Chapter 1 - Interruptus
A/N: Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I've been away for a while so here's my make-up offering…
The sun was peeking through John's bank of floor to ceiling windows, casting its warmth and glow across the two naked bodies that were tangled together and writhing in a steamy embrace in the California king-sized bed.
"Give it to me, Joss," John rasped, breathless in his desire for the woman he loved.
"I'll give you all you want, baby…"
John's erect penis nudged at Joss's opening insistently. In response, she opened legs and she raised her hips just enough to allow him entry. He easily slipped into the hot wet heat of her body and they each sighed deeply at the intimate contact, while holding each other tightly. Slowly, John sank himself deeper, deeper, gazing into Joss's eyes as he did so, the love and acceptance he saw there never failing to humble him.
"I love you so much, Joss, I-," his sentence interrupted by the sound of his phone.
"Fuck," John grumbled.
"We were about to, and it was going to be epic..." said a disappointed Joss.
"Don't make it worse," John complained. "I'll just ignore it."
"No, you will not, John. Answer that phone now or I will. We can pick this up later." Joss quickly kissed him.
John snatched the phone from the nightstand, looking quickly at the caller ID.
"Lionel, it's 8 am on a Saturday morning. What the hell do you want?"
"Good morning to you too, Sunshine," Lionel chirped. "I didn't know you were keeping banker's hours these days."
"I'm waiting…"
"Calm down, Wonderboy. Someone might get the impression that I interrupted something. Wait…is Carter over there? 'Zat the reason for the extra dose of venom this morning? Bow-chicka-wow-wow?" Lionel laughed.
John was about to launch into a set of insults but Fusco continued.
"Anyway, do you know that favor you owe me from last year's Valentine's Day when I saved your ass with Carter? Well I'm calling the favor in, so I need you to meet me at the Mid Town Diner in 45 minutes. Don't be late."
"Now wait just a damn minute," John sputtered.
"No, you wait," said an emboldened Lionel. "Do I need to remind you how you called me, waking me from a sound sleep to meet you? To listen to you complain about how Carter left you at dinner, kicked you out of her place and refused to talk to you? Hmm? Do I need to repeat the story of how I got you back in with her for a redo, and the wisdom I laid you on that night? Judging from the way Carter's been grinning, I'd say you have been living off that wisdom this past year. I repeat – you owe me and I'm calling it in. Forty-five minutes."
Moments like this and John missed the old style phones where you could slam down the receiver to let callers know that you weren't pleased. Instead all he could do was press the end call button and turn his attention back to Joss.
John huffed. "That was Fusco, sweetheart. I need to meet him, and I'm not sure how long I'll be gone. I'll call you once I know."
"Is Lionel OK? Do you need me to come?"
"No, no, stay, rest. He's OK, but he might not be for long after I get there," John groused. "Let me grab a quick shower and get dressed. Sooner I get there, the sooner I get back…" He kissed Joss at the crook of her neck.
Thirty-seven minutes later, John walked into the diner and spotted Lionel sitting in a booth on the left side looking over a menu. Lionel spotted John as well and waved him over.
"Take off your coat, sit a spell," said Lionel. "Want some coffee? Breakfast?" He signaled the server for another menu.
No, thought John. What I want is for you to tell me what the fuck you want from me at the butt crack of dawn on a Saturday morning.
"Soooooooo," said Lionel, "I guess you're wondering what I want from you at the butt crack of dawn on a Saturday morning."
"Very intuitive," deadpanned John.
The server returned to take their order.
"Coffee and an order of scrambled eggs – loaded, with wheat toast, please," Lionel said.
"I'll have the same," said John. "I have a feeling that I'm gonna need my strength."
Once the server took off, Lionel began.
"Valentine's Day is next week Friday and I need your help. I have a date with my lady, Rhonda. We've been seeing each other for 2 months. I have plans to meet her Friday afternoon for a trip to a gallery, then dinner, followed by a show, then drinks. What I want," Lionel said, "is to look like you."
John raised his eyebrows in surprise but kept silent. The look on his face did not escape Fusco, however.
"I mean – I want to be really, really, nicely dressed for the day. Put together, sharp, polished. Look at you. You're wearing some jeans, shoes, a sweater, leather jacket, scarf and a cap and you look like you walked off a page of some fashion magazine. Scarf and cap wouldn't have occurred to me even as cold as it is. Not only that, but I'm also wearing jeans, a shirt, shoes, and a coat, and I look like …well, you see what I look like." Lionel paused and hung his head, then looked up. "Rhonda's special – and I want to look special for her. Will you help me out? Give me some tips. Take me shopping somewhere?"
Again, John started to make a remark but he saw how important this was to Lionel.
"I mean, if you want fashion advice, I'll give Finch a call for you. He knows more about men's clothes than I ever will," said John.
"No disrespect, but if I wanted to look like that owl on the Zyzal commercial – you know, the one with the ascot, monocle and smoking jacket, I'd have called Glasses myself. Don't get me wrong – he looks good, real classy – but I know his look ain't mine. So again – will you help me?"
John paused. "Sure I will. After all, like you said, I owe you one."
By this time their food had arrived and they dug in. They were just about finished when John decided to start Lionel's education.
"OK, Lionel," said John. "Here are some basics that will serve you well. This is going to be short and sweet so pay attention. You mentioned a 'look' – these tips will help you find yours."
Lionel nodded.