A/N: A short little one-shot for a special lady, Cesare the somnambulist, the BIGGEST Rhonda and Curly fan I have met yet. My 'Exceptionally Unexceptional' fic has been hiked up to 'M' because of the obvious (I am a lowkey sex-crazed minion) and there is more of an off-centered focus on a semi-love triangle than she cares for. She has a vendetta against my OC, Serena, so out of fear for Serena's life I decided to write a small little snippet for a simple Rhonda and Curly romance and because she is quite the doll. Check out her Deviant Art profile. She is the bees knees.

SN: There is this small debacle being had concerning Rhonda's ethnicity. I did research of my own and NO WHERE does it say what she is. From Nickelodeon's pervious and current history, they tend to be vague and ambiguous in religious, cultural, and ethnic situations. Despite Harold being Jewish and the Rugrats being Jewish, other Nick cartoons have been vague purposely due to the wide demographic of their network and audience. I made Rhonda Peruvian because she looked like a mix between Kim Kardashian and this Peruvian woman I know. When I wrote the first chapter, she was initially supposed to be Armenian but I switched the two because she favors Peruvian women, in my opinion, more so. Point is, her ethnicity should not be this big of an issue. Regardless of last names, people of all races think that their race is more superior than others on the daily basis. Before I got married I had a traditionally 'British' last name but people in my family think that Africans are better than everyone else. That's just what people do. -_- Get it together internet.

Enjoy my twisted, dark fantasies

Chapter Theme Song: 'I've Got You Under My Skin' by: Frank Sinatra

I watched Curly do the running man for the thirtieth time this evening, stretching out his tuxedo pant suit while waving his tie around in the air to the sounds of the tacky DJ. The school could have done so much better in providing the music for this year's prom, especially since it was it was senior prom and the last time a lot of us would be together in the same room.

I glanced around the ballroom, of course examining this evenings fashion choices. I didn't care for Harold and Big Patty's color scheme but Patty bulled off a pink and blue ball gown nicely while Harold could have used a bigger shirt…and jacket. Phoebe and Gerald kept it simple, wearing all Black with red rose accents and little flashy jewelry on Phoebe's part. She had a short and sweet tulle dress with beading on the bodice while Gerald wore an all black Tuxedo. Stinky and Sid chose red and black, each of them alternating between the two colors to remain unique yet cohesive. There dates were some college girls they met online in some sex fetish chat room. Arnold and Helga both wore pink and white, me slightly envious of Helga's dress since it hugged her curves ever-so-nicely. She and I both worse form-fitting gowns contrasted against the rest of the women who chose the classic 'Cinderella' glam look. I wanted to go for a vintage Marilyn Monroe while Helga, honestly, looked like Audrey Hepburn in that pink and white lace gown. I could tell by the way Arnold was all over her the entire evening he was just itching to get it off her flawless physique.

I nibbled on my fruit salad, looking out into the dancing crowd. One of my favorite songs had begun to play but my feet were too sore for me to walk, let alone dance. I told my mother that I wanted to be high-glam and to order my custom crystal heels against her better judgment. My shoes had a two-inch platform and a six-inch heel; all bedazzled with everything from crystals with red rubies and small half carat diamonds. I was able to stand and walk in them comfortably for about an hour into prom but soon found out the hard way they were better suited to be seen rather than heard. I wanted to go dance but the night was beginning to take its toll on me. It was getting close to midnight and with me being up since five this morning preparing for this evening, I was more than ready to shed myself of this itchy dress, soak my feet in some hot water, and curl up in my queen-sized bed for a well-deserved slumber.

I decided that it was best for me to head to the limo to rest, not wanting to spoil everyone else's good time- and the fact I couldn't march to the dance floor if I had wanted to in order to drag Curly out to leave. I simply said goodnight to the ladies at my table, gave a few last smooches, and headed to the limo; careful not to snag my excessively long sequined train on the foot of the chair again. I grabbed my gift bag and complimentary take-home champagne flute, hurriedly scurrying to my chartered vehicle to sit and wait for another hour until prom came to a close.

I immediately kicked off my heels and undid my high-bun, allowing my curls to drape against the nape of my neck. Resting against the cool leather of the seat, I closed my eyes to doze off to the soothing sounds of jazz that resonated throughout the backseat. My driver, Edward, had put on a little Frank Sinatra to relax me. My father was an avid Sinatra fan and unbeknownst to me, bred me to be one as well from the long nights of him listening to records in his office after dinner. I heard the car door open slightly, Curly shuffling to get in, tripping lightly against the foot of the door, before slamming it shut. I opened my eyes to be met with his, his smile wide and bright as he kneeled before me on the car floor. I rolled my eyes.

"Why are you here?"

"I came looking for you, sweet thang." He sing-songed. "I came back to get some punch from getting my boogie-oogie on and saw you weren't there. Lila and Nadine had told me you came in here to rest."

I shrugged, still laying down. I shuffled slightly, crawling into fetal position to get more comfortable. "My feet hurt, I'm sore from this damn scratchy dress, and I'm exhausted. I saw you were having such a good time that I didn't want to interrupt you." I paused as he raised a quizzical, knowing brow. I sighed. "And my feet hurt too much to walk so I didn't feel like going to the dance floor to snatch you up."

He chuckled, moving a stray piece of hair away from my face. He caressed my cheek tenderly, causing a hue of crimson to flood my cheeks. I tried to look away but he would not let me. "Do you want to go?"

I shook my head. "There is another hour left of prom; go have fun. I just want to rest here."

"I'm not leaving you Rhonda." He spoke gently, removing his tuxedo jacket before loosening his shirt. His tie was woven around his head in warrior fashion. I giggled at the sight.

"You look absolutely ridiculous, Curly."

He laughed. "Well, you look marvelous my sweets."

"I know." I finally sat up, looking him in the eye. "I had the best dress in there and I know girls were envious of me. Why shouldn't they be? I'm Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd."

Curly just shook his head, getting up to take a seat next to me. He snaked his arm around my waist, bringing me closer to him. His cologne was starting to wear off from his dancing but I didn't mind much. At least today he smelled like a man and not some atrocious bologna sandwich from Mr. Green's. "You looked amazing tonight, beautiful. Simply superb. Why, it is only befitting that prom queen look as good as her king."

I watched him wiggle his eyebrows. I groaned, pushing him away from me. I almost forgot he and I won king and queen. "Aren't you going to go back inside?"

He shook his head, inching back towards me. He placed a small kiss on my cheek. "I'm right where I want to be, my sweets."

"You are so damn cheesy, Curly." I scoffed. He smiled, wrapping his arms around my waist again to bring me in closer for a kiss. I pulled away, slyly grinning before I yelled out for Edward to dim the lights and rise up the separator. He gave me a thumbs up before doing both as I had requested. "Seriously, go inside and dance. You are all sweaty and gross anyway."

"But you love the way Daddy smells, sexy." He whispered in my ear. I flinched in repugnance.

"Ew, never call yourself 'Daddy' ever…ever again."

"You like it." He grinned, nuzzling my neck gently. He placed a small, initially innocent kiss against it, adding another…then another…then a small bite to claim me as his. I wanted to push him away again but I found myself too lost in the newfound feeling he was giving me. He watched intently at my every move, careful not to move too hasty. I found home in his hair, gripping it gently before pushing my head back; letting out a raspy moan against the music.

Curly took this as a signal to keep going, this time wrapping both arms around my torso to bring me into his lap. I straddled both his legs, pushing my heartily exposed cleavage against his half-buttoned shirt in seduction. The furthest Curly and I have ever gone intimately was this…and maybe a little touching here and there but this is the part where either I pull away or he gets cold feet. I stilled in anticipation, watching his hands glide against the silken feel of my arms to be finally nestled at the curve of my spine. We shared a small kiss before he nipped at my neck again, this time a little forceful.

"Curly…" I breathed. "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer with words, but by slowly unzipping the back of my gown to rest against my valley of my waist. I felt that familiar heat flood my cheeks as that forbidden temptation ignited within my loins. I turned away slightly, looking at anything but him out of embarrassment.

He placed a single finger underneath my chin, gliding my gaze to be met with his. He smiled lightly, placing a single kiss on my forehead. "We can stop if you want."

I sucked in my teeth. "Do I look like a bashful virgin to you?" I got defensive. I was no stranger to sex, but I was a guest to lovemaking. I lost my girlish innocence at the tender age of fourteen to some senior football jock at the neighboring high-school a few miles west. He and I had a premature relationship that ended briskly after that dreaded evening. As a girl, I always pictured my first time being right out the movies; filled with candles, rose petals, miniature chocolates, and heart-shaped caviar. I wanted the whole nine yards and for it to be special and memorable. Instead, I was laid in the back of a van on some ugly, green shag carpet while his jerk friends watched and recorded the whole thing to be 'funny'. To my surprise, it found its way throughout the halls of my high-school and almost severely damaged my reputation. I was called and labeled everything from a slut to being offered money to give blowjobs in the men's washroom during third lunch.

Curly was one of the only few people that didn't dare judge me and stayed by my side throughout that horrendous first year of high-school. Around mid-sophomore year, everyone had seemed to forget all about my 'leaked' sex-tape but me. I still was self-conscious, a little insecure, and skeptical of everyone I encountered- even Curly; but over the course of four years, had shown me otherwise.

He grinned. "You do."

I playfully slapped his chest. "Shut up, Curly." I turned away again. "Don't you dare even think about looking at me either so help me, God, I will strangle you."

"No need to become violent, my sweets." He cooed. "That's no way to begin a new relationship now is it, hm?"

I shot him a deathly glare, still holding the top of my dress to keep it from pooling. "What relationship?"

"The one you are failing to deny we are in, my love." He quipped with humor. He kissed my lips again, this time moving my hands down from my chest to rest at his sides. I watched in silence as my dress gently cascaded down to my waist, exposing my white lace bra and diamond belly ring. I felt that familiar heat flood my face again, my heart slowly starting to crash against my chest like tsunami waves. Curly grew silent, gazing at me in awe. I could tell he was conflicted on if he should continue to touch, biting his bottom lip in agony while he twitched his hand in confusion.

I couldn't handle the awkwardness of it all anymore. "Stop staring at me, you idiot!" I barked, veiling myself once more with my hands. Curly didn't say anything, just sat there and looked at me with understanding eyes. He patiently waited for me to calm down, taking the lead again to remove my hands. He brought me in for another kiss. I deepened it, wrapping my arms around his neck to bring him closer. He surely did not object.

"I love you." He whispered into my ear, nibbling on my lobe delicately. I fought back a small moan to the feeling of having his hands roam my half-naked back, fumbling with the clasps of my bra. He finally managed to unhook the damn thing before allowing it to slowly trample to his feet. "I love you…" he repeated again.

"Thaddeus…" I began.

"You don't have to say anything."


He held my face in his hands. "I know you are still guarded and I'll wait as long as it takes for you to warm up to me fully."

"I-I-I…" I stammered, trying to find the right words to say. I knew in my heart that Curly would never hurt me the way Malcolm had but it was hard to trust a man again after being categorized in the same box as Annie Cruz and Marisol Lopez. It became almost unbearable to even walk to halls at school, let alone be usual egotistical self when the mute whispers and silent ridicule plagued my daily thoughts. "Curly, I-I-I…I…."

"I know, beautiful." He kissed my forehead. "I know."

He engulfed me in another kiss, this time using his skillful tongue. I found myself further unbuttoning his dress shirt, massaging his lean stomach through the fabric of his undershirt. Thaddeus grinned as he kissed me, scaling the bottom of my dress to land around my thighs. I found myself unable to breath as his hands traveled further south. I gasped, beginning to quiver against his touch.

I closed my eyes tight, trying to force myself to calm down. After all, this was just Curly, the disgustingly creepy gremlin that has loved me since fourth grade. He was no one of importance or value in my life, just my date to the prom. So why did I feel so…vulnerable against his touch? Why did his opinion of me matter the most out of everyone else's? Most importantly, why when I was laid up with Malcolm on his God-awful carpet I felt nothing but in this limo with Thaddeus, I feel as if my heart will melt?

I felt him stop, beginning to pull up my dress to sheath my nudity. I finally opened my eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You're not ready." He stated simply, kissing me on the cheek. "Besides, you are worth more than a hoe-down in some fancy, schmancy limo in a banquet hall parking lot."

I felt myself smile, kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you."

He blushed. "Yeah, well…can I still have a lock of your hair for safe keeping?"

"Shut up, Curly!"

I placed my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat against the cool, soothing timbre of Sinatra. I felt the car slowly go into motion and head towards the expressway. Closing my eyes, I hushed three words he longed to hear.

I love you.