A/N: These drabbles are headcanons from a little exercise that myself, PiscesChikk, jakela, SWWoman, crypticnotions, carolinagirl919, and wolfmusic218 had fun kicking around. I'm going to leave this story open so I can add to it when the muse strikes me. ETA: These particular drabbles aren't a collaboration. They were written by me with the encouragement and support of the lovely ladies listed. :)
Disclaimer: As usual, not mine.
Which one thinks they do something better than they really do?
Joss thinks she's gotten pretty damn good at lip-syncing to Adele's "Hello", but John thinks it still needs work. It starts out as a joke to embarrass Taylor, but she's become inexplicably obsessed with the song.
When John walks into the bathroom one evening to find her slowly gyrating in front of the mirror in a pair of skimpy black panties and nothing else, crooning the tune in a low throaty voice into the top of a hairbrush, John smiles, shuts and locks the door and eagerly offers his services as her prop. She happily agrees.
Who takes longer getting ready in the morning?
Joss has her morning routine down to a science. She's always ready to go in thirty minutes flat, hair done, clothes on, small hoop earrings in place. But she just can't figure out what takes John so long. Despite the fact that he wears the same damn thing every day, she often finds herself kissing him goodbye and heading out of the house long before him.
After nearly three months of dating and two months of spending an appreciable amount of time at each other's residences, she finally discovers his secret. She walks into the bathroom one chilly fall morning to find him leaning close to the mirror, a small, fine-toothed comb in one hand, a bottle of hair gel in the other and a scowl planted firmly on his face as he attempts without success to wrestle his stubborn cowlick into place. She thinks it's equal parts hilarious and adorable, but the answering frown he aims her way isn't at all amused.
Which one likes to read in bed?
John is always bringing home really obscure books from the stacks of the Library. It's become his thing. Joss teases him about it as she turns the newest thick tome over in her hands, reading the inside covers with barely disguised amusement. He's lost count of how many times she's asked him just when he became so enamored with subjects like theoretical physics, ornithology, or the study of Hegel's Logic.
She never makes him feel foolish about this strange new obsession however, but spends her time lying next to him in bed, asking him questions in a sleepy voice about his latest book as she slowly dozes off. In fact, he's grown so fond of having Joss sleep peacefully beside him while he reads late into the night, that it has become his favorite part of the day. He's never had a real routine before save for his time in the military. And even then, it was one that was so devoid of light and joy that he had begun to resent it. But this time with Joss has come to represent normalcy in a life that is anything but, and he cherishes it like a rare jewel.
Who does the grocery shopping?
Joss has only asked John to do the shopping once and quickly learns to regret it. He returns from the store with so many boxes and bags of Ho Ho's, Twinkies, cookies and candy that she has to make him take some of it back. He pouts like a schoolboy, and although she finds it quite charming despite herself, she refuses to give in. She lets him pick out two of his favorites from each group and then marches him out the door for a second trip to the store.
After learning the hard way that the man has a sweet tooth that would rival any six-year-old, she's come up with a foolproof system. Now whenever she's forced to send him to the store, she leaves a detailed list where he can't pretend not to see it. To this day, a running checklist sits smack dab in the middle of the refrigerator door where Fusco has a good laugh at John's expense every time he sees it.
Who does the cooking?
Joss can definitely throw down in the kitchen when she wants to (or has the time), but the first time she tastes John's cooking she knew she was outmatched. One bite of his chicken marsala, roasted asparagus with minced garlic and oil, mashed red potatoes and homemade cornbread, and she's ready and willing to permanently hang up her apron. Plus, she thinks there's nothing better than a man that can cook. And absolutely nothing sexier than a man that can cook well. And watching John Reese's tall, lithe form move gracefully around his well-appointed, gourmet kitchen is practically orgasm-inducing.
The number of times she's interrupted him in the middle of preparing breakfast or dinner to drag him off to the bedroom has become legendary. It makes her blush with a little embarrassment and a fair amount of lust whenever she thinks about it. She can't count the number of times John has had to remake stacks of thick Belgian waffles he'd lovingly made from scratch or stick a fresh batch of garlic bread back into the oven after the first one had been scorched beyond saving. But he never complains, insisting that she never need apologize because a slightly charred meal is more than worth the trade-off.