Part 7

John buried himself in research after Liz joked about getting a ticket for carrying a lunchbox on Main Street. That was something that he could track. She had scoffed at him and walked off but he had been completely serious. Outdated laws were everywhere but only a handful of people knew them in their specific areas. He never did find the law. He knew he'd heard that joke before but he couldn't remember who or when.

Immediately after that, John spent Halloween, All Hallow's Day and Dia de los Muertos in jail following a brawl at Stan's bar. Liz and Dean had picked him up without a word about the drinking. While sitting in the discharge room, Dean had climbed into John's lap, placed a hand on each of his shoulders and told him "It's okay, Dad." John, and a couple of the station secretaries, had nearly burst into tears. Dean sat in the backseat while Liz steered them to Pastor Jim's. John was bloodshot and far too sober. His knuckles bruised.

Sitting in the driveway, no one got out of the car. Liz finally took a deep breath and started in on him. "You should have let me know. I put the boys to bed and Sammy woke up screaming in the middle of the night. I thought you had it. He had an earache… and I let it go all night because I thought you were with him. It wasn't until Dean came and got me…"

"Where was Jim?"

"Jim was gone on a retreat. He told you last week. It was just me and the boys. I took them Trick or treating and I took Sammy to the doctor and…" She cut herself off.

"Where is Sammy?"

"Pastor Jim got in right as I was leaving. Dean refused to stay home."

"Dean, go inside. See if Pastor Jim needs anything." John ordered. The boy did as told. The sunset glared at them. "I… refused my phone call. How'd you know where I was?"

"Angela told me this morning. Said your car had been in the lot all weekend and Stan was gonna have it towed. She only told me cause she wanted to make a bid on it but figured she owed me the heads up." She bit her tongue against a curse word. "Dean and I walked to pick it up." She faced him. "I don't know where this is heading with us, John… but I'm not doing this again. I'm not going to sit home and wonder where you went or why you're gone or if you're in a drunk tank or in a hospital or … lying dead on the side of the road. This is the last time I do it. Right now. This moment."

John nodded to himself long after she'd gone into the house. When the lights were turned on in the front of the house, John dragged himself inside and straight upstairs for a long shower. Once he was clean, he plucked Sammy from the high chair at the table and just held on while everyone ate dinner. His little ear was still red but Sammy chattered happily enough while scooping his peas into his mouth. Jim didn't address him in any specific manner but John had nodded that he understood that he was on thin ice where the pastor was concerned.

--

Thanksgiving. John had spent the last three weeks stealing kisses with Liz on walks or in the hallways or in the Chevy after work. A couple of times, he felt sure she was goading him into making the first move or else. He was definitely sure the time that Dean walked into the kitchen just as John had her cornered against the sink. John hadn't budged, just sent the boy a look. Dean had rolled his eyes and walked out with a "fine, you win." John had snapped his head to her. Liz had burst out laughing and pulled him against her. "Your runt gives his approval in such a nice manner."

Thanksgiving. A small affair at the pastor's. Liz did some light cooking. They ate a small lunch then Jim took the boys visiting parishioners with him. John and Liz took a drive. Which ended up with them parked beneath some trees. Which began with them seated in the backseat talking about nonsense. The demise of the Beatles. The demise of Bad Company. The demise of music as far as the 80s were concerned so far.

John didn't know or care anymore who had made the first move. All he cared about was how much skin he could touch and taste. How close he could pull her hips to his. How fast he could get all their clothes off. John pulled her beneath him, tasted the skin down her neck and the sweat on her chest. Quietly groping and slipping clothes onto the floor. John settled himself between her legs, brushing her hair out of her face. He almost chickened out. He opened his mouth to break the silence with something stupid like "I haven't done this since my wife died" or "I might not last long, it's been 2 years." But Liz covered his mouth with hers, pulling him down flush against her and then he gave up finding words. He should have asked before but he knew she had no memory of her first time. Neither of them had expected this to actually be her first time.

That had been a surprise to them both. Her gasp, her grip on his arm, the tears in her eyes. Comforting whispers, relaxing touches until she was ready to keep going. Afterwards, he watched her carefully but she didn't let that momentary confusion ruin the moment. It made something old resurface in his soul. It could have been awkward. She could have been upset but she ran her fingers up his arm and curled into his side but she didn't talk about it. She commented on the Skynyrd song playing and then the Kansas song but not on her first time with a man. Not even after the second time, or after the third time while they listened to tapes she had found under the seat. Then she popped in Zeppelin IV while he caught his breath, and with that… lying in the backseat with her draped on top of him, John felt something break free inside his chest. Just some little piece that broke off and faded away.

Watched her wriggle into her jeans once more, tuck her panties into his jeans pocket while brushing her mouth over his. Drove to the house with her underneath his arm. They washed the boys and she got them to bed with a story. They cleaned up themselves and had coffee with Jim in the kitchen. When they made the trek upstairs, John just followed her to her bed. Decision made. She had stood there, lip between her teeth for a moment before just leaning over to draw the sheets back. Fourth and fifth to follow before finally falling into sleep.

--

Jim was not impressed with John when he stumbled into the kitchen at 6 am looking for the coffee. John held up his hand for silence until he had drained half his first cup, and then motioned for Jim to get on with it. "This flirtation has gone too far, John. You can't lead her on. What happens to her when you get a lead on this demon?"

"Strictly speaking, Jim, this is none of your business."

"Down the hall from your sleeping children."

"Way I used to do it."

"In my home."

"Well that part was new."

"John." Jim started in on him again but Liz walked in, wearing John's USMC shirt and flannels. She poured herself a cup of coffee and tilted her head at them. "Good morning, Liz."

"Morning, fellas." Liz sipped her coffee and stepped into John's side. Automatically, his arm fell over her shoulders. "The boys are stirring… I figured pancakes? Slight break before the feast of leftovers?"

"Sounds wonderful, Liz." Jim nodded, his mouth set in a tight smile.

"I'll help." John cleared his throat. He kissed her temple and turned to find Jim's mixing bowl. He had intended to help to keep Jim off his back but soon found himself relegated to the table while Liz worked the kitchen. He did help Sammy up to drop his chocolate chunks and nuts into his pancake batter. Held Sammy to watch the batter turn into pancakes. Then had to repeat the process for Dean who added commentary. "Cool!" and "Awesome!"

Jim sipped his coffee and tasted his plain pancakes. "So, have some experience with pancakes?"

"Um… looks like." She grinned as she flipped a row for John's set. "Angela doesn't let me cook. I'm the floor display, she says."

"What's that mean?" Dean stared up at her. John started coughing and Liz smacked him. "What's it mean?"

John set Dean's juice on the table. "She's got a pretty smile. Like the mannequins in the store window, only real."

Dean's fork hovered over his pancakes. His eyebrow poised in disbelief at the lamest lie he had ever heard coming out of his father's mouth. "Dude, who do you think you're talking to?"

Jim took a deep breath. "Men like looking at pretty girls. A smart diner owner puts pretty girls out to waitress so that men linger at their tables and order more food." He patted Dean's shoulder. "Liz is a pretty girl."

"If you say so."

"Hey." John frowned at him. "Don't be a jerk, dude."

"Same goes for you." Liz warned him. She nudged Dean when she handed John his plate and sat down with her own. "Dean and I will always, always have Charlotte's Web."

"You swore you wouldn't tell!" Dean dropped his fork.

"I did not swear. I said that Charlotte's Web would be between you and I and it was. I held the book between us the whole time." She winked at him.

He scowled but shoved a bite of his pancakes into his mouth. As with all men, the way to their hearts is through their stomachs. "I guess these are pretty good."

"Be sure you thank the cook properly." Jim prodded Dean.

"Thanks, Liz." Dean forced out, then quickly shoved another mouthful in with his fork and fingers.

Liz grinned at him, then frowned when she caught sight of a knot in his hair. "Dean, what's with your hair?"

John reached over to inspect it. After a few tugs, he sighed heavily. "So, were you chewing gum last night?"

"Yeah, so?" Dean blinked up at them as he continued to shove pancakes into his mouth, smearing chocolate and syrup everywhere.

--

Liz wrapped a towel around his shoulders and plopped him on top of a stool. With the scissors, she clipped out the gum. Chiding softly to sit still, she went about evening out his hair. White blonde on the ends, all gone to the ground for the birds. Sandy brown, floated down in large clumps. She took pity on him and took the buzzer to the back and sides, leaving him something up on top to spike up. She giggled after his bath when she showed him out to use some gel to get the ends to stand straight up on top of his head. It felt so familiar, she ached. Who else had she taught to spike their hair?

Dean took the operation like a true soldier. He had marched into the living room, fully shorn, cleaned and dressed like a private ready for inspection. John had looked him over and nodded his approval, ruffling the now hardened edges and yelping in surprise. Dean giggled and tackled his father's knees in his moment of surprise.

By the time Liz had gotten there, John was under full assault by both of his boys. Dean took care of tying up the hands and Sammy got his daddy with lots of wet kisses. She felt Jim step up behind her. He squeezed her shoulders and leaned in. "I was upset this morning about the turn in romantic climate but I think it has some influence on John and his newfound joy in fatherhood. I don't mind so much anymore… not that my opinion counts for much."

"He's a good man." Liz whispered back. "I… feel so… blessed that he feels the same way about me."

"Have you learned to read the interminable?"

"Maybe."

"You really do him good, Liz. Just… keep it up. I didn't like the path he was on. This one feels clearer."

TBC