10:30 pm

"That's it daddy, give it to me…give it to me good…mmmmm,,,,,don't stop…harder…harder….yes...yeah," the beautiful busty blonde moaned in his ear, her long slim legs riding at his hips. And he obliged, fueled by the rhythmic sounds of bed springs and slapping flesh, and the smells of hot sex, overpriced booze and cheap perfume.

But suddenly, the blare of the cell phone interrupted the most delicious wet dream he had had in many nights. Hearing it, he sat straight up in his bed, disorienting himself in the process. He picked up the cell praying that everyone he held dear was OK.

"Yeah?", he asked, shaking his head to clear it.

"Lionel," a raspy baritone muttered.

"What happened?", Fusco asked, recognizing John's voice.

"I'm at the Just in Time Diner two blocks from your place. Get here – quick," John commanded then ended the call.

Fusco jumped out of bed, dashed to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. Reentering his bedroom, he picked up the pants ad shirt he wore to work earlier that day, which he'd deposited on the floor before he went to bed. He hurriedly put on the items, then slipped his sockless feet into his shoes. Finally, Lionel grabbed his tie, put that in his pants pocket, picked up his cell and overcoat then rushed to the door. He turned back to the bedroom, retrieved his service revolver and put it in his pocket, rushing out the door this time.

He was worried. If Wonderboy is calling me to meet at this time of night, it must be serious. God only knows what has happened….

Lionel was at the diner in 15 minutes flat. He scanned the eatery then saw John, facing him, sitting in a booth. John was drinking a cup of coffee as Lionel approached.

"Take off your coat and have a seat. Coffee?" John asked as he signaled the waitress to bring another cup.

Lionel looked John over quickly, concluding that he looked as he always did, darkly serious and menacingly brooding. He was wearing an expensive dark navy-blue suit, with a shiny navy shirt, two buttons open at the neck. His tie, undone, hung loosely. John's cologne was killer too and Fusco made a mental note to find out what it was.

As Lionel took off his coat in preparation to sit, John took in his appearance.

"I see you that you are dressed as crisply as always, Lionel," he deadpanned.

Fusco straightened his shirt, realizing that he forgot his sport jacket. Sitting, the stocky detective was at first confused, then miffed.

"Hey, pal. You called me, remember? I rush over here from a deep sleep and my warm bed to find you here casually sitting and sipping coffee. What the hell?"

Just then the waitress brought Lionel's coffee. "You need a refill sugar?" she said to John, running her hand across the top of her cleavage while smiling brightly.

John gave her a weak smile and shook his head no.

"Well?" Fusco asked as soon as the waitress left.

"It's Joss. She walked out on me at the restaurant, then kicked me out of her place, and is refusing to talk to me. To let me explain." John gave Lionel this look that was so lost and forlorn Fusco could barely believe his eyes, let alone his ears.

"So let me get this straight. You brought me over for here for lovers' advice? Like I'm Dear Abby or somebody?" Fusco asked.

John nodded.

After a moment in which Fusco stared at John in complete incredulity, Fusco cracked up laughing, continuing to do so until tears ran from his eyes.

"Lionel," John said, using his most menacing stare and voice.

"Oh no you don't," said Fusco. "That look and voice thing ain't gonna work on me right now. In fact – they might never work on me again. I can't tell you how many cool points you just lost," and Lionel commenced laughing again.

John continued to stare daggers, not giving a flying fuck about his lost cool points.

Once the laughing bout subsided, Lionel spoke. "You know, the thing is with guys like you, you don't have to work for it. You just show up and women are all over you like a cheap suit. In fact", he said, reaching into his coat pocket for his wallet, which he opened, "I will bet you…" Lionel commenced to count out bills…$83.00 and," he raised up from his seat and pulled a fistful of coins out of his pocket, counting the coins on the table. "And 25 cents that that chippie over there with the rack puts her name and phone number on the receipt.

Guys like me, we have to work for it. I couldn't begin to tell you what I had to do to get my wife to date me, let alone marry me. Every move takes careful consideration of her feelings, then in depth planning, and execution with surgical precision. The more serious you are, the more work you put in."

"But you're divorced," snapped John.

"Yeah," Lionel snapped back. "Because I stopped. I got complacent. You're so used to women falling all over you, you don't think. And you called me, remember? I'm telling you like it is."

"You make it sound like I'm storming the beaches at Normandy," John said.

"That's what guys like you don't get – you are, especially if you're serious. But you? Like I said, you just walk right in bam, there it is."

"There what is? I'm confused," John confessed.

"A woman who is interested in you. Wants you – the whole you, or even just wants to give you some pussy," Fusco offered wistfully.

"What?", said John, angrily. "I'm not a pussy hound, and Joss isn't pussy."

"I know that," Fusco, agreed, "but that ain't the point. The point is you don't have to work for it either way. See?"

John thought for a moment about his somewhat limited (by choice) experience with the fairer sex then replied. "Yeah – I see what you mean."

"OK. So today is Valentine's Day. Walk me through your every move." Lionel removed a small notepad and pen from his inside overcoat pocket as John looked at him quizzically.

"It's necessary. Let's hear it. Tell me everything. You want my help or not?" Detective Dear Abby asked.

John nodded then motioned for coffee refills for himself and Lionel.

"I texted Joss this morning at 7 to say I love you and Happy Valentine's Day. I asked her to dinner at Le Restaurant," John stated in a perfect French accent.

"Is that the new joint in Tribeca?" Fusco asked.

John nodded in response.

"I've heard good things," said Lionel. He then thought back to when Carter arrived at the office this morning. She seemed in a decent enough mood. Lionel remembered though how she had watched every bouquet, box of candy, card, and gift box with increased interest and almost expectation as they arrived at the precinct for co-workers throughout the day. Her interest seemed to fade, however, as the day wore on. She seemed a bit less cheery as well.

"Go on," Lionel coaxed, making a few notes.

"Dinner was at 8," John continued.

"No other contact during the day?" Fusco inquired.

"No."

"Have you had other Valentine's Days with Joss?"

"Officially, no, but I have done little things like a card, note, or a small gift on the holiday over the past 2 years, to let her know I was thinking about her."

Lionel noted that on his pad. "Dinner at 8 so you picked her up at 7:30."

"Actually no. I met her there," stated John.

"Who arrived first?"

"She did. Is that important?"

"Absolutely."

"What time did you arrive?"

"About 8:30 – traffic."

Fusco shook his head and started writing again. "So what next?"

"I gave her a peck on the cheek in greeting and another happy Valentine's Day," John said.

"Did you get her anything?" Fusco asked.

"Of course I did. I'm not a total dunce. I gave it to her after dinner and things went quickly downhill from there," said John.

"Details!" Lionel demanded.

"The gifts were in a red envelope – and no, there was no way she could have mistaken the package for a ring. The presents were two tickets for us for a week-long trip to Paradise Island Bahamas, and a $1000 American Express gift card for her to buy whatever she wanted to take or wear on the trip. I don't think she even saw the gift card. Joss opened the envelope, looked at the tickets, gave me the death glare, tore up the tickets and tossed them at me. She ran out of the restaurant as if her hair were on fire. She was in an UBER and headed home before I could get the bill paid and get after her. I got to her place minutes after she did, but she wouldn't let me in. I let myself in and tried to explain, but she threw me out."

"Did she say anything?"

"She said something to the effect that perhaps I would prefer to have a do-over down there with Zoe," John explained.

"Zoe Morgan?" asked Fusco.

"Yes."

"I think there's more to this story than you are telling. Let's hear it," Fusco said.

John sighed. "I had bought tickets to take Joss to the Bahamas last Christmas. But Joss and I…had a falling out and I went alone. Zoe found out I was down there and showed up mid- week. Told the resort staff she was my wife so they let her in to my room. I wasn't in the room when she arrived, but when I got there she was waiting for me in bed – naked."

Lionel's jaw dropped and he prayed to have this type of problem just once in his life. More importantly, he was completely bowled over by John's matter of fact delivery as if beautiful naked women turned up in his bed uninvited regularly. He snorted – they probably did. Certainly supported his theory…

"Nothing happened then," John continued. "I gave Zoe the bedroom and I took the couch. But New Year's Eve, 2 days later, it was a different story. Zoe left New Year's Day, early, and I left a day later." John took a deep breath. "Joss found out."

"So let me get this straight," Lionel said. "You gave your current girlfriend a vacation to a place you went with your old girlfriend? A girlfriend Joss hates, incidentally."

"How do you know that?" asked John.

"Oh, I don't know." Fusco replied. "Maybe it's the smoke that comes out of her ears anytime Zoe Morgan is around. Or the way Joss bristles when she hears that name mentioned. Damn that Zoe Morgan is a looker though. You can pick em, I'll say that for you. You probably didn't pick her or work for her either," Fusco groused, "and she just showed up naked in your bed."

He hadn't. "Yeah, well, I didn't pick Zoe and she was never my girlfriend. And I didn't invite her on the trip. The Bahamas was a place that Joss told me she always wanted to go. I just thought she and I could make memories there – the memories we were robbed of by our senseless separation last Christmas. Besides, Joss said she forgave me." John explained.

"Yeah, you and Joss had memories alright. And Joss may have forgiven you, but she clearly didn't forget. You did so many things wrong today I don't know where to start. And you know what? I'm not going to start. You think about things yourself. Replay the day and your actions with Joss, everything you did. Remember that Valentine's Day is a big thing for women."

"But Joss isn't like that," John insisted. "Big displays of PDA, expensive gifts. That stuff isn't going to impress her."

"You're forgetting. She is a woman at the end of the day, and every woman wants attention, undivided attention from the man she loves. The question is how can you give her that – doesn't have to be expensive gifts."

"I don't know Lionel," said a doubtful John.

"Trust me on this. Listen. I have an idea to get you back in there. It's 11:15. Text Joss and tell her that you've been thinking about her all day. That you apologize for your thoughtless behavior, and that you are declaring a Valentine's Day re-do. Tell her that 12:01 am begins Valentine's Day – a special one, just for you and her," Fusco suggested.

"Then what?" asked John.

"Channel your inner Fusco and all the guys like me. Think about all the stuff I'd have to do on Valentine's Day to show a woman she has my attention or just to get a hot night with her. Here you have a woman wanting to give to you, and you fuck it up. Hell, I bet Zoe Morgan even called you," Lionel said.

The look on John's face said she had. "You need to handle that too, if you want to keep Joss. Forgiven but not forgotten," Fusco offered.

"Give me those notes," John asked, no - commanded.

"Nope-you figure it out. Maybe you won't be so likely to fuck it up again. And also, remember the hour you have spent in this diner with me instead of buried balls deep in your woman," Fusco chastised.

"I am not sure I like that reference," John said.

"Yeah well. It is what it is at this point," replied Fusco. "Go ahead. Text her now."

John did as instructed.

Seconds after he sent the text, they heard the ping of a returned message.

"What'd she say?" asked Lionel.

"She said yes", replied John, smiling brilliantly. "Thanks Lionel." John gave the pudgy detective a brotherly clap on the arm.

Signaling for the check, John passed the waitress a crisp 100 bill. "Keep the change," he smiled.

"But we will need a receipt – it's a business thing," Fusco mentioned.

The waitress couldn't image what business the two were involved in. They were 2 of the most unlikely looking business partners she had seen in a long while.

But she thanked John and rushed over to the register. John and Lionel were putting on their coats when she returned with the receipt that she handed to John with a flirty grin. "Come back soon," she said, breathlessly.

Lionel watched this and gave John a knowing glance. He snatched the receipt and flipped it over. Smirking, he handed it back to John who looked at it. It read, Brandi (with a heart over the "i"), 212-555-0012. Call me anytime (the anytime was underlined).

They got to the sidewalk, "I have been at that diner 100 times, been waited on by Brandi most of those times and she never once asked me to 'come back soon'," Lionel said, mimicking Brandi's voice. "Pay up."

John fished out another $100 bill and passed to Lionel, who quickly pocketed the cash. "Easiest $100 bucks I ever made," he gloated.

"Hey, don't I get change?" John asked.

"The extra $11.00 is payment for services rendered. It's a steal. Make me proud, Wonderboy. Make me proud." They shook hands and both men headed to their respective homes.

When John arrived at the loft, he stripped off his clothes and thought about the past day. He formulated a plan for the re-do, making a few notes and doing a quick search or two on his computer. At exactly 12:01, he texted Joss.

Happy Valentines Day, dear Jocelyn. I love you more than words can ever say. Will you have dinner with me tonight? I will pick you up at 7. Wear that red sheath – I love the way it hugs your curves. Surprise me with your shoe choice, he texted and inserted a big emoji grin.

At the return ping, he read his message.

Only if you wear the gunmetal gray suit and black shirt. I love the way that outfit brings out the blue of your eyes. Surprise me with the tie and pocket square choices she texted and inserted a big emoji grin.

Deal. John texted. I can't wait to see you. Sleep well and dream of me.

John went to bed and enjoyed a restful sleep.

A/N: Hello my lovelies! This story came to mind and wouldn't let me go. My plan was to post it at 10:30 yesterday evening, but the characters insisted on additional chapters causing me to miss my posting target. The additional chapters are in editing.

I hope you had a better February 14 than John and Joss! Please review and PM me. Hugs!