come over for movie night tonight?" asked Cassie shyly.
"Well..." Marge hesitated for a moment. "Of course they can come over! I haven't seen the little ones in years!"
"Great!" came a voice from the doorway, Cosette's. She staggered into the kitchen, yawning and scratching her stomach through her navy blue robe. Her hair was sticking out in all directions as if she'd just stumbled out of bed after a hard night with little sleep.
"So Lisa, Bart..." Cosette began in her sleep-slurred, perhaps even intoxicated speech.. "I have a movie that I just know you will both like!"
"What's it called?" Bart asked, perking up at the idea.
"Psycho, the new one. I've also got The Exorcist if we have time later!" she replied enthusiastically as she moved to Homer's usual seat at the table, flipping the chair backwards and straddling it.
"Alright man! Can't wait!" Bart kicked his feet up onto the table and precariously tilted his chair back onto two legs. He had seen both movies several times, but only when they'd aired on TV and even then they had been severely cut for time and content so he was actually really excited to see the full versions. Perhaps living with Cosette for a while would actually be more fun than he'd anticipated. Only time would tell.
"Lisa you up for it?" Cosette asked.
"Yeah! Count me in!" Lisa smiled. Lisa was a casual fan of horror movies, but not as much as Bart was. He practically devoured every cult classic since the dawn of time and was decidedly more of a fan of the older classics and the occasional foreign film with subtitles. Sure, the newer slasher movies were full of gore and special effects, but they lacked substance.
"Good!" Cosette said excitedly. "We can make a night of it! I've got all my kids coming over tonight and we can all sit around the TV with the lights off and have a good, old-fashioned scare!"
"Great! I'll invite Rod and Todd over too," Bart smirked, knowing that the Flanders kids would be scarred for life if they saw a movie like that.
"Bart..." Lisa warned.
Bart grinned impishly. He could hear his bus approaching in the distance; the distinct sound of the diesel engine squalling was unmistakable. He grabbed his bag and quickly rushed out the door, ready for another day of school and thoroughly looking forward to movie night tonight. Anything to take his mind off of his parents fight, Milhouse, and especially the object of his distraction: Bob.
A.N. - "Your Love Will Kill Me" is from the Notre Dame de Paris Musical. I made a music video on Youtube of Bob singing this song, but it's not very flashy like my other vids since it was made on Windows Movie Maker, before I got Sony Vegas, but I think it turned out okay so check it out if you like. My youtube channel is listed on my profile.