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Janey Lara Sonnet Smith
Eight Easy Steps
Fri Jan 6, 2006 00:39

"But I'm tired of being pampered. And coddled. And cooked for."

These were statements that no one, least of all the speaker himself, could have ever imagined would issue from Sean Cafferty's lips. Just one day out of the arm cast and he was exhibiting all the signs of stir crazy. Three hours of watching Queer Eye didn't help, nor did basking in the combined cookery efforts of both John and Lucy. There was only one cure, and that was to go outside.

To paint the town red.

Sean folded his arms across his chest and sulked. Hardcore. Big time. The Pope wouldn't've been able to resist the classic Irish pout, so it was no surprise that John folded like a lawn chair. On one condition: backup. Another group of ruffians coming across the lone actor was not going to happen, especially not since last week's news, where the missing youths had been found in Maine aboard a whaling ship with no recollection of how they'd gotten there. With suspiciously effeminate tattoos decorating each ass.

John had almost drowned in his morning coffee at that, something Sean was determined to pry out of his lover at a later date. Now, however, there was a moving party to get organized. Caleb and Lucy cried off, and from the looks they gave one another, planned to spend the entire evening in bed. Fine. There were always more victi-- er, participants. Bennett was the first, roped into playing babysitter the moment he walked through the door. When informed there would be alcohol in the offing, his demeanor changed for the better.

Nigel was next, caught breaking into the kitchen via the garage in hopes of being treated to one of Lucy's dinners. When bribed with liquor, he joined his little brother in enthusiastic praises ... and then raided the fridge. Sean was prepared to ring up Moira but the love of his life (something squeed inside him at the mere thought) suggested someone different. Someone with old ties to the agent. Someone Sean himself was still trying to get used to.

Jane Louise.

The robe launched itself through the air, accompanied by a dozen verbal insults in French, straight towards Devon's head. "Get your ass out of my bathroom. I can clean myself!"

Day ... eight? Nine? Sonnet couldn't remember, and frankly, right now she didn't want to. Her mother had phoned barely ten minutes before to let her only child know that there was a dinner party arriving in a mere sixty minutes and that the injured police officer would be expected to participate fully.

Or, as best she could in comfortable clothing.

Sonnet had stalked into her bathroom in a snit, after tossing her expensive cordless phone at the wall, and began roughly removing her clothing. Devon, the horse's ass, had strode right in after her and begun easing the remaining garments off her still-tender frame. Like a baby.

It made her want to cry. But since neither Adams nor Marchands cried in public, shouting would have to do. It didn't seem to phase the large cop, though, since he simply batted away the flimsy bit of purple silk and gently manhandled her into the shower - socks, bra and all. Pleasantly hot water was soon massaging away some of her aches, and her partner's hands tended to the rest.

Damn him.

Sonnet hid her face, and let the tears mingle with the water, knowing the idiot wouldn't tell the difference.

The place was hopping; they were lucky to find an empty table, let alone one large enough to accomdate John and the rest of the party. Lounge Lizard was a bar near the hotel Janey was staying at that boasted live music every night of the week. Everyone but John had given her a strange look, since everyone knew her parents had an apartment in the city aside from their permanent haunt in DC. The blonde wasn't about to tell them she'd been flying out of La Guardia in the morning to a city thousands of miles away in the name of national security.

Tonight was what could be her last free night before facing possible death. Hell, that even sounded corny mentally.

A glance at John told her the man was completely wrapped up in nuzzling his boyfriend and enjoying the musician currently on stage. Which was good, since Lara was a college pal. The brunette stood on stage, belting out a song in her distinctive voice.

"How to stay paralyzed by fear of abandonment. How to defer to men in solvable predicaments. How to control someone to be a carbon copy of you. How to have that not work and have them run away from you. How to keep people at arms length and never get to close. How to mistrust the ones who supposedly love the most. How to pretend you're fine and don't need help from anyone. How to feel worthless so fast you're helping."
Janey idly downed the rest of her third Tequila Sunrise, feeling the buzz spread across her brain. Another drink or two and they'd have to pour her into the hotel room, but man, this time it would be worth it. She was hot and feverish, a soft glow enhancing her cheeks. Like Marilyn Monroe, this blonde had an itch to scratch and there were plenty of strangers to choose from.

"Hey, baby." She leaned across Nigel to tap John on the shoulder. "I'm gonna go find a one night stand, okay? I'll call you in the morning before I head out." He blinked, reluctantly turning away from the talented performer and made her repeat the entire statement.

And then had the temerity to laugh.

"Good luck finding a safe bet in this place, munchkin. Go home, take a cold shower and suck it up, soldier."


"I'll teach you all this in eight easy steps. In the course of a lifetime, I never forgot. I'll show you how to in eight easy steps. I'll show you how leaderships were taught by the best . . ."

Lara continued to croon onstage, pouring out her blood, sweat and tears to drunkards who'd never realize the genetic talent underneath the snappy beat and sarcastic vocals.

    • A Twelve Step ProgramJohnny-boy | Man-whore | Good Guys R Us, Fri Jan 6 14:32
      Oh geez, Sean was doing the puppy dog eyes again. He had no freaking defenses against that! Damn it. On one level, John hated how easily Sean could manipulate him into doing what he wanted. Like this ... more
      • A Girl Like You Next DoorJane | Sonnet | Lara, Tue Jan 17 11:24
        “Let’s go!” Janey eyed Nigel with something close to amusement dancing in her gaze. It was so like Indiana Holmes to infect the entire table, minus Benny, with dancing fever. She grinned as Sean and... more
        • Waking WoesNigel | Devon, Tue Jan 17 23:18
          “Hey, beautiful.” Nigel couldn’t help it. He had been watching her glance about the room with a furrowed brow, as if attempting to remember what happened. Well, irregardless, he wasn’t going to... more
          • Feeling Like a... Ahem!Bennet Holmes, Tue Jan 17 23:18
            Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Groaning, Bennett rolled over in bed, slapping his alarm clock at the ungodly hour of… Okay, so ten thirty in the morning wasn’t an ungodly hour. Well, it was if you... more
            • Pianos and PranksDeclan | Lara, Wed Jan 18 23:22
              A vacation sounded exceedingly nice, Declan thought later that afternoon. Faced with a sea of freshman, the tall professor remained safely behind his lecturn and finished rambling out the Battle of... more
              • Heart Attacks GaloreBennett | Devon, Thu Jan 19 02:31
                Now that he had had the chance to stretch his fingers and ease the dust bunnies from his voice box, Bennett was having a remarkably good time. Which was odd, considering he was alone. Usually, when... more
                • Turkey Day BluesMessers Schmidt und Krueger, Thu Jan 19 09:10
                  “Let’s start over. Hi, I’m Bennett. What’s your name?” It had been just that easy. Hi, I'm Laramie Sorensen and I think you're just swell! Ok, it hadn't gone quite that cheesily, but she'd been able... more
                  • Hershey KissesBennett | Devon, Thu Jan 19 12:24
                    Thanksgiving dinner was… just dinner. Sort of. That didn’t stop him from eating, though! Bennett smirked across the table at Sean and John, who were obviously playing a game of footsie. At one point, ... more
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