Listening to Cher while rollerblading down Liberty Avenue should be an Olympic sport, John muttered to himself with a satisfied grin as he was attacked by a brisk oncoming wind. Sure, he could have rode bikes like Ben and Michael, but his style was a bit closer to the ground, more Gene Kelly than Fred Astaire if you will.

Liberty Avenue was home in many ways. He had moved away from Troy, or possibly it was vice versa. Once he had tried settling with Emmett and then Emmett had tried the alone thing after Ted and moved right onto Debbie. Lots of drama and John tried to be supportive, but just getting over his own drama was by far enough for him. Emmett leaving that apartment open, however, gave John the opportunity to navigate and socialize the gay waters like never before. The friendship that he'd begun with the boys had blossomed beyond his dreams. Yes, even with the legendary Brian Kinney.

John swung down the street with a rolling cadence. His now ever-present American Outfitters khaki bag featured one appointment book and idea pad, a requisite John Grisham paperback, extra dark orange sweater or workout gear, and the scarf been had given him. John reached down to pad the loose Velcro button that flew into the wind occasionally. And just as that which never failed, he had hit the chorus of "Strong Enough" when, while rolling through the exit of a parking garage, his habit of not looking both ways before crossing the caught up with him.

It happened in severe slow motion. He felt himself flipping forward over the dark blue Mercedes and John tried to keep his feet straight so as not to break an ankle in the roller blades. John noted by the license plate that the navy blue sedan was a rental. He lay there less than a pace from the tire, stunned. The world was so strange and peaceful when you watched it from the sky. His mp3 player had been protected by an inner pocket and so the next song began, blissfully unaware of the fall.

The car door opened and John didn't react at first. He only saw the dark brown leather sole and the lighter tan khakis. The body was lean and long, smooth knuckles with a hint of wrinkle. The guy was youngish, with a tinge of age from his career but without sign in his raven locks. Man, John thought to himself as he registered the man staring down at him, this guy's loaded.

At first, John seemed blissfully unaware of the man and his increasingly-furrowed brow. He was probably shouting something in Mr. Tripp's direction. John shook the ear buds from his ears and down around his neck. The stranger spoke first. "Oh my God, are you okay?"

His voice was tinged with worry and a bonus English accent. His deep blue shirts matched a variety of tints in his eyes. John took a moment to respond. "I've been worse. Should probably get up though."

The man licked his lips and extended his arms. After a bit of trial and error, there was an agreement between the two that the roller blades made helping more difficult. John turned after extraditing himself from the ground in the wrong direction. "Sorry that I gave you such a scare."

The stranger waved the thought off. "No, no. I was more worried that I injured you. All you Americans drive on the wrong side of the street enough as it is anyways…"

John chuckled. "You might say that."

The lines on the driver's forehead began to fade just a touch. "…and I thought I might have read the rule of pedestrians wrong as well. Do let me make it up to you."

John shook his head. "I don't think I have time today, unfortunately. I was in quite a bit of a hurry of my own, off in my own little world. I'm late for a lunch date with a couple of friends."

The stranger's face fell a bit. "Oh. Well, I'm going to be in town on business for awhile, perhaps later then?"

"Perhaps. And from the look of your rental, you can afford to really make it up to me."

The driver chuckled. "Not quite. I spoiled myself on the automobile. I felt I needed to make an impression with my clients."

John couldn't stop himself from making the joke with a straight face. "Well, it has made quite an impression on me."

The foreigner winced. "And whom might I ask have I made the impression on, so that I might find you again? Preferably without running you down."

John smirked and extended his hand. "John Penn. And I have the pleasure of meeting…"

"My sincerest apologies, hitting and rudeness. Where have my manners gone? My name is Devon Masters."

John took a moment with the handshake. "Well, Mr. Masters, seems that no damage has come to your car and since we're both quite busy today, I must bid you a fond and hasty farewell."

John turned away but was stopped by Devon's voice. "And how will I find you, Mr. Penn?"

John smirked as he bladed backwards. "I wouldn't worry about it. I'm pretty infamous around here."

He was still chuckling when he reached the bench in front of the Liberty Diner. John was greeted by his favorite sight in the whole world, Ben's professor coat. Time moved just as slowly as when he had flipped between the releasing of his blade straps and sneaking glances at Ben's property through the window. Wiggling his toes a bit to return circulation, John entered in his pair of dark Green converse and the din of the Diner at lunch wasn't as deafening as he had expected.

"What's so funny?" Michael queried.

"Nothing."

"Hey Red! Are we getting the usual?" Debbie hollered from over by the counter.

"Love ya, Debbie. And with hash browns please!" John blew a kiss in her direction.

Ted addressed the newly-occupied space to his right. "Feeling adventurous today? Bound to give yourself a heart attack with all that grease."

"Nonsense. Live by moderation; that's going to be my newest rule."

Emmett chimed in as he walked towards the table. "Well, three cheers to that."

Ted answered. "To the grease or the moderation?"

Michael responded with a touch of humor to his voice. "At this diner, either."

"I heard that." Debbie called from the warming window.

"And I didn't hear you arguing either."

John's slightly winded face turned to see Ben on a rare lunch break. He felt blessed that he was winded simply by the fact that Ben wouldn't see the crawling blush for the umpteenth time. Ben sighed on cue. "Well, unfortunately you have impeccable timing John. I have to get back to school."

Michael turned to his lover with a slight pout dangling on his lips. "Are you sure you can't stay just a few minutes more?"

Ben shook his head. "I'd stay longer, but I do have to face a stack of essays roughly your height and three very angry juniors about various mid-terms."

Michael slid himself into Ben's side. "Poor baby."

Emmett noticed the way that John found his silverware very interesting at that moment. He did however manage to mumble a bit of conversation. "Was it those Tennessee Williams' papers you had your American Lit class do?"

Ben turned away from his love, a bit of glaze over his eyes. "Hmm? Oh, yes." Ben sighed heavily. "Never give a college student the means to bash an incredibly significant American author."

Emmett slid into the space next to Ted and John. "I'll bet they're about as vicious as a gay man on a bad line of Armani undies."

"Something like that." Michael moved from the booth so Ben could slide out and grab his coat. He produced a book from his pocket and returned it to John. "Thanks for loaning your copy of the Analects to me. I just haven't had time to get by the bookstore recently."

John shrugged his shoulders. "It's alright. Besides, I know where you live."

With that, Ben grinned and made his exit, leaving John for his finale departing kiss on the head. Emmett noticed John's smile, which could have lit every bulb on Broadway. Debbie trudged over with several plates of food, including Michael's usual Wednesday tuna melt. "You ain't staying?"

Emmett scurried to the other side of the booth, giving John and Ted some breathing room. "No, he's making room for me Deb."

John tried waving Ben away, but he could feel Debbie's hand on his arm as one of the plates slid onto the table with a slight clink. "Holy shit, what happened to your arm?"

Ben leaned over in his coat and John cringed with embarrassment. "It's nothing. I just got in a little scrape with a car."

"On your roller blades?"

John turned toward Ted with a withering look. "Yes, on my roller blades. Guess that's what happens when you feed a gay stereotype about being distracted while listening to Cher."

Emmett looked as though he was going to burst into song. "Ooh, was it Strong Enough?"

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ben and Michael interjected at the same time.

Debbie pointed toward the back with her head. "I've got a med kit back there."

John tried to diffuse the situation. "Will everyone calm down? It was a little scrape, that's all. No damage to either side, just an English accent and a dark blue Mercedes."

Ben lifted an eyebrow and then closed his mouth when he thought better of what he was about to say. As he passed the door, Emmett picked at one of Michael's fries. "Was he cute?"

John's instant reaction was a nod, although he'd be the first to admit that the accent was a good enough reason for even thinking the ugliest foreign speaker delicious. Debbie piped into the thought. "Well, all right. But you let me know if I can at least get a Band-aid for you or something. What'll it be Emmett?"

John looked down at his scrape, watching the reflection of Ben leaving in a nearby spoon. He had an ache in his gut, wanting to lie about the scrape to keep Ben's attention, but feeling guilty for that need at the same time. He wanted Ben to worry about him. But then again, he'd lived through worse drama than a Telemundo soap and he needed more Ben worry like he needed another hole in his head.

Emmett interrupted the inner monologue. John's head craned upwards as Debbie laid his chocolate chip pancakes, hash browns, and bacon down in front of him. "I'm sorry Em. I just caught my reflection in a spoon," John lied.

Ted spoke. "Wondering who that handsome devil was?"

Michael grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Maybe he was looking at my spoon."

Emmett rolled his eyes and soldiered on. "Anyways, I was wondering about your plans for the Liberty Ride John. You've been working so closely with Mel and…"

John blinked. "I've still got a little over a week to see if I can get the passport. It's looking grim, I'm not gonna lie. Besides, I'm better with fund raising than actual riding."

"You should come. It'll be exciting." Ted interjected.

"I agree with Teddy. Nothing like a change in scenery to lift the spirits." Emmett reached over and patted John's arm as he reached to retrieve a slice of bacon from his own plate.

Michael lifted a fry to his mouth. "Actually, not going could be a silver lining for me as well."

John furrowed his brow as he bit into bacon as well. "How so?"

"Well," Michael's face lit up with the brilliant idea in place," if you can't get a passport in time then maybe I could turn the shop over to you for a week. I could stand to keep the inflow of revenue and you can monitor all the website security, pay pals, and stuff of that nature."

John thought for a moment. "Seriously? That's like giving a bear cop the keys to a jelly donut shop, don'cha think?"

Michael shrugged. "Why not? I can trust you and what's the worse that could happen? You read every comic like Hunter and never dust anything? I'll even through in a couple of those Peach Snapple Iced Teas you like."

John ripped into his pancakes as he thought, complete with butter and syrup dripping on the plate. "Well, that would solve one dilemma." He began to chew when he had another thought. He finished the bite and then made an exclamation as he dove into his bag.

Ted squished into the window to give John a bit of room. "What are you looking for?" John uncrumpled a bit of newspaper from his bag. Emmett accepted it and made his own exclamation after scanning it. "Oh what?" Ted asked a bit impatiently.

Ted took the paper from Emmett and let Michael scan it afterward as well. Michael read some bits out loud. "Antique shoppers day retreat…"

John raised his eyebrows in Emmett's direction. "Sounds perfect."

Emmett nodded. "I'll see what I can do with my schedule."

John shook his head as he speared a bit more pancake. "You own your own business, Em. Just call Margaret Thatcher and tell her she can plan her next affair without you."