116 - Justify My Love

Petey held up the flash drive with a frown.  “It’s still here.”  The biggest part of her wished that Daniel had found the damn thing under the guest room mattress and taken it with him.  Then he wouldn’t have a reason to bother them anymore.

“Good,” Jon approved.  He remained semi-confined to the couch, recuperating from the effects of the Taser after dismissing Rocco.  Replacement security teams would be stationed outside the building and in the lobby.  Rocco was being reserved for personal bodyguard assignment.

After a careful inspection of the insertion points in his chest, Petey found the area to be red and inflamed and swabbed it with antibiotic cream and added a bandage.  That left him sitting bare-chested on the edge of his seat, clearly annoyed that he didn’t have the resiliency to get up and do something.  She didn’t know how much Daniel had amped up the voltage on the weapon but, in her heart, she knew it was enough to be thankful Jon wasn’t dead.

“What do you mean, good?  He’s just going to keep after us until he gets it.  I was hoping it was gone so we could go on with our lives in peace.”

“I have to agree with Patience,” Teresa added from her seat in the chair.  She and Petey had quickly put the place to rights, seeing as they didn’t need to preserve the ‘crime scene’ for the police.  They wouldn’t be involving them in this for obvious reasons.  Subsequently, Petey and Jon invited her to stay the night so they could pore over the wedding details that had initially prompted her trip to New York.  “At least it would be over.  I feel guilty because I was half an hour late getting here.  If I'd been on time maybe this wouldn't have happened.”

"Stop it, Mom," Petey scolded.  "The only thing that would've accomplished is to get you in the line of fire, too."

“Petey's right and, just so you don't think you've distracted me, no scenario in which that…” He glanced at Petey’s mother, his features morphing into consternation.  “…moron wins is ‘good’.  Your research and hard work need to be implemented.  Tomorrow we find somebody to do that using your name and your original ideal, thereby screwing Daniel out of the opportunity to produce it for himself.”

"That isn't going to happen in a day.  The best I can hope for is to make some initial contacts tomorrow and get the ball rolling."

And, all that sounded just lovely, but it didn’t stop the flaccid fool from releasing that blasted pictures.  It almost seemed inevitable that they were going to hit the media.  Despite the morbid embarrassment she was about to suffer, her parents deserved the chance to brace themselves both personally and politically for the ramifications that could follow.

“And thereby pissing him off enough to use his blackmail material,” she sighed, dropping her butt on the couch beside him.  “I’m starting to think it’s inevitable, Jon.  Because of the delicate nature and John’s political agenda, my parents need to be told what could happen.”

A groan slipped out before he thought about it, and he briefly closed his eyes.  Not exactly what he’d thought would be on the agenda tonight with his future mother-in-law and potential future First Lady.  But, he reasoned with a wry twist of his lips, what brought a family closer together than kinky sex secrets?

Fuck.

“If that’s what you think is best, go ahead.”

Don’t mind me.  I’ll just sit here and squirm like a teenager who got caught going at it with his girlfriend in her parents’ bed.

“What are the two of you talking about?  What is it that Daniel has to hold over your head?”

Petey rubbed a hand over her face, smudging the bit of makeup that lingered after her bout of tears earlier.  “Well, Mom.  First of all, please remember that I’m way past the age of consent and that I’m not a lesbian.  Those things will help you see this in a better light.”

“And I’m model citizen.  That, too,” Jon tacked on dryly. 

“Oh for Heaven’s sake just spit it out,” Teresa huffed.  “He has compromising pictures, I assume?  Children, I’m not a stodgy old woman who is going to judge your sex-life.  Granted, I’d rather not know about it, but I’m not going to judge it.”

“They’re bondage pictures,” Petey muttered.  “Very intense bondage pictures.”

“Oh.” Jon watched the blood drain from Teresa’s face, then reverse course and rush to redden her cheeks.  “Whips and chains and the like?”

“Mother!” Petey cried with mortification, covering her eyes with one hand.  “Good Lord, no!  Just me… tied up while we…  Well, there are no accessories.  It was only us, but there is no mistaking our identities.”

“I see.”  The wheels where cranking furiously behind the wise brown eyes of Petey’s mother, and Jon watched with fascination, more than a bit curious to hear her assessment.  “Well, you are engaged and may even be married by the time they surface.  A happily married couple having sex is hardly news.”

He couldn’t prevent the smug grin from billowing out over his face.  “That’s what I told her!”

Teresa’s brow arched haughtily and, as the smug drained out of him like sap from a maple tree on a warm spring day, Jon idly wondered if she taught Petey that move.  “Oh?  I rather hope you told her you loved her and didn’t want to live another day without her.  You certainly didn’t choose the perfect engagement ring for my daughter and slip it on her hand in the name of media defense.  Because I would hate to be disappointed in someone I’ve previously spoken so well of, Mr. Bon Jovi.”

“Oh sweet Jesus,” his beautiful fiancée breathed with a roll of her eyes.  “Mother!  Retract your claws!  I assure you it has been firmly established that we are armpit deep in the throes of love.  We make Romeo and Juliet look like bickering trailer trash.  And in more important matters, what will this do to John’s campaign?”

“Patience, don’t take that tone with me.  It’s a mother’s prerogative to question the motives of the famous, yet kinky man who is marrying her daughter.”

Christ almighty, isn’t that just beautiful?  Can I have that etched on my tombstone?

He raised both palms in surrender, and offered himself up in the name of familial sacrifice.  “Petey, let her alone.  She’s entitled.  I’d be a helluva lot worse in her place.”

“That’s very kind of you.”  Teresa dipped her head graciously, but her voice was no more forgiving than satin sheathed titanium.  “Now tell me what I want to hear.”

He blithely wondered if there was any age at which a man didn’t have to defend himself to his prospective in-laws.

Only if you’re old enough for her parents to be dead.

Which was probably an accurate assessment.  He freely admitted that he'd have to be dead – or on life support – before any punk put a ring on Stephanie’s finger and he didn’t grill him within an inch of his life.  Jon should just be thankful Petey’s father wasn’t still with them.

“I’ve gone to great lengths ensuring Petey that this isn’t a whim and that my feelings for her are genuine.  I love her unwaveringly and unconditionally.  Period.  Anything beyond that is between the two of us and, respectfully, none of your business.”

Petey slumped back into the leather sofa cushions with a groan.  “Kill me now.  Please.”

“Oh, get over yourself Patience.”  Teresa’s lips curved into a begrudging smile.  “You’re a renowned engineer with an obscene amount of degrees, you’ve come up with groundbreaking research and development and, aside from that, you’ve led the most boring life in the history of the world.  I’m sure the press will be ecstatic to find out that you’re a real person and not one of those cyborg creatures that dominate science fiction movies nowadays.  Don’t give the campaign a second thought.”

Slowly lifting her head, Petey’s skeptical, “Really?” struck Jon as amusing.

He tucked his chin into his shoulder to look back at her with a cocked brow.  “Baby, you’re going to have me thinking your mama beat you as a child.  What did you expect her to say?”

“I don’t know,” she said crossly.  “Seems like a sex scandal should have more of an impact than that.”

His amusement escalated.  She was cute all bent out of shape and epically disappointed that it wasn’t a bigger deal.

“If it were John Kerry in the pictures, it might be, Sugar, but they’re pictures of his step-daughter and her fiancé.  In the grand scheme of things, I’m thinking it could be a whole lot worse.”

“I agree with Jon, darling.  We’re all adults who appreciate the privacy we have behind closed doors.  I’m more concerned Jon’s children.  When do I get to meet the new grandchildren you’re blessing me with?”

Petey hesitated, shooting Jon a guilty look and offering weakly, “They’ll be at the wedding Saturday.”

“Your mom should meet them before that, don’t you think?” he immediately prompted, doing his part to pick up the ball that had been carelessly dropped on their part.  “That was something that escaped our list of things to do Teresa, I’m sorry.  How about we all go to dinner Friday night?  Or brunch on Saturday morning?”

The older woman smiled demurely, indicating that dinner would be best since he wasn’t to see his bride before the wedding on Saturday. 

“Now, shall we get to the rest of the details?” she smoothly guided, reaching for a soft-sided leather attaché that she brought with her.  “Patience, I’ll assume you’ll want to go with pink, but the accent color should coordinate with your dress.  Have you chosen a dress yet?”

Smiling indulgently, he leaned back into the cushions next to Petey, and echoed the inquiry, realizing he hadn’t gotten to hear a thing about the Great Gaymother Gallivant.  “Yeah, did you find a dress today?”

“I did,” she confirmed with satisfaction, and his mood lightened at the twinkle of enchantment in her artificially pink eyes.  “The most perfect dress in the world for me, and I couldn’t be more pleased.  And…” she gave him a light poke in the arm.  “I got you, Gavin and Richie coordinating ties.  You just need to provide a black suit with a light pink shirt.  Do you have those?”

“The suit, sure, but pink’s not exactly my color.  I’ll call Ken Cole tomorrow about the shirt.  I’m sure he can hook me up.  But why did you get Richie a tie when he’s not coming?”

“Oh ye of little faith.”  Petey, fondly petted his hair, making a clucking noise with her tongue.  “He’ll be there.  And when he calls to let you know that he’s coming, tell him to bring a black suit and a black shirt.  I suspect he has both.”

Considering that Daniel was already classified as worm food in his mind, Richie’s absence was the dark cloud still hanging over their happy occasion.  Now wasn’t the time to let it drag the mood down, so he just grunted noncommittally.

“Patience, your dress?  Is it ivory or white?  I really hope it’s not white.”

Jon would bet good money it wasn’t, and bit the inside of his jaw, waiting to see what Petey would say.

“No, it’s not white.  I think black would be a nice accent color.  I like pink and black.  We can work with that, right?”

She did it.  She got a black wedding dress.

“You did not get a black wedding dress.”  Teresa’s denial was vehement, and she hadn’t phrased it in the form of a question.  It was practically a case of ordering the universe to comply with her demands.

“I will show you the dress later, Mom.”  Petey was just as vehement.  “Jon doesn’t need to know what it looks like yet, but I’m wearing a hat and I’ll need flowers for my hair.  What do you have chosen so far?”

The next hour was spent poring over centerpieces, a bridal bouquet, boutonnieres, cakes and reception menus.

“Jon, are you sure it’s okay for us to have the reception at Dorothea’s house, too?  The ceremony itself is probably an imposition, much less a reception afterward.”

Petey was worrying too much.  He reached over to rub an affectionate hand over her black denim encased thigh.  The muscular exhaustion was wearing off.  He didn’t know if he would manage actual sex tonight, but he wanted to feel her naked body against his, and run another blind study on her ‘always wet’ theory.

“Yes, Sugar, it’s fine.  I told her I would make sure the caterer’s would clear the formal living room and dining room, set up, tear down and restore everything to order.  When she’s tired of us, she and Tony can retreat to the privacy of the family wing.  It’s all good.”

“Excellent.”  Teresa tucked her notes and sample photos into the attaché and recapped.  “The menu will have both chicken and beef.  The cake will be four small,round tiers – pink champagne, Kahlua fudge, French vanilla and butter pecan – draped in pale pink fondant, covered with black lace, with a large black bow tied between the middle two tiers.  Centerpieces and the bridal bouquet will be blush pink roses and stargazer lilies accented with slim black feathers and crystals.  Patience, you want the flowers for your hair to be pink roses with fluffy pink feathers instead of black, and the same crystals.  That sound like everything so far?  What about a photographer?”

“I have a friend,” Jon supplied, surprised by the decidedly feminine touches Petey had selected.  So far he hadn’t heard anything too over-the-top.  Not a single skull had been mentioned.  “Bergman will do photos, both the private photos just for us and a couple for the press.”

Teresa nodded with satisfaction.  “Excellent.”

“Thank you so much for doing this, Mom.  Everything sounds perfect so far.  And, as I mentioned, I have the guys’ ties.  Jon’s is black with a pale pink paisley skull pattern.  Gavin and Richie’s are the inverse of that – pale pink with black paisley skulls.”  A  playful wink made its way toward him, and he returned it with a grin.  That was his girl.  “Now…”  She rose from her seat and nodded toward Teresa.  “I’ll show you the guest room and the dress, since that’s where it is.  You’re going to be astonished at how beautifully it’s all come together.”

With a tired grunt, he lifted his feet to rest on the edge of the coffee table and listened to her chattering, husky voice fade down the hall as he took inventory of his abused body.  He was still kinda numb in some places and felt like he had no bones in others, but it was getting better.  By morning, he would be good as new.

Which was good.

Tomorrow was going to be another busy day.  Honeymoon preparations were well underway, courtesy of Monique, and he had made the arrangements for her wedding gift, but the security concerns had multiplied.  He thought he might call Matty and see what kind of efforts he could rally.  If he couldn't find competent help, maybe sheer volume of security staff would count for something.

Jon sighed heavily and allowed his head to sink into the cushions. 

If Matty was brought into the circle about today's episode, Tony would have to be told as well.  He had no reason to believe Daniel would target his children, since he was looking for something specific, but it made Jon feel better to know Tony was there.  His brother loved the kids and would protect them almost as vigilantly as Jon would.

In the meantime, he had wedding stuff that still needed to be done.  He had to get rings, a marriage license, a pink shirt and pretend Richie was coming. 

Oh yeah, and kill the fucking putz that made me feel like road kill.

Reaching for the table, he grabbed his phone.  That one took priority.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

**In case you didn't catch it, there are links embedded so that you can see the cake, bouquet and groomsmen's ties. :)