A/N: I hope everyone has a good holiday!!

"…tell Robbie Maxwell to go fuck himself…"

Jack's startling words brought Rita out of her kissing-induced trance, and, foggily coming back to reality, she looked around Mr. J's darkening apartment and realized that time had actually passed. It was getting late and Robbie would be coming by to pick her up soon. Being in Mr. J's arms felt so good, though…they were locked around her like steel. Even at that, she sensed he was giving her a choice. She searched her soul, placed her hands firmly on his chest and shyly looked up at him. She licked her lips—she could still feel his touch on them—and said regretfully:

"Mr. J…I really need to go. I told Robbie I'd be ready at seven…."

Jack smiled down at her, his mouth slowly widening in what started as a silent, wheezing chuckle that graduated to a full blown seizure of laughter. He released her, gracefully fell back against the wall and started to sink to his knees, as if the hilarity of the situation had weakened him so he couldn't stay on his feet.

"Ah, Miss Rita…" he gasped between chortles, "That deer in the headlights look! You're such a sweet little baby. Aw, jeeze, I have GOT to get myself a girlfriend…" He finally shook his head like a dog throwing off water, and pulled himself up to his full height. He turned to face her apologetically, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

"Look, Rita, you know this was totally, um, inappropriate behavior on my part, right?" His voice was gradually coming back into control and his face now bore an earnest expression of sincerity.

"You'll have to forgive me, I just got…overcome. Don't know what I was thinking. Are you ok?"

"Sure, Mr. J…I'm all right. That was just…kinda weird, you know? But…nice." Rita didn't know what to say. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, but she definitely felt something disturbing had happened, no matter how much she had liked it.

"No, no, no, no. It was…wrong," Jack said firmly. "And, I'm sorry. I'm the adult, and I wasn't lookin' out for my little pal like I shoulda. But, I told ya, kid, you're dangerous! You think I wanna land my ass in jail over a little kiss? Nope, I gotta stay away from a sexy temptress like you. You need to go play with your new boyfriend, leave me alone!" He was holding his hands in front of himself, defensively, as though attempting to fend off her invisible advances. He grinned sheepishly at her, waiting to see what she'd do.

Rita laughed, relieved. She found it hard to admit, but she had been a little…scared. But, here was her old Mr. J, he'd just been teasing her, as usual. It was going to be ok.

"Yeah, I guess. I really like you, Mr. J, I don't want to cause you any trouble."

Jack nearly started laughing hysterically again. Fuck, this was killing him, it was too easy….

"Oh, goodness, you're no…trouble, sweetie. Look, you run along…have a good time. Let me know how it goes, ok? Remember what I told you…pay attention. Good advice, huh? I oughta follow it, myself…" he said, his voice dropping, halfway to himself.

"Sure, Mr. J. I'll be careful. I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" She hastily slipped out to the hallway.

He nodded, smiling, and shut the door firmly behind her. He chuckled to himself as he headed back to his office. He really had to quit amusing himself like this; he had work to do….

***

Robbie Maxwell pulled up in front of Rita's building and honked his horn repeatedly until Rita stuck her head out of her third floor window. He waved, indicating she should come on down. That irritated her a bit. Wouldn't the polite thing be for him to come up and escort her to his car? Oh well. She waved back, grabbed her bag, and headed downstairs.

Robbie took her to a nearby casual restaurant and bought her dinner. They chatted amiably about the trials and tribulations he was having with his car, his job, and calculus. He then turned his attention to analyzing his team, how they were doing in the playoffs, what a great set up he had carried out at the last game, how much he hated the new uniforms, but how much loved his coach, etc. Rita listened, initially interested, but found her mind wandering. It was hard not to think about how Mr. J's tongue had felt between her lips…realizing Robbie had actually asked her a question, she shook out of her reverie, and asked, "What did you say?"

"I said, have you made it to any of the games this season?"

"Oh! No, not yet. I've been kind of busy…"

"Well, you'll have to make the next one. We're up against West Gotham, and those guys are killer…but we'll take 'em, I've got some ideas…" Robbie launched into another explanation of his basketball court strategy, and Rita nodded, appearing to be fascinated, but in reality, she was wondering what Mr. J would think of this conversation. He'd probably be faking interest, all the while asking Robbie inane questions designed to show him for the narcissistic ego maniac it was becoming clear that he was…Rita grinned at the thought. Mr. J didn't suffer fools gladly.

It was a good thing Robbie was cute.

After dinner, Robbie drove them to his house. As Rita got out of his car, she noticed it was the only one in the driveway.

"Are your folks at home tonight, Robbie?"

"Naw, they're out of town. My dad's got a medical conference or some damn thing. It's just you and me tonight!" Uh-oh, she thought. Plan an escape route…

Robbie led Rita into the large house, upstairs to his room. It was a typical teenage boy's bedroom, with sports posters, car memorabilia, and pictures of a bikini-clad Mara Simpson all over his dresser. Rita stared at the photos. She knew Mara; she was a snotty rich girl that had often made fun of Rita in middle school.

"Do you and Mara…go out?" she asked.

"Used to…we kind of broke up." Robbie shrugged, and indicated his desk.

"I guess we can work over here…or maybe it would be more comfortable here?" he pointed to his bed.

"The desk is just fine. Do you have another chair?" Rita was firm.

Robbie went to get one, and Rita looked more closely at Robbie's room. He definitely wasn't a neat-freak, that was for sure…

Robbie gamely attempted to follow Rita's explanations of different math concepts and they worked for about half an hour before Robbie's attention span gave up the ghost.

"Damn, Rita, this stuff is boring. Let's take a break, ok? I'll bring up some refreshments…"

Robbie returned with a couple of beers.

"Oh, Robbie, I don't drink," Rita stated.

"You're kidding! It's just a beer! Come on, it'll help you relax. You really are wound up tight, you know that?"

"Robbie, I don't want a beer. I came here to help you, and that's what I intend to do."

"Help me, huh? Well, I like the sound of that." Robbie took Rita's arm and led her to the bed. He pulled her down next to him, laughing a bit nervously.

"Come on, honey, let's get to know each other a little better." Robbie pushed Rita down on the bed, and started kissing her. Rita's thoughts were coming fast at each other, to the point of colliding in a mass of confusion. If it had been a month ago, a week ago, even a day ago—she wouldn't have been able to put them in order. But suddenly, Rita had a clear picture of what was happening. And what she wanted to have happen. And of one thing, she was unquestionably certain.

Robbie Maxwell was a bad kisser.