Safe and Sane

Memorial Day weekend meant that most people had three days off and intended to spend it either in sloth or trying to cross off as many things as they could from their "to do" list. The club was prepared for both cases.

They'd cleaned and restocked all the rooms, put up some new decorations and made sure everything was bright and shiny.

They'd also stocked up on burgers, dogs, and other picnic essentials and put grills and tables in the back parking lot. There was a threat of rain but if that happened, everything could be hauled indoors to one of the fire-safe play rooms. (Of course, that hadn't stopped some wit from putting an "in case of fire" sign on the inflatable kiddie pool.)

The main lounge had tables stocked with drinks and finger foods for those who didn't do meat or simply weren't the picnic type. Friday afternoon rolled around and everything was set.

He walked out of his bedroom, still dressed only in a pair of sleep pants and his glasses. He was carrying his (now defrosted) frozen peas and damp towels. Jack was on his heels, and his bruises had colored up nicely. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

John opened the door for Geoff. "So, this time you can sleep in the *bed*. That's a good thing. As long as you remember not to be offended by wet-dreams or dog hair." He paused as he stepped back so Geoff could come in, then closed the door behind him. "And there is *no* connection between the two."

The house was too quiet, he'd been missing Geoff acutely in the wake of Gus' moving out and disappearance. So, he invited him over.

It was late morning when Seb finally arrived at the right gate to Central Park, later than he'd intended to arrive. It meant that when he made his way to the place he'd agreed to meet John, Jack was already running around and taking all of John's attention, leaving Seb the chance to sneak up unnoticed.

He took a seat on a bench and watched John with Jack - and Geoff - until Jack noticed his arrival and came running towards him, barking excitedly.

Geoff showed up at the theater, waiting just inside the door against the bitter cold. His hands were in his pockets and he was far away enough from the rehearsal that John couldn't see his face until he came over. When John got close it was obvious he'd been crying. He was pale under red cheeks and his eyes were bloodshot.

He swallowed and gave John a watery smile, "Let me take you to dinner."

Geoff stretched out on the floor and groaned. "Snow. Snooooow."

It was snowing outside and pretty damned cold. "I feel the need to go sledding, but I am way, way too old."

John opened the door for Geoff, before he had time to knock or ring the bell. The only light on was in the kitchen, and that light spilled into the living room and cast it in shades of gray. Jack was curled up in a corner of a couch, sleeping deeply. Gus was nowhere in evidence, but the Master bedroom door was shut and there was no light coming from under it, so 'sleeping' wasn't a bad bed.

John stepped back to let Geoff in, "Come on in. The kettels on in the kitchen."

Dear John,

Merry Christmas, you bastard. Are you coming home or going to your parents?

Love,

Geoff.

Geoff sat down beside James by the bar, put a pizza on the counter and scooted it towards James. "This was clearly meant for you. I thought the pizza place just got the order wrong, but no, there's a cosmic rightness to it. Bon appeite."

It was a pineapple pizza.

John picked Geoff up and took him to a quieter gay bar -- older crowd, more businessmen than scene kids. Once they were there he found the nodded to the guy behind the bar who disappeared in the back. A few seconds later, just as John was stepping onto the dance floor with Geoff 'Better Day's started to play. The first words John said were, "Because everyone is forgiven now."

The only line that fit, but hey.

There was a Thanksgiving theme at the cafe. Wicker cornucopias were on every table, pumpkins everywhere, pumpkin spice offered for lattes, pumpkin pie, muffins, cakes, pecan pie, lots of strong coffee. But the most obvious were the horrified looking cafe workers in their pilgrim costumes.

Geoff was leaning against the bar at the club, sucking on a piece of pineapple of a tooth pick and eying his not yet touched drink suspiciously. He offered it to James. "Does that smell like sangria to you?"

John went to Geoff's apartment after church. He knocked on the door, and when Geoff answered locked eyes with him and continued their email exchange. "I think it's about forgiveness, even if you don't love me anymore." Only he dropped out the things they were saying, because they were saying them. It was the ones they werne't that were important.

From: John Harper
To: Geoff Aherson
Subject: All the roads we have to walk are winding

Geoff,

You know what they say about curiosity killing the cat? Well, apparently it kills Johns, too -- and if you make a prostitute crack, I will fantasize about castrating you and tell you all about it. In vivid detail.

Yep, I read your checklist. I'm not sure if I want to be proud of you, or if I want to go beat the ever-loving shit out of Donnie, because I know there's stuff on there that you never did with me. For the record, I'm leaning toward both, and debating making wise-cracks about our sexlife.

All the lights that lead the way are blinding,
John.

Friday night in Sal's was always a busy night. This Friday was a touch busier than most, because there was no chance in hell Lin was playing a set on his own when Carl was in town, and if Carl was playing, Lin was going to move heaven and earth to get him a good crowd. Didn't take much, a word here and there in the right ears, spread around the bar, the club, onwards and through.

It meant that Friday night was busier than most, but the crowd was in a damn fine mood. Mellow and easy, celebrating the end of the week with a couple of beers, a couple fingers of Jack, or just a couple of guys down one end of the room, playing guitars and singing together like their voices had shaped the songs together from their birth.

For some of the songs, that much was even true.

Wednesday night again. Fall past, and winter setting in with a vengeance. The outside tables had been cleared away, and the cafe was doing a brisk trade in hot chocolate, hot soup, and hot tea.

Only one problem.

The coffee maker was broken.

For one night only (because the repair man had been threatened, on pain of pain, to get the damn thing up and running again before opening time the next morning) the cafe was a coffee-free zone, and the staff were already looking stressed.

Geoff was slowly getting used to this whole. Club thing. To the extent that he flopped down on a couch with a newspaper, slowly reading through the election results and smirking happily.

He heard someone approach and lifted his legs. "Hi."

Geoff's curiousity had gotten the best of him. He'd spent time getting a place and now, well. John's club was niggling at him. He went in and got an application and a checklist. He wandered into the lounge, reading it and doodling on it, eyes wide and startled looking.

John rolled over in bed, stretched and groaned as he opened his eyes on the alarm clock. It was a bit after nine, which meant Gus was either at work or had been abducted by aliens. John was fairly sure Gus was at school, but would have rather been abducted by aliens. John would have preferred an anal probe to unruly children, anyday. ...Of course, John just generally enjoyed having his anus probed.

He stumbled out of the bedroom, went into the kitchen and started the coffee, came back and sat on the couch. And on Geoff. He made a strangled sound, jumped back up and turned around. "You're worse than the dog," he accused, a bit blearily. At which point of course, Jack came and lept up onto the couch, onto Geoff, and licked him. In the face. Wetly.

John smiled. "Actually, the dogs better."

He was playing. He hadn't had a chance to talk to Geoff yet. He was looking forward to it.

Geoff had arrived in Denver, driven to Boulder and completely failed to call John. He wasn't at the house, so Geoff googled "The Power Company" on his sidekick, and turned the car in that direction. He got in, walking in with someone because he had an actor's ability to look like he belonged. He wandered around, getting a feel for the building before asking someone, "Have you seen John? About this tall, dark hair, blue eyes, tends to sing? I'm carrying his love child and he's so difficult to locate."