London, England

December 19 1991

Taking in the elegant dining space, its arches and columns making up only a small amount of what fascinated him about the architecture, JR's gaze eventually settled back on his wife, who also fascinated him.

"I hope you like it."

Either ignoring his gaze or not noticing it, Sue Ellen directed his attention to the tea the waiter had brought to their table, one she'd insisted he try.

Bringing the china teacup to his lips, he was pleasantly surprised.

"Delicious darlin'."

"I'm pleased to hear that."

Meeting his eye for a moment, she smiled, then looked away, reminding him of what their relationship really was.

"You're sure the Englishman isn't coming?"

They looked like a couple and their afternoon tea at Claridge's was a social occasion, but things weren't as they had been before. She'd always be his wife, just like the president would always be the president, but the ring on her left hand hadn't come from him, and she didn't use his name.

"No. He knows why you and I need to talk."

"He's not worried I might tempt you to take this tea in my suite?"

Teasing her, he could only wish she'd take his suggestion to heart.

When he'd last seen Don yesterday the man hadn't been rude but hadn't exactly made him feel welcome to spend time socialising like old friends either.

"Unlike the marriage we shared, Don and I trust each other."

"Mm."

He and Sue Ellen had a history, one that her new husband would be a fool to pretend didn't exist. Trust was one thing, but temptation was quite another.

"Don't."

"You never think about us?"

"Oh I do, all the time. JR, we're better apart. Let's keep it that way."

"Are you sure?"

Shaking her head, she looked mildly amused by his insistent questioning, although she didn't continue to entertain the topic.

"Positive."

Turning her attention to the selection of delicate sandwiches, she made a selection and changed the subject.

"You wanted to talk about John Ross?"

He had asked her for a private moment in order to gauge how accurate his assessment of the situation was. John Ross was his son, so he wasn't uncomplicated; he could very well be settled into his new life, or he could be pretending in order to save face, to not appear as if he'd made a huge mistake in leaving Southfork.

"He likes it here."

Stating it as a fact, he meant it as a question.

"I've tried to make it a welcoming place."

"As opposed to Dallas…"

Gathering from her answer that John Ross wasn't miserable and putting on a brave face, he had mixed feelings. He wanted his son to be happy but it hurt that he'd found that happiness only after leaving everything he'd known to start over in a new place.

"He was very hurt by your relationship with James. Frankly, so was I, but we're not here to discuss that."

Surprised, having spoken very little to Sue Ellen about anything that had happened unless it directly had to do with John Ross, he had to ignore her closing comment and dig deeper.

"You were hurt?"

Straight-faced, she almost seemed not to believe that he was asking the question he was, although that didn't stop her from answering.

"I will say one thing on the subject and that's it", starting, she paused and looked at him as if she expected him to challenge or point out that she'd just told him she wouldn't discuss it and now was. He wasn't going to say anything of the sort though, he wanted to know what was going on in her head.

"It hurt me when you didn't question Kristin and it hurt me when you didn't question Vanessa. I will never forget the complete distrust you had in me."

Reminding him of things that had happened more than a decade ago now, the tone of her voice indicated the emotion she felt hadn't dulled in that decade.

"Christopher, James, and John Ross aren't the ones at fault here, you are."

It hurt to hear but she was right.

He'd given Kristin reason to claim Christopher was his son; he'd driven John Ross away with his inability to treat him like the individual he was and his inability to not repeat his own father's mistakes in playing favourites; and he'd driven James away by attempting to parent him as if he wasn't a grown man, his own man. Ultimately, James hadn't left because he'd pushed him too far, he'd left to pursue a happier life with his wife and son, but had he not left then it probably wouldn't have been long before he went the same way John Ross did, in a mood.

"I'm sorry."

"I hope you mean that."

"I do."

Offering him a soft smile, one that felt sad rather than anything else, she didn't question him any further.

"So, John Ross?"

Bringing the conversation back to where they'd been before they'd gone off on a tangent, he was a little nervous to hear the details of the situation he'd contributed to.

"He was broken and upset when he arrived but we've managed to help him and heal him. A change has been good for him, and I'd like to keep the stability if we can."

Saddened, her description of John Ross wasn't the only thing he noticed about her answer. She'd used the word 'we' which reminded him again of what a mess they were in. She'd divorced him before she'd met Don and she'd been particularly harsh towards him while she was still living in Dallas, but they'd had a hostile relationship for a long time so stupidly he'd thought her behaviour was all part of the volatile cycle they were accustomed to and he hadn't expected what had occurred next. One day, without warning, she'd gone from being Mrs Ewing to Mrs Lockwood, and the rest was history.

"I'm not here to take him from you."

"Good. I don't think he'd go if you were."

Reminding him that John Ross wasn't a toddler anymore, that he was more than old enough to make his opinions known, she inferred that his opinion at present was that London was where he wanted to be.

"I made a lot of mistakes and I'm paying the price for it now."

"Has your perspective changed?"

"Yes."

Honest, he didn't elaborate, although she seemed to know what to ask to make him talk.

"Bobby told me about the mirror."

Looking genuinely concerned, her expression gave him some hope. She did care, even if she tried her best not to show it.

"That was the lowest of the low."

He couldn't blame Bobby for telling Sue Ellen what had happened, he'd needed to tell someone after what had likely been an extremely traumatic experience for him, and she was probably the only person who would understand.

"Things are on the up now?"

"Actually, I was flatlining until I arrived here."

Admitting he wasn't doing well at all, that his life wasn't better than hers, that in fact he was miserable, he oddly felt better for having said it, even if simply saying the words aloud didn't actually change anything about his situation.

"That bad?"

"Mhm. I have nothing, at least nothing of value. It's not like the old days. Southfork is practically empty, business is non-existent and the social scene is bizarre. I don't know when I became old and uncool, but I am."

Audibly laughing, a smile was undeniably present on her face, which felt highly inappropriate considering the subject matter.

"What?"

Self-conscious now, he questioned her.

"Who called you old?"

"Nobody, it's just a feeling I have."

It was true, nobody had said it to his face but he knew they were thinking it. James' presence made his age even more apparent too; he had a son old enough to call his business partner, which made people stop to think.

"Have you tried spending time with people in your own age group?"

Laughing again, levity replaced Sue Ellen's hostility.

"What does that mean?"

"Well, you spent a good part of your career socialising with businessmen of your daddy's generation and your taste in women hasn't changed even though the decades have."

Frowning, he had an idea of what she was saying but he didn't know what her point was.

"It was fine to marry me when I was 22 and you were 30, but to marry 22 year old Cally when you were pushing 50 was a mistake."

Laughing aloud himself this time, he couldn't disagree with her. Everything about his marriage to Cally had been a mistake and her age was only a small factor in the demise of their relationship. He never would have married Cally again had she not supposedly been expecting, and Cally never would have told him that lie had Sue Ellen not coached her to, so Sue Ellen held some responsibility for keeping things going as long as they had, but she hadn't pushed him down the aisle.

"Now think about the rest of your personal interactions."

Giving him no time to respond to the first point, Sue Ellen moved on to another, one that he couldn't agree with so freely this time. He liked women, but he didn't pick them solely based on their age, if that was the case then he wouldn't have returned time and time again to Julie, pursued Lee Ann or attempted to resume a relationship with Vanessa.

"I don't want to know. I'm just saying."

Holding her hand up, appearing to know that he was about to protest, her perspective made him laugh.

She knew his personality and she knew him. She said she didn't want to be his wife anymore, but she didn't behave like it. Surely, a woman who cared nothing for him wouldn't be so affected by his attempt at defending himself, at clarifying what he did and didn't do and did and didn't want to do.

"Sure."

Picking up her teacup, she attempted to hide her smirk, failing, and grinning himself, he felt they'd turned another corner in their conversation, this time comfortable with each other again.

She was married, and not to him, that was a problem, but not one for right now.