Disclaimer: I am not making any money from this writing exercise, blah blah blah. Please don't sue. As usual, reviews are welcome and encouraged.
Author Note: Thanks for all the kind comments. Life being what it is, this update took a bit to finish. Hopefully this story will wrap up in a few more chapters, then we'll move onto the next fic.
A thousand words of thanks to my beta reader, the venomous pixie, for her diligence and insight.
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Forging Connections
By littlelights
Chapter Nine
LaMontagne: When I first started as a cop, I worked the Quarter. It's like being in the riot squad every night. Every Sunday I'd get off work around sunrise, I'm ready to pass out, my daddy'd be waiting for me at my house. Make me drive him uptown to Frankie and Johnny's for poorboys. Called it communing with New Orleans.
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New Orleans was a place which existed between several states of being, a curious mix of the past bleeding into the present. The tacky never far from the aged and tarnished, upscale across from the down-and-out, tears amid a jaunty blues march. Everyday, more areas of the city were being rebuilt, chalked full of cheap drywall and dull modern designs. But the French Quarter and all the old places, they were relatively untouched. It was good to know that even when the technology and corporations took over more of the spaces around the city, New Orleans would still beat its lifeblood of the unexpected.
Among the throng of the moderately populated areas up from the garden district, most of the locals wouldn't have paid much attention to a neatly dressed couple, their matching paces spurring them toward a small local drinking establishment up the street. The woman sweeping the front steps of a small guest house dismissed them as another couple on their way to meet a group of friends. The street cop walking his beat found his gaze instantly drawn to the pretty blonde, but then recognized the man who was holding her hand. The two men nodded to each other and didn't look back as they continued on their appointed routes.
Bill led JJ through the narrow and dimly lit interior, his eyes adjusting to the familiar environment of Parasol's Bar. Toward the back, his best friend George O'Dell St. Sebastian sat in a corner booth, drinking a social-sized bourbon. Upon seeing them, Dell raised his glass in a jaunty salute, the mixture of his Creole and freedman's heritage apparent in his dark and handsome features.
For Dell, it was good to be home, sitting in his favorite bar, inhaling the heavy scents of good food and blue-smoked cigars and waiting for his best friend to show up for a drink or two. In his opinion, it was about damn time Billy LaMontagne got out of the parish station and started living his life again.
When they spoke a month ago, Dell learned that his bon amie finally found himself a lady friend. Over the rim of his glass, the man still smiled at the memory of that conversation.
"Someone's finally getting a little sugar in his bowl," Dell had said, chuckling shrewdly. "What's she like?"
"You wouldn't believe me," his friend answered. Billy wasn't one to spill his guts to anyone but his late father and Dell, and even then it had been surprising to hear a rather detailed description of the situation. Beautiful young government gal meets dedicated yet morose local detective. It was definitely something to ponder.
Whistling softly under his breath and lips breaking into a smile, Dell saw how his friend's expression never shifted as he approached the table. There was an easygoing grin on his face, which was something Dell hadn't seen in a very long time. The girlfriend was incredibly pretty. There was something in the way she walked, a hand clasped with Billy's, which gave Dell an impression of indulgence. Given the small venue and almost claustrophobic isle ways, she was willing to let his friend part a path through the crowd. For the moment at least.
When they approached, Dell rose, and held a hand out for his friend to grasp. "I was wondering when you'd come out and join all of us in the real world." They embraced like brothers. Then his eyes wondered to the lady at his side. "But if this divine vision is the reason for staying in your apartment, then I don't blame you."
Bill shook his head, but colored slightly. "Behave, Dell. I've told her a lot of good things about you. I didn't even lie that much."
"No lies necessary. I am exactly as good as I seem. Some of which might be true, and the rest is probably too long of a story to tell," Dell replied. He held out his hand suavely. "Dell St. Sebastian. And you're the reason my friend couldn't return my phone call for the last two days."
"Everyone just calls me JJ," she said, shaking his hand and keeping some sort of control over her impromptu embarrassment. Were the two of them that transparent? But the moment passed, and the three of them slid into the seats at the table.
It was the first time Bill and Dell had met in person for nearly three months. They shared a round of good natured barbs, tossing out new news with a few scraps of the past. In Dell's mind, Bill seemed definitely more relaxed, his smile was quicker and the grief he'd kept so close for the past year seemed to have finally dissipated. As a couple, Bill and JJ were strangely discreet, choosing to keep their still entwined hands under the table and out of view of the public.
"Billy told me how the two of you met," Dell motioned the waitress over for a drink order. "Sounds like something out of those novels my sister likes to read. Of course, I wasn't privy to the full details."
"Details of the case or …?" JJ asked.
"Oh, your case? Murder of any kind isn't new to this city, cher. I only know what was in the papers, and what I heard from places like this. But concerning the two of you, Billy's been my sole source of information."
She traded looks with her boyfriend. She was accustomed to orchestrating nearly every aspect of a media circus and relaying information that reflected the worst of human behavior. But she hesitated slightly, unaccustomed to discussing her personal life with anyone, even the people with whom she held in her strictest confidence.
"He scored major points in the way he told me he liked me," JJ said finally. She cocked her head to the side and flashed her boyfriend a teasing smile. "And he was persistent." She told an abridged version of her story, which ended when the waitress delivered brimming glasses to their table.
When he realized JJ was not about to tell him anything further, Dell took control of the conversation. By the end of the first round, Dell was at his most charming, regaling JJ with stories of the past he and Bill had shared in New Orleans.
Dell and Billy had been friends since Mrs. LaMontagne had died, and it had been an unlikely bond from the beginning. Like some families, both the LaMontagnes and the St. Sabastians could trace at least one ancestor back to the original French exiles who'd been kicked out of the conquered British colonies of Canada. Billy's kin had settled down quietly for generations, blending in until the landscape became part of their blood. They were proud people, who had the uncanny ability to raise their children well regardless of what happened in the outside world. But Dell's folks were a blend of Cajuns, freed slaves, creoles, and if he chose to believe the stories, pirates from the ranks of Jean Laffite himself.
The St. Sebastian family had moved into the neighborhood when Dell was five, looking forward to settling into a larger home. As a youngster, Dell really couldn't remember much of that time. Most of it was lost due to the short attention span generally gifted to all boys, but with the exception of two very vivid memories. The first was holding his younger sister, Antonia Marie, when his parents brought her home from the hospital. The second was walking down the neighborhood sidewalk and seeing a sad-looking white boy sitting despondently on the curb. The boy had a green rubber ball next to him, and although he held tightly onto the toy, his eyes were distant and slightly dazed. Curious as to why such a great ball wasn't being used, Dell had managed to coax little Billy LaMontagne into an impromptu streetball session.
Their friendship had been that simple. Dell finally had had something other than a baby sister to play with, and Billy had a friend to help him rebuild his life after his mother's death. Billy needed someone to remind him how to breathe again and Dell needed someone who would say, "I don't know if this is such a good idea …" and then follow him into whatever fool thing he was about to step into anyway.
They had grown up together, bouncing between the St. Sebastian and LaMontagne households with an ease born of indelible friendship. And when they'd grown up and no longer walked side by side down the same streets, the two of them had always managed to meet up at some point.
Parasol's close quarters provided JJ and Bill with an excuse to sneak unobtrusive touches. It was enough to make Dell want to poke a little more fun at his friend, but he quickly changed tactics and produced a series of sidesplitting jokes.
When JJ excused herself for a quick trip to the ladies room, Dell waited a respectful six seconds before issuing a rather verbal summery of his appreciation for the woman who'd vacated the table.
"Whoo. You know you're the luckiest SOB this side of the state, right?" Dell deadpanned. "You really held out on me this time. That is one of the finest women I've met in, well, forever actually."
Bill nodded his head and offered a faint grin in return. "She's something."
"I know three people who would snatch that girl up in a minute for a modeling contract."
"She'd have 'em protecting their privates before they could get a word out."
"And she's beautiful. I thought you were joking about the 'smart, brave, pretty' bit. But I forgot about the LaMontagne policy of modesty."
"Worked for my pop. Works for me." The furrow in his brow became more pronounced for a second. That old look of pain rose quickly, and it alarmed his friend immensely.
Dell responded to Bill's shift in demeanor, the concern apparent in his actions. "Hey, your dad, he'd be proud of you." Dell said directly, looking his friend straight in the eye. "You know that."
"Yeah." Bill said grudgingly.
"He'd want you to put all that behind you now," Dell continued. "I mean, look around you, man! When Katrina came, you evacuated a third of the people out of here, and stayed to see the worst of it. You've helped this city come back into its own again. You solved the case your dad left behind. And now, you've got a beautiful woman who loves you."
The pain in his friend's eyes was replaced with something terribly close to embarrassment. "I don't think things have jumped that far ahead yet," he said, hoping to skirt around the issue.
"Boy, you're a liar. That girl's in love with you, and you're in love with her. It's as plain as day on her face. And it's on yours, when you're not beating yourself up over the past, that is." Dell let the tension of the moment fill to the brim like a full glass of beer before he let it spill. "All these things," he motioned around the room "are yours. You've pushed yourself aside for long enough, Billy LaMontagne. You know about the two sides of life. The bitter and the bad stuff's been doggin' your tail for long enough. You've gotta grab the good things when they happen."
Dell tipped his head toward JJ, who was walking back to the table. "And that, mon amie, is a damn fine thing. One of the best things to ever happen to you, I'd guess. The past is where it belongs. She's here with you, right now. Remember that when you're walking home with her tonight."
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He was strangely quite while they were walking back to the apartment. JJ squeezed the small of his back a bit, and she was rewarded with a small grin. If he'd been angry or upset, he would have said something. Her gut said something transpired between Bill and Dell while she was away from the table, and part of it was hanging like a cloud over head.
She took a breath, feeling uncomfortable breeching the emotional boundaries which were painful in any relationship. When he was ready, he'd be forthcoming.
But she wasn't nearly as patient as she aspired to be.
"Hey," she said softly. "Are you ok?"
Her question had the desired effect. The arm around her waist held her a little closer as Bill surfaced from his thoughts. He swooped in to place a slow kiss on her temple. "Been thinking about my dad." His slow lowland accent made the words seem all the more profound. "It's been over a year since he died. But since we solved his last case, it's like part of him isn't here anymore."
"Your last link with him is gone," JJ said as she nodded her head in understanding.
He had the sudden sensation of loosing time. Being pulled back months ago when he'd shared the same sense of loss with the woman walking beside him. Only this time, her arms weren't folded across her chest, as if trying to distance herself from the situation. Her arm was curved around his waist, her body warm and relaxed from the nights they'd spent together. It was strange, and for a moment his he forgot where he was. Unconsciously, he spoke. "I still miss him." When the moment faded, he took a deep breath and allowed the present to seep back into his senses.
Bill shook his head with self recrimination. "Sorry, I shouldn't be thinkin' about those things right now."
"Bill, you're allowed to miss your dad. I know how much he meant to you." She was giving her emotions over to him carefully, as to not interrupt his own thoughts. It was like a tide, she thought, both of them taking turns immersing or retreating from the shore. "Loosing the people we love is always hard. Just because we're the ones who see it more often doesn't make us immune to it."
The way she said it, as if walking on a hair-thin sheet of ice, firmed a resolve he barely knew was there. With one step, he pulled her into his embrace and kissed her. He waited until her eyes ceased fluttering, when he paused and said, "Then you need to know right now. I'm not cavalier with what's happening between us. It's not casual or something to do for fun. Not for me, anyway. If it's something on the side for you-.."
"It's not," she said quickly, her arms wrapping around him tighter, trying to reassure him. "I don't want it to be that way either."
That placated him, but he continued. "I've thought about you more than you'll ever know." He collected himself. "It's not just sex. I'm in love with you. I won't say it in bed because that's normally when you'd hear it."
The shock exposed on her face nearly made him want to drown in the water surrounding the city. "You don't have to say anything. You didn't expect it." His mouth was silenced when her lips collided with his own. It was a fierce exchange, a pull of will and passion between the honesty of what he said and the depth of her own emotions. She tried to tell him in the way her hands engulfed his back and jaw, how much she needed to hear him say all those things. She loved him. She did. But she couldn't say anything yet. Love was too familiar a word and too commonly used.
JJ broke the kiss, and as if sharing a secret, she whispered in his ear. "Show me."
Together they walked quickly through the streets of the city. With each step the need fused between them threatened to boil over. In an uncharacteristic show of public affection, JJ nuzzled her head into the warmth of his neck. Every few minutes, she pressed tiny kisses on the sensitive areas within her reach. His throat, his jaw, his earlobe. Bill wanted to pick her up and sprint the last block home.
They barely made it through the door of his apartment. The lock was shoved securely and they were all over each other, the buildup of the last few hours overflowing. They moved from making out against the wall next to the doorway to any of the solid surfaces on their way through the room. They had each other on the small kitchen table, loosing garments and shoes in a haphazard trail down the hallway. When the first tide had been sated, Bill gathered JJ up in his arms and made a haven for them within the white sheets of his bed.
With her legs around his waist and her arms grasping his back and neck, he embraced the present. He worked a rhythm which was primal and instinctively ancient, which brought both of them to a blinding climax. His chest swelled when she cried out, so wonderfully free of the careful display she held for the public. He kissed her eyes, surprised to find nearly-shed tears around the corners of her eyelids. Recovering, she drug his lips back down to her own.
She hadn't run away in fear, or anger. He felt vindicated. Together, they could make this work, he thought, drifting into another exhausted bout of sleep.
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Strawberry Fields Forever. Press the blue button.
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