Only You
A/N: Welcome back! I hope you enjoy this story as much as ACH. I hunkered down on a cold, rainy Sunday and wrote this.
And I edited this on my free day (thank God for parent-teacher conferences!).
Without further ado, I present…ONLY YOU!
Chapter 1—Mean Streets*
Beams of sunlight streamed through the shutters, casting a warm halo across the room. Legs were tangled in the sheets, and the couple was glowing with happiness, despite the uneasy and damaging news they received mere days ago.
"You awake?" Fabian mumbled.
His fiancée's eyes fluttered open, and she smiled. "How can I sleep after last night?" She joked, stretching her arms.
He laughed. "I didn't get any sleep; though last night was amazing, I think my lack of sleep was due to the traffic of New York."
"Yeah, it can get pretty loud. You have to get used to it," She replied, wrapping a sheet around her.
The moment was ruined when both of their iPhones binged. They groaned and grabbed their devices.
"Uh, my flight leaves in two hours. You?" He asked.
"Meeting with Will's headmistress," she read, disappointed. "It's regarding his courses." (1)
"Are you okay with me leaving? I can cancel—"
"No, I completely understand—you have to work out the kinks with the company and reconnect with your family," she said.
"But I'll be gone for a month—what about Rob? I need to be there for you."
"I'll be fine," Nina assured him. "And there's nothing Skype can't fix," she smiled, leaning forward to kiss him before—
BING.
DING.
They groaned and glanced back at their iPhones.
"That was mine. Flight was rescheduled—I don't have to be there for five hours," he responded, smiling.
"That wasn't my phone," Nina answered, grabbing her robe as she got up. "It sounded like the intercom; we're getting buzzed."
"Does that happen often?" He asked, following her suit.
"No—everyone that is allowed up here has a key. And Gwen usually just barges in," Nina replied. Then, she cleared her throat. "Ryan?"
"I'm sorry to interrupt you so early, Ms. Martin, but there's someone downstairs for you. She says it's urgent…and she's threatening to have me shipped back to Russia." The doorman's terrified voice came over the intercom.
Nina sighed. "I'll be down there in a few, Ryan." Then, she clicked off and turned to her fiancé. "I wonder who's threatening Ryan."
"Whoever it is doesn't sound pleasant," he marveled and began to search for their discarded clothing. He handed her his plaid shirt and her jeans from last night, and she slipped them on.
"I'm sorry," she blurted. "My life is so complicated, and you don't deserve this—"
"Hey," he interrupted her, wrapping her into his arms. "We're going to get through this—us against the world…"
"Full of socialites, beauty queens, and rich billionaires? Are you up for the challenge?"
He held up her hand. "That's what this ring represents—I'm up for anything the world throws at us."
She smiled at him before leaning up for a kiss.
"MS. MARTIN! SHE'S CHOKING ME!" Ryan screamed before the intercom cut off.
They exchanged a panicked glance.
"I think we should get down there," she replied, tossing his shirt at him.
"And call the NYPD," he stated, only half-joking.
They headed down to the lobby. The doors opened, and Ryan's strangled screams greeted them.
"Please, ma'am! Don't hurt me!"
A familiar, calm voice taunted. "Then, let me upstairs."
"I can't! It's—ow!"
Nina and Fabian turned the corner to see a redhead hitting Ryan over the head with her purse.
"Hey! What are you doing?" Nina shouted.
The redhead turned, revealing her face.
Nina paused and felt the air leave her body.
"Oh, dear," she whispered, releasing Ryan. Ryan slumped against his desk, gasping for air. "Oh, Nina, dear! I haven't seen you in years!" She gushed, grabbing her face.
Nina slapped her hands away. "Don't touch me," she blurted. "What are you doing here?"
Emily put her hands on her slim hips. "Is this how you treat family?"
"You are not my family," she hissed.
"Family?" Her fiancé asked, confused.
Emily turned her attention to the young gentleman. She frowned. "Didn't she tell you? I'm her aunt."
Fabian turned to Nina, but she avoided his eyes.
Ryan gasped loudly. "I think she crushed my windpipe…"
Meanwhile, across Central Park, another family was waking up. Though, this family wasn't waking up to blissful silence. Instead, four (and a half) shuffled through the medium-sized UWS apartment, often bumping into each other.
Juliana was dressed in her leotard, and her purple gym bag was perched on her shoulder. She was impatiently tapping her foot to unknown beat. It was her first day at the new gym, and she was eager to get back into the groove of training.
"DAD! HURRY UP!" She screamed at her father, whom was shoving his laptop into his bag.
"I'm coming, Juliana! You know, practice doesn't start for another hour," he told her.
Juliana pouted. "But I want to show Coach Hugh my routines."
"And you will," her stepmother promised, coming up from behind Juliana. She handed Juliana her grips. (2) "You forgot these."
Juliana smiled gratefully. "Thanks." She embraced her stepmom. "See you later!" And the blonde bounced out of the apartment, her ponytail swinging.
Eddie smiled at his wife. "You're so good with kids," he observed.
She blushed. "I have to, Krueger. You did knock me up," Patricia gestured to her baby bump.
Eddie laughed. "And I had fun while doing so. See you later," he said, kissing her hard.
She kissed back, wrapping her arms around his neck. They pulled back, not wanting to let each other go.
She waved and closed the door. She leaned against it, thinking about how different their goodbye was, compared to three months ago. Three months ago, they barely kissed each other, let alone banter playfully.
"Trixie?" Francis called from the living room. He was watching a documentary on space—smart kid.
"Yeah?" She replied, crashing back to reality.
Francis paused the program and bit his lip. "Since we don't have to pick Juliana up for a few more hours, can you show me around the city? I've been reading about it, but it's not the same—"
"Say no more, Francis—we're going on an adventure!"
Mara stared at the ten photos she had arranged on Jerome's—no, theirs—smooth, wooden floor.
The Brooklyn apartment had sixteen, oversized windows that captured an impossible view of the Statue of Liberty, Brooklyn Bridge, Manhattan Bridge, the Empire State Building, and the beautiful sunrise. (3)
Jerome returned to her side, handing her a steaming cup of tea. "Still looking at the crime scene photos?" He asked.
She nodded. "It doesn't make sense. Why would the victim have a broken hyoid bone? Adolescents have a flexible, almost unbreakable hyoid bone. This doesn't make sense."
"Forgive me for not having a M.D., but what the hell is a hyoid bone?"
Mara smirked. "Finally—something I know that you don't know."
"Which will never happen again," Jerome interjected, pecking her on the lips…which eventually evolved into a heated kiss.
Mara kissed back before pulling away. "Distracting me from the case, I see," she pushed him away.
"I'd hate to say this, but you're obsessed with this—more than I am," he admitted.
"Is that a bad thing?"
"…actually, it's the opposite. It's quite the turn-on."
Mara raised an eyebrow. "Did you use that line on Moira?"
Jerome groaned. "Will you ever let that go?"
Moira was a detective at the precinct, and she was Jerome's former lover. (4) She hated Mara—despite not knowing her at all. Ross Torres, a fellow detective, often joked and compared Mara and Moira. (Note the spelling.)
"Why does she hate me so much?" Mara asked.
"In my eyes, she was nothing more than a fling. But she wanted something serious, which was something I couldn't give her. But now, I have a surgeon turned consultant detective as a girlfriend. You're beautiful, sweet, and smart—the exact opposite of Moira. She's jealous, but in her defense, anyone would be crushed."
Mara nodded. "I guess so. Do you really think I'm beautiful?"
Jerome smiled and brushed a dark strand of hair from her face. He cleared his throat. "Do I have to prove it to you? 'But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Mara is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon.'"
"Quoting Shakespeare? Another pick-up line? A simple yes or no would've sufficed," she joked
"Yeah, but that was way more romantic," he assured her.
"Well, you've got that right," Mara answered, connecting their lips. Then, she leaned against him, and the two watched the sunrise.
Fabian looked between the two Martins, noting their similarities—their green eyes, bow-shaped lips, and tall figure.
But they differed in their mannerisms. Emily was stuck-up and snobby—everyone Nina hated about the UES.
"I had to come and help plan my only niece's…second wedding," Emily gushed.
"Well, we don't need your help," Nina coolly responded, crossing her arms.
Emily looked at her with a pitiful expression. "Honey, you need my help. For God's sake, your last wedding had tulips in your bridal bouquet!"
"Tulips are my favorite," she bristled.
"Roses are prettier," Emily insisted. (5) Then, she turned to Fabian. "Do you know what flowers are appropriate for a bridal bouquet?"
Fabian stammered, his confidence faltering in her presence.
"Why are you here?" Nina repeated, reaching over and intertwining their hands. She smiled briefly at him.
Fabian sighed. God, I really love her, he thought to himself.
"I already told you—"
The elevator dinged, and a sleepy Will emerged, rubbing his eyes. "Mom? Fabian? What are you guys doing down here?"
Emily smiled. "William!" She exclaimed, rushing forward. She threw her arms around him.
Will's eyes widened. "Great aunt Emily?"
"Oh, you remember! How's my favorite eight year old—"
"Six, almost seven," he corrected, and Nina cracked a smile. "And I am doing okay," he finished.
"Well, I've got something for you," Emily smiled and pulled a wrapped box from her purse.
Ryan's hands absentmindedly felt the bruise on his head and scowled. So, that was what was hitting me in the head, he marveled.
Will opened the box and found a little card in the box. "What's this?"
"A year-long subscription to National Geographic Kids," Emily answered, with a smile. "I heard it was your favorite."
Will's eyes lit up. "Thank you!" He thanked, hugging her.
"You're welcome," Emily said.
Nina uncrossed her arms. She gently grabbed Emily's arm and whispered into her ear, "Rob is trying to get custody of Will."
Emily gasped. "No—he can't do that! Does Will know?"
Nina looked down. "No," she admitted. "I just got the letter two days ago. I don't know how to break it to him."
"The same way you told him that Rob was a bad guy—slowly and gently," Emily told her. "Look, I'll be there for you guys. When's the first meeting with the lawyers?"
"Wednesday, but Fabian was recently called away on business," Nina responded, biting her lip.
"I'll stand in," Emily immediately interjected. She turned to Fabian, almost remorseful. "I'll take good care of her."
He nodded, not able to speak.
Emily grinned. "Great! Now, I'm starved! Who's hungry? My treat—go on, get dressed!"
But when Emily whirled around, Fabian could've sworn he saw a twinkle of mischief in her eye.
And that was when his trust in Emily dwindled.
Joy turned over and grinned, her eyes fluttering open.
There was a blonde, sex god in her bed. Well, he was snoring and drooling, but he was still sexy as hell.
And he was Joy's—not Jenna's, Camille's, or Olivia's. He was fully committed to her.
She giggled happily, waking the blonde up.
Mick chuckled. "What's so funny?"
"You have a morning voice," she noted.
"I thought you noticed that the first time I stayed over," Mick replied. "What time is it?"
"Hmm, I don't know—I'm not used to London time. This country may be my homeland, but living in America can be a pain in the—shit!" The petite brunette cursed, standing up.
Mick was suddenly alert. "What? What's wrong?"
Joy didn't answer as she rushed around her bedroom in her silk PJ's. "I'm late for my first day," she cried.
Mick looked over at the clock. "Oh, yeah—I forgot that was today," he drawled lazily.
"How could you forget? Today is the first day of my fashion career—big changes are ahead!" Joy screamed from the bathroom. "I could've sworn I set an alarm..."
Mick froze. (6) "Um," he stammered. "You know how…technology is! Are you sure you don't want to stay home…eat chocolate…stay in bed?" He suggested.
"Stop trying to seduce me! Plus, I'm saving that day for when I'm a famous fashion designer, living in Paris with my cute, little pug! Oh, and my dashing boyfriend," Joy said, emerging from the bathroom, fully dressed.
Her glossy hair was thrown up into a bun. Her face was fresh of makeup. She wore a pair of black leggings, a blue oxford shirt, white flats, and a cropped white jacket. A striped, blue and white scarf was looped around her neck.
Mick's breath got caught in his throat. She had less than five minutes to get prepared, and she looked like a French model.
"How do I look?" She echoed, twirling for him.
"Stunning," he replied, kissing her hand.
She blushed. "Thank you." Then, she remembered that she was late. She grabbed her portfolio and bag. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'll see you tonight—your place?"
"I have conditioning until 6, but yeah, dinner at my place would be great," he replied, tugging on his discarded shirt and jeans.
Joy smiled. "Love you!" And she ran out of the door.
Mick stood there, wanting to run after her. And finally, he did. "Joy!" He shouted, grabbing his shoes from the doorway. He ran down the stairs, narrowly tripping over his own feet.
She heard him and stopped in her tracks. "What is it?" She asked.
Mick took a deep breath. "Why walk there when you can be escorted by moi?" He gestured to his car—a silver masterpiece.
"Don't you have practice in a half-an-hour?" Joy questioned.
Mick grinned. "With this car, I can make it there in ten. Come on."
Juliana took a deep breath before launching into her mount: a stoop through with rear support. She steadied herself before throwing herself into her first flight series: a back handspring with step out, a back handspring, and a layout. She posed before transitioning into a switch ring leap and a sheep jump. She moved to the end of the beam and held her leg up for three whole seconds. Then, Juliana connected two aerial walkovers and an aerial cartwheel, with a minor balance check. She leaped and connected it to a back pike. She completed a full turn with one leg held horizontal and another full turn. She used two connected jumps to get to the middle of the beam. She took a deep breath before launching herself into her dismount: a back handspring with step out, back handspring, and double twist. (7)
She landed perfectly, with her legs practically glued straight.
"Good job, Juliana. Watch your legs on your second flight series. Maybe we can upgrade your double twist int twist," Coach Hugh said, writing a side comment down on his clipboard.
"You think so?" Juliana asked.
Hugh nodded. "Your future is very bright, Juliana."
Juliana smiled before noticing someone behind Hugh. "There's my stepmom and brother!" She exclaimed, waving at the observation room.
Hugh glanced at his watch. "I have time before my meeting—let's go and meet your stepmom and brother."
Juliana grabbed her bag from the sidelines. "He's my twin, too! Fraternal, of course. I got the good looks and athletic skills—he got the smarts."
Hugh laughed. "I think you're smart, too, Juliana."
"No, I'm not. My brother skipped a grade," Juliana said as they neared the door. "He's going into sixth grade, while I'm stuck in fifth grade. He's taking Honors courses, which is like seventh grade classes for a sixth grader. So, he's like two years ahead of me."
"Juliana—"
"Juliana!" Francis exclaimed, running towards his sister. "You were amazing! I was afraid that you were going to fall and hit your head and forget who we were or go into an alternate reality—"
"Francis," Juliana interrupted, giggling. "I'm okay. Coach Hugh, meet my twin."
"Hello, Francis," he smiled warmly. "I'm Coach Hugh."
Francis looked at Hugh's outstretched hand and timidly shook it. "Hello," he mumbled.
"Your sister was just telling me all about you. You're very smart," Hugh complimented.
"Thank you," Francis muttered.
Then, Hugh's attention was drawn to Patricia. "Hello," he greeted, running a hand through his longish locks. "You must be Juliana's and Francis's stepmom."
Patricia nodded and held out her hand. "I'm Patricia Williamson-Sweet."
Hugh ignored her offered hand and kissed her hand gently. "I'm Hugh."
Juliana and Francis exchanged a worried expression.
"No last name?" Patricia asked, pulling away her hand.
"Just Hugh," he grinned.
Patricia rested her hands on Juliana's and Francis's shoulders. "Well, we must be going. I'm sure Juliana is tired—"
"So, so tired," Juliana interjected.
"And Francis and I have walked the entire length of New York City—"
"We swam to Ellis Island," Francis deadpanned.
"Well, okay. See you tomorrow at 3, Juliana. And see you later, Ms. Williamson."
"It's Mrs. Sweet!" Patricia shouted over her shoulder as the Sweet family hastily exited the gym.
"Creep," Francis whispered. "Great—now I can't eat lunch."
Hugh was so busy staring that he didn't notice the angry brunette glaring at Patricia from across the gym.
Amber closed Living by the Shore and sighed. If only she could have the love Brian and Peyton had…
"I did," she whispered, and a tear slipped down her face. She remembered every detail of Noel—his handsome face, talent, horrible clothing, dreams of publishing his art, his scruffy beard, and impressions.
A knock sounded at the door, jarring her from her thoughts.
She cleared her throat. "Come in."
The timid, servant girl entered, her hands held behind her back. "Your father is on the phone."
Amber sighed. "Tell him I'm in a meeting."
The servant nodded, but continued. "Your Serene Highness; if you don't mind me asking, but why do you reject your father's calls?"
"You'll understand, Juliet, when you make sacrifices," Amber replied. "Juliet? Please bring me some gelato and pizza. And A Walk to Remember and Living by the Shore, please. I have a sudden craving for sweets and sappy chick flicks."
Melissa Campbell's office was a mess; sketches, clothes, pencils, erasers, and sticky notes were everywhere.
And Joy loved it.
She walked up to a pretty redhead. "Excuse me?"
The redhead looked up, rolled her eyes, and returned back to her magazine.
Joy bristled. "I'm the new intern," she spoke loudly.
The redhead sighed.
"Joy Mercer—ring a bell?" She questioned. "Hello?"
The redhead didn't glance up.
Joy gritted her teeth. "Look, you plastic bit—"
"Joy!" A slim blonde with short locks exclaimed. She threw her arms around Joy.
Joy gasped, recognizing her from Vogue. "Oh, my god—you're Melissa Campbell!"
Melissa laughed. "And you're the girl that has finally tamed my monster of a brother," she bantered, playfully punching Joy's shoulder. (8)
The redhead coughed. "This is the girl Mickey loves?" She asked, eyeing Joy with disgust.
Joy glared at the redhead. "Yes, I'm the girl Mick loves."
"Eva," Melissa scolded. "Don't be so rude to my future sister-in-law!"
"Sister-in-law?" Eva and Joy exclaimed, glaring at each other.
Melissa waved her hand. "Can't you see it? Mick's madly in love—it's only a matter of time before he pops the question."
"And your cherry—for God's sake, you practically scream virgin. Your clothes look like a soccer mom and preschooler picked them out," Eva criticized.
Joy's smile slipped from her face.
"Eva!" Melissa reprimanded. She turned to Joy with an apologetic expression. "I'm so sorry—"
"No, everyone needs a critic in their life," Joy murmured.
Melissa cracked a smile. "Come," she said, gesturing to her office.
Joy followed, but not before knocking Eva's coffee onto her latest edition of Vogue.
"Payback's a bitch," Joy grinned triumphantly before skipping off to Melissa's office.
Eva gaped at the brunette. "That bitch," she whispered.
Melissa closed the door after Joy. "Please, take a seat."
Joy complied, and Melissa sat down across from her, twirling slightly. She pressed a button on her phone and whispered a command into it.
Seconds later, two women entered, carrying coffees and pastries.
"I assume you haven't had breakfast," Melissa explained.
Joy only nodded.
"Again, I'm sorry about Eva. She has a massive crush on Mick. What I'm trying to say is that they have history together," Melissa stated.
"Oh," Joy deflated a bit. Of course Mick had history with his sister's pretty receptionist.
"But it wasn't serious," Melissa rushed to comfort Joy. "I mean, it was just a few late nights, dinners...sexting…"
"Sexting?" Joy exclaimed.
"Oh, dear." Melissa actually looked sympathetic. "What Eva said was true. You are a virgin."
"Sexting?" Joy echoed and rubbed her temples. She knew Mick was…experienced, but she didn't know he was that experienced. What was she supposed to expect from a former (hopefully) playboy? "Oh, god, I need a drink…"
"You know what? Let's get off of that subject!" Melissa clapped her hands together. "Now…you're not an intern anymore."
Joy stopped eating, frozen in fear. "What?" She whispered. "I was f-fired?"
Melissa laughed. "No, silly! I've witnessed your talent, unlike the pitiful interns we have here. Since I fired my last assistant for mistaking pink for fuchsia, I'm appointing you my assistant."
Joy coughed. "Are you seriously? An assistant?"
Melissa nodded. "You will run errands for me, boss around the interns, come up with alternate designs, present your own ideas, accompany me on visits, and etc."
Joy covered her mouth, tears streaming out of her eyes. "Oh, this is like a—"
"Okay, I need you to deliver these tablets to Maggie Cullen, my associate. Get the address from Eva. Also, I need your portfolio. And for tomorrow, prepare a PowerPoint based on my notes, which are right here," Melissa instructed, gesturing to the messy notepad.
Joy was taken back, but she recovered quickly. "Right away," she responded, standing up. Then, she stopped in her tracks. "But I don't have a car…"
Melissa smirked. "Every assistant gets a car—here," Melissa tossed a silver key at Joy. "Go downstairs and into the garage."
Joy smiled. "Thanks, Melissa!"
The petite brunette skipped out of the office.
Melissa waited until Joy was out of earshot before she picked up her phone. "Aaron? Yes, I need you right away. My new assistant wants to take measurements of you for our fall line. Tomorrow? Perfect. See you then!"
"Wait, so your aunt suddenly pops up, interrupting your after sex snuggle?" Gwen asked.
Nina groaned. "Yes. And my fiancé left for a month-long trip in Arizona. You know what's in Arizona?"
"…rattlesnakes?"
"Women! His coworkers! His friends!" She shouted, exasperated.
"Whoa, do you seriously doubt him?"
"No, it's not that. I trust him—completely. It's just that," she sighed, "I made him move his entire life. I don't know much about his life there," she admitted. "Or how attractive his female coworkers and employees are…"
"Are you seriously—okay, I say this in the straightest way possible, but you're fucking hot! And judging by the quantity of sex you're having, your fiancé agrees with me. So, if some average blonde in a tight skirt intimidates you, I'd suggest you take the next plane out and show her how it's done."
"Gwen! I can't just drop everything and jet off to Arizona. I have Will, a custody case, and I have to write the screenplay for the sequel to Living by the Shore."
Gwen held out her hands in surrender. "It was just a thought! Just a thought…"
Nina's phone buzzed, and she checked it. Her eyebrow furrowed in confusion. "I just got a $15K royalty check," she said. "Do you know about this?"
Gwen fervently shook her head. "No. Does it say what it's for?"
"HoA," she read and shrugged her shoulders. "I'll get that cleared up—"
"Hey," Gwen exclaimed. "Did you call my sister?"
"I did, and your sister and her supervisor agreed to take on the case. Thank you for suggesting her."
"No probably. She's a sucker for custody battles—and she's a big fan."
"You know, you've never mentioned your sister. What is she like?"
Gwen gritted her teeth. "Perfectly perfect."
"Gwen, are you okay?"
"…yeah," Gwen snapped out of her thoughts. "Tell Will I said hi."
Nina sent her best friend a concerned glance before leaving.
Patricia sat on the couch, reading. The streets of New York raged below her, and she found it oddly relaxing.
The door opened, and Eddie walked in. Though he was tired, his ruggedly handsome face still smiled at the sight of his gorgeous wife on the couch.
"Hey," he greeted her. He threw his satchel on a chair and joined her on the couch. "Where are Juliana and Francis?" He gestured to their shared room.
"Juliana is sleeping—she nailed her routines for the new coach today. And Francis is doing yoga."
"We have some awesome kids."
"Yes we do."
"And how is the latest addition to the Sweet family?" Eddie asked Patricia's small baby bump.
"Kicking and annoying—four more months until our fireball gets here," Patricia reported, sighing as she leaned back.
He rubbed her shoulders and kissed her neck. "But it'll all be worth it—to see that bundle of joy in your arms," he whispered.
Patricia smiled. "God, you're so sentimental."
He raised an eyebrow. "Is that a bad thing?"
"No; in fact, it makes you handsomer—if that's possible."
His grin grew.
"All right, don't let that get to your already big ego, Krueger."
"…love you, Yacker."
"Love you, too, Krueger."
*-Title taken from 1973 film.
(1) Since Will goes to an advanced school, he has skipped a grade. He's in third grade, with honors.
(2) Grips are used to eliminate the injuries you get from the uneven bars.
(3) Jerome's apartment is based on Anne Hathaway's Brooklyn apartment. Look it up.
(4) I'm contemplating writing a spin-off, with Jerome and Mara. It can be about their adventures and cases at the precinct. Would you read that?
(5) Remember the roses.
(6) Smooth, Mick. Smooth.
(7) Juliana's routine is Norah Flatley's beam routine—just a few changes here and there. Norah Flatley is awesome…just saying.
(8) I'm pretty sure that "friendly" punch wasn't so friendly…
-Morgan, xoxo