Jhondie & Justin (5) – I & I & A Camera
Rated NC-17 (Actually, only one chapter is NC-17, the rest is PG-13)
Disclaimer: The concept of Dark Angel & Manticore doesn't belong to me. Everyone else pretty much does. That's kind of scary in a demented way, but Mr. Cameron is still welcome to sue for my '81 Corolla. Also, the song lyrics belong to Savage Garden, and even though they didn't give me permission to use them, you should buy the CD and listen to while reading because it really works when you do that. You'll know the part I'm talking about when you read it.
A/N: I feel as though I should explain something about this installment of the J & J series. It was never meant to be. Seriously. In the middle of writing the fourth one, I was asked to do a chapter in it involving pictures and a catfight. It just wouldn't work into the story. However, I had a really long day at work the next day, and to keep myself marginally sane, I started mentally playing with my fics and working on them. Then I got an idea, and my muse jumped on it and liked it. This is the result.
"So this is Boston," Jhondie said, flinging the curtains aside and looking over the busy downtown streets. "When do we get to go home?"
I laughed. "Considering it's your fault we're here, you don't get to ask when we get to go home." She pouted playfully. Well, it was her fault we were spending Spring Break here instead of in LA. She was the one who told Denise to invite us to her wedding. I didn't think Denise really would, but when we got the invitation I knew Jhondie had really put the fear God into her.
We had found out that Denise's Christmas present from her sucker, I mean, boyfriend was a two-carat diamond ring. Mr. O'Malley brought those glad tidings to us. The wedding had already been scheduled for the end of March by the time we heard about it. Denise wasn't wasting any time and risking Bradley finding out that he was marrying a mental case.
I wasn't surprised that Jhondie still wanted to go. She still had not forgiven Denise for everything she had done over Thanksgiving. She wanted to make sure Denise was safely taken care of more than I did and that was saying a lot. I had made Jhondie swear on everything holy that she wasn't coming here just to ruin the wedding. I wanted Denise married. I hadn't mentioned it to Jhondie, but Psycho sent me this long rambling letter three weeks before. She told me she didn't really love Bradley and she was finally ready to forgive me for cheating on her with Jhondie. I burned the letter. There hadn't been any others, so I was hoping it was merely the product of a drunken moment. It's hard to tell the difference between drunk and delusional where Denise is concerned.
There was a knock at the door. I opened it, already knowing it was Dad. We had gotten two rooms, one for Dad and I and the other for Jhondie. That was the plan at any rate. Jhondie had walked into her room, saw the king-sized bed, and with a wicked smile glanced back at me and oh-so-casually said, "You might want to claim drawer space now. I tend to take up to much if I go first."
I know I turned blood red. So did Dad, but that was more from holding back laughter than embarrassment. Sure he knew we were sleeping together, but it was expected to at least keep appearances. I was going to have to kill her.
"I'm going to put my things in my room," Dad said with a chuckle. I made a noise, I think it was supposed to be some kind of apology, but Dad just waved me off. "You're both adults, and I'm old enough to know that when a woman like that makes up her mind, you just step to the side."
He left, and I turned back to Jhondie. Dad had spoken softly, not that it did any good around Jhondie because she was smirking as she took some clothes out of her suitcase. Just because I liked the outcome didn't mean I liked her methods. I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her, ready to tickle in an instant.
"That wasn't very nice," I said warningly. She turned around, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing herself close to me. Was I upset about something? I forget.
"Well," she murmured with a little kiss to my chin. Not fair. "I wasn't spending the whole time we were here wanting you and having you right next door and not be able to do anything about it." She punctuated her words with little kisses to my nose and throat and neck. Then she ran her tongue lightly over my lower lip. That was when it's totally not fair to have a girlfriend that knows you that well. She knew I stopped thinking and started acting when she did that. She was counting on it right then. My arms tightened around her as I kissed her passionately.
We didn't have time to get started before Dad knocked. Jhondie groaned when I moved away from her, but for once I had to be the responsible one and stop. Normally I was the one muttering for five more minutes. Normally my father wasn't interrupting. I opened the door quickly before Jhondie got it in her head to stop me.
Mr. Carter was smirking when Justin got the door. Hell, he had three kids, he didn't need a map. But, we were supposed to be having dinner and I was starving. Airline food sucks. Not that I would have minded a, oh, say fifteen minute delay, but since he was here anyways, we might as well get some food.
It was cute seeing Justin so embarrassed. You'd think he didn't think his father knew that we were intimate. He was the one who went and told his parent right off the bat that we had slept together. I made mine figure it out. Actually she found some condoms exactly four days after she came back from Atlanta and I spilled my guts. Nobody can stand up to Mom's interrogation. It was better to confess rather than deny.
"Ready for dinner?" Mr. Carter asked. We were going to catch an early dinner so he could have drinks with Mr. O'Malley later. The wedding's dress rehearsal was tonight, and Mr. Carter said that his friend would need a drink after dealing with his ex-wife and her new husband all day. If Denise was any indication of her mother, I totally understood why Mr. O'Malley would need a drink.
"So where are we going?" I asked cheerfully. Justin wasn't saying much. He was so cute.
Mr. Carter had gone to college in Boston, so he knew some really great places to eat there. We went to this great little Italian place where the food was far from bad and quite plentiful and if you slipped the violinist a couple of bucks, he would go off and annoy people on the other side of the room. The evening was rather pleasant once Justin chose to start talking again.