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Caleb Holmes
Coffee and Breakfast
Sun May 15, 2005 21:18

“Take Sean inside, would you?” Caleb had worded it as a request, but John knew better. Oh, he had heard that tone of voice countless times, and never disobeyed. The ones that did were left in conditions better off dead because of their unwillingness to follow orders.

“Yes’sir.” Catching himself before he nearly snapped a salute, and feeling rather sheepish for it – even if he was the only one that knew of the transgression – John turned on heel to find Sean already disappearing through the rear entrance of the home. Shit! Well that made him move all the quicker, forcing himself not to rush through the door, even when a resounding crash leapt across the boundary. Calm, cool, collected and… shit, this wasn’t working. Biting back a frown, he took the leap of faith into the kitchen, hoping there wasn’t going to be bloodshed.

There wasn’t. Only broken pottery.

He does have nice shoulders… No! God bless it all, no! John began to mentally berate himself for such a weak disposition; it wasn’t as if he wanted to stare at Sean’s heaving back or well-formed arms. Yes you do! Shut up! At this rate he was going to convulsively swallow his tongue. But apparently his feet had a mind of their own, carefully picking way ‘round the shattered pottery, closer toward Sean. He’s angry… Oh, that wasn’t even the word for it. The lad was disturbed on one of the deepest levels a human possessed.

“She’s my half sister.”

What? Frowning, he crept closer toward the antagonized and obviously distraught performer, hand twitching forward, almost wanting to give the boy sympathy. Hadn’t Caleb mentioned that Sean and Lucy had been friends since their teenage years, if not younger? It was one of the things that Caleb had been understanding about: his need to know who each person was that walked through the door, whatever history they had, and anything else that could possibly make his mind cease its infernal shouting with a newcomer. Hell, he was seriously eyeing the business card of a government shrink as of late.

Yet, before John knew it, he was face to face with Sean, the younger man’s breath hot against his cheek, sending gooseflesh across his shoulders and down his back. An eyebrow quirked on both features, and he could feel… something. Like the little smirk that was so sensual, curling the corners of Sean’s lips. Hey! Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts! Like that was really going to work, with the man standing so closely! Oh God, oh God, oh God! It was like a little mantra in the back of his mind, once he noticed the fellow eyeing his lips in the same fashion! No. This was not going to happen. No way, no how. Period!

“I’ll just let myself out. Lucy knows where to find me if she wants to talk.” John’s chest was tight with anxiety, feeling as if he had gone through the rigors of training ten times over. Pain. Live it. Love it. Before realizing it, Sean had sidled aside, treading out toward the door. Of course, his stupid feet had to do the thinking for him again. Several yards behind, watching the man’s exit. When he didn’t want to see it! Yes he did. Oh, you don’t know what the hell you want!

Thud. There went the door. Sighing, John’s long legs traveled the last few yards, leaning against the door in an effort to refrain from wrenching it open. This was not natural! None of it was. What he needed was a heavy dose of anti-psychotics, some alum in his food and drink, and a shitload of cold showers. Then it’d be just like the army, and at least then he’d be at ease. Even then… Stop thinking about the showers! What the hell was happening to him?!

Christ. That is the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Oh God. Absolutely certain he had imagined it, and just to prove it to himself, John took a peek out of the peephole. … Shit! He was still there. No, it wasn’t natural, and it wasn’t going to happen. Before Caleb and Lucy could catch his shaking shoulders, John ran up the stairs in an effort to hide his thoughts away.

Party, party, party!

“You are a freaking loon, Holmes.” Shooting a look at one of men assembled on the back deck near the pool, Caleb shook his head. Apparently word had gotten out about Camelot being performed, and an amazing number of men had attended. Quite a few in suits, others in various forms of suitable dress, but they were all the same; former… coworkers. Would explain why quite a few of the theater people were inside, now wouldn’t it? Speaking of which…

“Movie time!” Quizzical looks shot in his direction, and the evil grin to end all grins followed. “Even you will claim its adorable!” Finger thrust at the heckler that he had never truly liked back in the day, so it didn’t especially matter. Herding the remaining fools into the house that had opted to stay late into the night. And on the way in, an amiable arm was slung around David, who had opted to go with the better liquor outside. “I’ll be sure to hand back the originals, as long as Lucy doesn’t torch the tapes.” Evil giggle. Twenty minutes later…

“Oh my God! Caleb, you turn that off right now!” Intercept, its good! Hauling Lucy off, it seemed like the best place to make her stay put was with the surprisingly well behaved police officer. Who promptly pinned her in, using Moira as a wedging block to keep the girl in one place. “You are dead meat, Holmes.”

“Which one of us?” There went Moira, being a smart-alec again.

“Dear, you are rather… cute.” Even James was needling her?! The world was obviously coming to an end. Well, actually, the Wizard of Oz was, in this case, and the assembled posse that still remained turned toward the tapes and DVDs still remaining. Yet, for the most part, it was just the people that they considered family. Some theater rats, Rob and Beth, the clan in its entirety, Ben and Hugh… How in the hell did the circle continue to expand? He didn’t understand it! Then it was too late, Jane lunging for a DVD and popping it in.

“No!” Only the newer productions were on DVD! “Damn it, Jane!” Too little, too late, because there was a bulky man holding his shoulders down while another sat on his legs. Ack! Sean was in his lap! God damn it!!

“Since Lucy has been thoroughly humiliated,” the Emperor – a.k.a. Dad – decreed, “I believe its time that we critique… Caleb’s performance.” They didn’t have to look so god damned gleeful about it! Seriously! And it wasn’t a Playhouse performance…

“I play the fop better than that!” Sean declared, giving the plasma television a disparaging glance before sliding from Caleb’s lap. Thank God. “Who is this idjit, anyhow?”

“Michael Pierson.” Ooh, was that a protective note entering Caleb’s voice? “A jackass that acted more like La Carlotta than anything else.” Mumble, grumble, glare! Of course, Ray’s production was a great deal different than David, who had amazingly opted to keep truer to Webber’s vision of the production. Everyone had seen the play, or performed it too many times to count, and the DVD was soon rejected due to over play. “Now, you didn’t think Lucy was the only one with a dark past, did you? Maestro, if you would!” Uh oh, another VHS tape. This couldn’t be good.

Provocative stripper music. Screaming women. Low lights. And a thrusting pelvis.

“No! Noooo!” It served the bastard right! Imploring John for assistance, Caleb pinned Sean to the edge of the sofa with his legs, while the bulkier fellow simply grasped the performer’s ankles. Not going anywhere now!

“Hey! The fop could’ve used some of this pelvic thrusting! Would’ve added to the… charm.” They were really wearing off on Bennett if he was making comments like that! But it was grand fun, with Sean huffing and puffing until his cheeks attained a rosy hue. Aw, was he blushing?! Fabulous!

The night couldn’t get much better than this.

Birds chirped and leaves rustled with the wind’s caress, offering a peaceful retreat and paradise all in one. At least John was beginning to think so. Sometimes he felt like it was going to shatter into a million pieces that would carve away at him. What the hell was wrong with him? He never acted like this! Boredom tore through his mind…

Last night, it had felt far too good snatching up Sean like that, even if he was following an order. Was that his problem? As free a man as he’d ever be, or so he thought, and here he was still following orders. He really didn’t mind; Caleb was a good enough guy, he supposed, even if they didn’t part on the best of terms. Then the man had been shipped off to London, and he had gone onto other assignments. Funny, everything had seemed so simple then. Why did it appear to be so complicated now? Because he wasn’t living the regimental life any longer?

Bah! Screw this, he wasn’t a philosopher. He was a fighter. And this bastard wanted breakfast.

Sneaking inside was a trifle matter, at least being quiet about it so he wouldn’t wake up the sleeping people. Rifling through cupboards and the refrigerator yielded fantastic results. In fact, he would have never imagined the ingredients to be hiding in this home. Caleb was some a health nut! Lucy had probably squirreled them away, which made him chuckle. Quietly humming a melody as he began cooking the bacon, and went about chopping and slicing vegetables, breakfast was coming together in quick order.

Eggs! Yum. Profuse use of pepper, some salt, screw worrying about your high blood pressure thank you very much. Only after something resembling an omelet was set to cook, did he rifle through the cupboards in search of a suitable coffee. Dark, strong, rich. One that put the tar in cigarettes to shame. Ooh, plantation coffee! It wasn’t native, but it was strong as hell. Perfect. Maybe it was a CIA thing, because as soon as John got the opportunity, he was cleaning up after himself, going so far as to wash the used knives and dishes, dry them, and put them away in their respective places. Hah! Couldn’t say he wasn’t a courteous usurper of the kitchen.

“Buona mattina!” It was twenty minutes later that Lucy stumbled into the kitchen, bathrobe, slippers, and all. In John’s humble opinion – and it was damned humble – the kitchen smelled fantastic. Smelled like home. Pouring a cup of the strong coffee for the younger woman, and one for himself, he took a slow sip. “Quello è heavenly…*” She hadn’t uttered a peep, which meant either she was a horrifying morning person, or was a wee bit absorbed in her coffee. Maybe both? “Avete dormito bene? Spero che siate affamati. Ho fatto la patata Frittata della pancetta affumicata.**” Did he just see her perk up? Taking it upon himself to allow the food to speak for itself, John dished a portion out for Lucy’s breakfast, not waiting to serve himself before settling down at the kitchen island to eat.

Even lost in his thoughts, he never realized the possibility that Lucy was not fluent.

* That is… heavenly.
** Did you sleep well? I hope you are hungry. I have made Bacon Potato Frittata.

  • Fruits and VegetablesLucy Avellino, Sat May 14 23:39
    “Take Sean inside, would you?” Sure. Take the varmint inside and keep him under house arrest. Sean glanced towards the locked door, then wisely decided not to press his case. Italian women were very... more
    • Coffee and Breakfast — Caleb Holmes, Sun May 15 21:18
      • Hot Cross BunsLuciana Avellino, Mon May 16 15:10
        He stepped mechanically through the motions, body and mind doing their best to synchronize at the behest of the katas. Muscles once driven to the edge of tension slowly began to loosen up as Sean... more
        • Star CrossedCaleb Holmes, Tue May 17 02:42
          It was the first time that John had smiled – truly smiled – in a long time. “I miei genitori sono venuto in America quando ero giovane; tutta la nostra famiglia ha incluso. Spendere i vostri giorni... more
          • Tears of a ClownLucy Avellino, Wed May 18 15:31
            Lucy stood at the top of the steps, toweling her hair dry, and watched Sean stalk out of the kitchen into the foyer. He glanced up, sharing a frustrated glance with his sister before exiting the... more
            • Of Nightmares and DreamsA Company of Miscreants, Wed May 18 19:14
              He had ran. John couldn’t help it. With Sean’s body pressed so tightly against his, he couldn’t bloody think properly! It was an intoxicating experience, the faerie tale sensation broken by the rude... more
              • Codes and RiddlesCaleb Holmes, Wed May 18 23:51
                His chest felt heavy. Beyond that, laden with the weight of the casket. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt as if it were his fault for Beth’s death. If he had never retired, taken Lucy... more
                • Dastardly DeedsLots of Characters, Thu May 19 16:29
                  Oh Jesus. The last thing Sean expected was this . . . a large hand settling against his jaw so timidly that the underlying fear just about broke his heart. Any thoughts of gallantly backing out of... more
                  • Invention of the A-BombCaleb Holmes, Fri May 20 01:07
                    Why could things never be easy? Frowning, John watched Caleb retreat up the stairs, obviously intent on getting at least a modicum of sleep. Why the idiot actually assented to taking over Agent... more
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