pups_dt (pups_dt) wrote in morningstar_mnr, @ 2010-07-29 20:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | avery, jazz, lucas |
Apt. 12221, Evening, Avery, Lucas, Jazz
Lucas was putting his cooking skills to good use in helping Jazz with a surprise for his uncle. It was his 37th birthday afterall, and while Thomas was at a meeting in La Fee Verte, Jazz had asked Lucas to help her surprise him.
Finally everything ready food-wise, Lucas washed his hands and took a look at the clock in the small screen of the microwave oven.
"Jazz? You cool now?" he called out to the next room. "I really don't want to be here to witness whatever you and Thomas do on a special day - eewww - so I think I'm gonna get my stuff and go. And don't worry, I won't be here until tomorrow afternoon."
Jazz breezed into the kitchen after changing out of her jeans into the nice, pretty dress she'd picked out, still pushing the backing onto one of her earrings. "I think so," she sighed with a look around.
After an experimental shake of her head to make sure the earring wouldn't go flying she turned a smile on Lucas. "Thanks, Lucas. And for the help too - I don't think I'd have managed to get that in without help." She indicated the special order cake on the table with a jerk of her head. Then she checked the slim watch at her wrist against the time on the microwave. "Now as long as he doesn't decide to hang out at La Fee all night we'll be good."
"You serious? Be at work with people he mostly despises on his birthday?" Lucas asked and shook his head. "I'm actually pretty sure he'll try to be at home early. So I'll just go get my stuff and I'll be out of your hair. Which looks really nice, by the way," he grinned. He couldn't deny that Jazz was hot, afterall.
"Aww, thanks Lucas." Jazz laughed and beamed him a smile. "You are so your uncle's nephew." She reached out a caught Lucas' cheek in a quick pinch. "All cute and charming."
Lucas wrinkled his nose and quickly leaned back, away from the pinch. "Uh yeah. I can totally see how Thomas is cute and charming," he mumbled and rolled his eyes. "Not. But hey, uh, mind if I ask a question? Since you're a woman and all. I mean, you might be able to help."
Her eyebrows went up, surprised. "Um, sure, okay." She did her best to look supportive and informative. "What's up?"
Lucas shifted uncomfortably and ran his fingers through his ruffled hair - it clearly wasn't easy asking this question, but seemed he was so cornered he had to. "How do I know if a girl wants to be only friends or if I, you know, have a chance? I really don't want to screw it up if she only wants to be friends, you know."
With a question like that, Jazz couldn't help but wonder at the context - she'd thought he was dating Emma Brooks? - but told herself not to pry.
"Well, there are usually clues - does she make the best of opportunties to get close to you? For example, if you're watching TV or a movie, does she cuddle up, or lean on the other end of the couch? Or, when you're talking, does she keep her body turned toward you or just her face?"
Lucas blinked and thought about it for a while. "Oh man you girls are good at things like that. Lesbians must have it easy," he sighed. "Thanks. I'll try to pay attention to things like those." Then he glanced towards the door to his own room. "Okay, now I'll really get out before it's too late."
He smiled sheepishly, as if he was a little ashamed for having had to ask for advice, and then wandered off to his room to get his bag with all the things he would need. It didn't take him long, and soon enough he appeared again all ready to go.
"Have fun," he said and lifted the bag over his head to his shoulder before leaving.
"Good luck," she replied encouragingly. "And thanks again for the help."
"No problem, as long as you don't fill me in on how it went!" he grinned, waved with his hand, and finally left the apartment to leave Jazz alone for final preparations.
Unfortunately, there wasn't a whole lot left for Jazz to do. She double checked that the table was set with all the right silverware, found a lighter she could light the candles on the cake with and then...fretted. She kept checking the time and the box that held Tom's gift, thinking that with every minute that ticked by she was closer and closer to no turning back. It'd be too late now to try and go out and find something else to give him.
Sighing, she snapped the box shut and checked the time again.
It took almost an hour after Lucas's departure before the key finally turned in the lock of the front door, and Thomas stepped in. He was dressed in a silver-gray suit with a black shirt and shimmering black tie, which he loosened immediately when he stepped into the privacy of his own home. It was a hot day to be dressed in a suit, afterall, but he couldn't even think of appearing at work (even though the restaurant wasn't open yet) in anything else but a suit.
Jazz scrambled to get the candles lit and then hurried out into the hall, smoothing her dress needlessly before she stepped into view.
"Welcome home, birthday boy." She leaned up to give him a kiss. "I've been waiting for you."
Thomas blinked in surprise. "How did you know?" he asked obviously confused, and apparently did not remember mentioning it to her. Nevertheless his hands, as if on their own, found their way to her hips and a smile played on his lips when he glanced down to realize he had a nice view into the neckline of her dress.
She tipped her head, lips quirking in amusement as she slipped her hands under his jacket and smoothed them over his shoulders to help him take it off. “Breathing in too many cleaning product fumes at La Fee again, huh?” she teased. “You told me. In Barbados.”
"I did?" he smirked and pulled his arms back to help with taking off the jacket. "Good thing I did then, I'll have at least something to cheer me up today." With his arms free from the jacket he wrapped them around her to kiss her properly.
Blissfully distracted, she momentarily forgot why is was so important to get him into the kitchen...then it came back with a jolt and she nipped his lip playfully while she sought one of his hands with hers. "Come-" she turned to lead him toward the kitchen, "-before it melts."
Once inside she stepped aside and presented all Lucas and her hard work with a bright, "Ta-da!"
Dinner, couresty of Lucas - with as much help from her as she'd dared - and a custom made cake (on top of which a handful on candles flickered happily) from one of the best bakeries in the City.
It took him a while to understand what the candles were doing on top of his cigar box.
"Wh- what is - is that a cake?" he stammered and pointed at the fantastic cake on the table. "It looks just like my cigar box!" He turned to grin at Jazz. Even though his words were honest, he was still very taken by the fact that she would go through all the trouble to get such a thing for him, in such detail too. "Utterly tasteless and tacky. Where on Earth did you get that from?"
Jazz was about 98% sure that despite his choice in words he still liked it - but considering that she'd already been uncertain about his gift that 2% was uncomfortable. "A bakery here in the City that specializes in unique cakes for special occasions: birthdays, weddings, that sort of thing." Her arms folded. "No birthday's complete without a great cake."
He hugged her partly from behind, enclosing his arms over her folded arms, until his cheek was against hers. "I've never had a cigar box cake before. What, did you take photos of my cigar box or what?" he asked and admired over her shoulder how the little candle flames were lighting up the cake.
"I did take them a couple," she admitted with a little smile, letting herself lean back against him. "Just in case they had no idea what I was asking for. But apparently they'd made one for a groom's cake before, so they already had the basics, and I guess they just used them for the details."
She could feel his moist lips press against the side of her neck for a lingering kiss, and then another one on her ear before he mumbled on a low tone, "Thank you." He held her for a while, somehow happy to have someone who cared enough to do things like this in private and not just in front of dozens and dozens of people to show off to them. "Should I blow the candles? There isn't 37 of them though. Thank God."
She shook gently with a small laugh and nudged him with her cheek. "Of course. How else would you make your wish?" Not to mention the candle wax was slowing burning down onto the cake and as delicious as it was sure to be, somehow she doubted wax would do it any favors.
Jazz tipped her head back to look at him with a grin. "Want me to sing?"
"Oh no," he said quickly when he took his arms away. "Please, don't."
The cake was tacky enough as it is - he was that kind of a man who detested t-shirts with prints on them, and cakes made mostly out of frosting, like this one. However, his bonita was like a blind spot - he forgave her for many silly things she did, but singing was one step too far. He stepped past her and walked over to the table, then leaned down, inhaled deeply, and finally blew out the candles. It ended in a smoker's cough, but he did look satisfied with himself that he had managed to take them all out at once.
And Jazz clapped and whooped for him like any dutiful cheerleader, knowing full well it was idiotic, but enjoying herself anyway. "Look at that, all in one go even. I'm impressed." Belatedly she realized she should have taken a picture and made a mental note to snap one later.
No one would believe her otherwise.
"So what now?" she offered. "Your choice. Dinner, cake, gifts? None of the above? All three?"
"That's no choice at all," he said when he straightened back up. "All three! And I also want to find out if you really have the stockings I think I asked for. Now that you reminded me of Barbados I remembered that too, don't think I'm that old already."
She shot him smirk with mischievous hooded eyes. "Is that a lack of faith I'm sensing? I could never ignore so blatant a request." And to prove it (and because just imagining the way he'd look at her was enough to get her heart skipping) she saucily hitched the hem of her dress up along one thigh, offering him a teasing glimpse of one thigh-high, stocking just a shade lighter than her natural caramel skin-tone, and the racy little strap that clipped it to the delicate garter just above.
The look on his face was first full of anticipation, then this lips parted and his eybrows lifted in admiration, and finally he walked back to her with a wolfish smile spreading on his face.
"My, getting older isn't as bad as I thought it would be," he murmured with certain fire in his blue, and at the same time his hands stroke up along her thighs, feeling the slick texture of the stockings until the hem of her dress.
Jazz let him get away with it for a minute, tugging at her lower lip with her teeth when a muscle in her thigh trembled of its own accord beneath his hands, then she gave one of his knuckles a sassy flick with her forefinger and let the hem of her skirt fall neatly back into place as she chuckled.
“That’s dessert. Dinner first – I’d hate Lucas to think his hard work went to waste.”
Besides, she was hoping to use that as part distraction, make up, and apology in case her actual gift was off the mark.
He gave up and placed his hands around her waist instead. "Oh, so you got Lucas to help you? Alright," he nodded and stepped back to let her fuss around in the kitchen. "I am a little hungry anyway. What are we having?" he asked, mostly in order to get the right kind of wine bottle out.
As she had with the cake, Jazz happily presented dinner with a grand flourish as she moved it to the table.
Okay, so Lucas had done most of the work, but she’d helped! And it had been her idea to dig for Tom’s favorites.
“Salmon.” She took care to waft some of the rising scent his way. “With tomato and cheese sauce.” With her raised eyebrows and bright smile, she was obviously pleased and expectant, hoping he’d be delighted or at least approving.
"Ohh, smells delicious," he hummed smiling and stepped closer for just a moment to give her a small kiss. "And looks good too. I'll get a bottle of Semillon." He went to get it from the bar in the lounge, and returned quickly, already working on the cork to get it open. "And what exactly was your specific part in this dinner? Other than being the most alluring waitress I've ever seen."
"Cubing bread and chopping parsely," she replied, transferring the salmon steaks carefully from their pan and onto plates. "And sprinkling cheese." She dared to shoot him a smirk, trusting that she wouldn't loose the fish in the process. "And generally getting underfoot and driving Lucas crazy."
"I'm sure you were very talented at least in the last bit," Thomas chuckled shaking his head a little. He got two white wine glasses and finally poured some of the golden wine into them after setting the glasses on the table.
"So I take it you drove him out of here, as thanks for all his help?"
Jazz looked scandalized by the very thought. "Of course not." Then she smiled, sly and amused. "He scampered out of his own free will as soon as he could. The term 'ew' was thrown around." Everything else set, she returned to the other side of the room to scoop up the black box by the microwave then went to take her seat, smoothing her skirt neatly and crossing her legs elegantly as she waited for him to join her. "Personally, I think he's hoping you'll consider an empty apartment his gift."
"Empty apartment with you," Thomas corrected when he sat down to the table. He took his glass from the table and raised it to her. "That I can appreciate."
Jazz smiled lovingly and raised her glass to his. "Happy Birthday, Tom." And she set her box in view. "That's for you - when you want it."
"Really? I thought it was my duty to give you small boxes holding expensive things," he looked at her with one raised eyebrow, but smiled anyway. He tasted the wine, and then picked up the box to open it.
It wasn't really small, bigger than a ring box anyway, and that's because inside was a watch. Sturdy, weighted, fashioned from stainless steel and pvd-finished to gleaming black. The face was round, slightly raised, and a deep, dark blood red in color. The hands, sharp, slender shards of gleaming onyx, were ticking smoothly around. It was numberless, but at 12 a round, faceted button of onyx was set as a marker.
It was a good thing he hadn't shaken the box before opening it (as say Cleo would have done) because also in the box, floating loose were a pair of cufflinks to match the watch. Black, gleaming, and set with glittering garnet accents.
Jazz watched his face carefully, waiting. She maybe should have said something, but was afraid too. She didn't dare admit how much work she'd put into getting those gifts until she knew his reaction.
His eyebrows went up when he opened the box, and then back down, looking both curious and confused when he took the watch out and turned it around in his hands. He was looking for a familiar logo, some idea of what it was, what was its quality and how much had it cost. Turned out he was quickly at a loss.
"Wow, I've never seen one of these before," he admitted. "It's nice work, very stylish and a good finish on the metal too. Oh, and you found matching cufflinks too. Where on Earth did you find these?" he wondered, too curious to even say thank you before he found out just how thankful he ought to be.
She exhaled and admitted, "I didn't. They're mine." She picked up her fork for something to do with her hands. "I made them. Designed them. That, uh, conference I had to go to a couple weeks back was actually a designer's camp. Like a mini-training school."
"Y-you, you made this? This is your design?" he repeated, stupefied of what he had just heard. "Seriously? My bonita designed a watch and a pair of cufflinks that could be of any renowned designer's newest collection?" he went on, and as he did, it became clear how utterly surprised and impressed he was even if he was in disbelief.
Her lips trembled, apparently uncertain if she should smile or not, and she nodded. "I sketched them, selected the materials, fitted the stones....I put the watch together myself - every piece." She paused, hesitating. "They're mine, but they're yours. That is to say, they are the only ones. After I sketched them, I knew what I wanted to do with them, who I wanted them to be for. So they were never in a store, they were never sold, and they won't be. Even if Spencer does go on to let me design for Michaels Bros. Those-" she nodded toward the watch in his hand, "-are one of a kind. To you from me."
"You're going to have your very own collection? Going from stealing jewelry to making it?" he chuckled, still feeling it hard to believe. He reached over the table and took her hand gently. "Why haven't you told me before, that's fantastic news for you my bonita. And these? These are all the more special. Unique. I'm so proud of you, and that you made these for me. I'm especially proud to see that these actually are worth all my praise, they are extremely fine design," he commended glancing down at the watch and cufflinks.
Then he lifted her hand up to his face, gave her knuckles a kiss, and murmured, "Thank you."
Her face warmed, insides squirming in both pleasure and embarrassment. "You're welcome," she murmured back, a hint of relief in her voice. "And I didn't say anything because, well, who knows for sure how's gonna go? It-I, could bomb. And no one would have to know besides Spencer and I, and now you."
She paused for a moment, then smiled at him and gave the hand holding hers a squeeze. "But then again, I did manage to get the approval of the toughest critic I know...that's gotta be a good sign."
"Be sure to show me the rest of your designs, now that I'm in on the plot," he smiled and let her hand go. "Now, did you have more surprises coming to distract me further from dinner?"
Jazz tipped her head for a moment, then heaved a heavy mock sigh. "Unfortunately no. That's the bottom of my bag of tricks." She used her now freed hand to pick up her knife as well, going through the motions of getting ready to eat, but in truth for waiting for his reaction first. "For now anyway."
He had picked up his cutlery as well but glanced up at the last comment. "That's just not fair," he sighed and let his eyes lower down to admire her body. It was easy to guess what sort of surprises he hoped he would still get, but he did his best not to eat too quickly.
No gagging, no complaining,...Jazz took that as fine praise indeed and cut into her own dinner with a smirk. "And you just saw the stockings," she goaded teasingly.
"No, that was just evil teasing," he pointed out.
The dinner and full glasses of wine later, Thomas leaned back and wiped the corners of his mouth to a napkin.
"Ahh, that did good," he sighed looking satisfied. "Please tell me the cake is actually all frosting that no one likes to eat anyway and we can skip over it?" he grinned, lifting his eyebrows suggestively at her.
Jazz covered her mouth quickly she chewed, as soon as she swallowed though she couldn't contain her laugh. She leaned back in her chair as it bubbled up from her, sipping from her almost empty glass. "First, it's mostly fondant, with buttercream underneath. Though I think they said the cigars were made from chocolate." Her eyes twinkled at him. "Second, are you saying you don't like frosting? Everyone likes the frosting. That's the best part."
"Euch, I've heard that before," he shook his head and made a 'yuck' face, sticking his tongue out for a while. "It's just you Americans. Or just everyone else but me. You can have the frosting then, but I suppose I could help myself to sample those cigars..." he turned his head to take a look at the chocolate Cubans on it.
She finished her glass and put it back on the table as she shook her head. "I'll have your frosting and you can have my cigars," she shot him a sly, sideways look. "But don't come crying to me when you've missed out on all the fun."
"Ohhh, don't worry, I think I'll be having a lot of fun, with or without the frosting," he said, his voice low in his throat when his eyes were once again exploring somewhere lower than her face.
Did she hitch the hem of her dress higher on purpose? Or was it just the way she shifted?
Either way she smiled and raised her eyebrows. "Oh really? Tell me - what've you got planned then?" Her legs rocked slowly in what might have been an idle, innocent gesture. "We should see if they line up with mine."
"Well you see, I'm going to have an intimate one-on-one meeting with this young, up and coming designer. Did you see these fantastic pieces here?" he pointed at the watch and the cufflinks on the table. "Her work. They're unique, so I'm truly looking forward to rewarding her in the most pleasing manner I can."
"What a coinindence!" Jazz gasped, a slender hand going to her throat - the fingers of which slowly started trailing down over her skin along the delicate chain of the necklace she wore. "I'm meeting someone too: a very charming, stylish gentleman with a sexy accent. It's his birthday. I want to make it memorable."
"Indeed! What a lucky bloke," Thomas said and leaned closer. "Where exactly are you meeting him?"
"Oh, he's coming to get me," she replied, dark eyes falling and landing on his mouth as he leaned closer. "And I do hope he makes it soon...I've been thinking about him all day."
"He wouldn't be much of a gentleman if he kept a lady waiting, would he?" Thomas answered while he got out of his chair. He knelt down right away, beside her chair, pulled the chair further back from the table so he could then turn her in her seat to face him and pulled her to the edge of her seat, right against him so that he stood on his knees between her legs.
"What kind of things have been on your mind?" he asked, his voice low and a little husky. He looked up into her face and his hands kept climbing up along her thighs to the small of her back, getting ready to get a good hold of her and swoop her up.
Her hands found his arms wrapping around her and slid up, up over his shoulders so she could cup his face. One of her thumbs brushed against the corner of his mouth as she murmured back to him, voice lower and throaty, edged with eagerness. "He has the most beautiful mouth....And his hands - when he touches me, sometimes I think I might die it's so good."
While she spoke, he stretched his neck to reach to kiss her bare chest above the neckline of her dress, then her collarbones, the side of her throat, finally her chin and, when she finished, her lips. At the same time he pulled her slowly off the chair, and while they were kissing, he gently swooped her to his lap, and carefully stood up with her in his lap, ready to carry her to the bedroom.
Jazz's long limbs looped around him hungrily, a purred laugh bubbling up as her lips rushed along his face, trying all at once to be helpful and to linger over the heady taste of him. Her arms tightened, her heels hooked around his waist and she murmured heated words to him. Take me anywhere, she whispered. Anyway. With you is all I need to be.
Summary: It's Avery's birthday and Lucas and Jazz decide celebrations are in order whether Tom likes it or not. Lucas handles the cooking, asks Jazz for some relationship advice and then scoots so Jazz and Avery can discuss cake, gifts, and job opportunities. Faded to black before the smut gets out of hand. :)