ONE

FALL

Jon slumped against the back of the sleek leather couch, panting softly.  He grimaced involuntarily as a light spasm rolled through his middle, causing his muscles to clench and his limbs to tremble.  With a quiet groan Jon rested one moist hand on his bare abdomen while his other hand tightened around the warm plastic cup in his grip.

He let himself rest for a brief moment, his cloudy blue eyes slowly focusing on the images in front of him.  Taut, naked flesh gyrated in a carnal frenzy on the wide plasma screen.  Throaty sighs and lusty moans filled his ears, channeled through the headphones clamped over his unruly blonde shag. 

Jon regarded the porno for a long moment, then turned his gaze to the receptacle in his hand.  “We gotta stop meeting like this,” he mumbled at the plastic specimen cup, the corner of his mouth curling into a wry smirk. 

He snorted at his stupid humor as he carefully rested the cup on the smooth leather-covered cushion before picking up with the same hand the green plastic lid that lay nearby.  Jon daintily placed the lid on the cup and gave it a slow turn, feeling the grooves on the rim of the cup catch their mates on the plastic cap.

Confident that the specimen cup was now semi-securely covered, Jon again picked it up and leaned to set it on the small glass-topped table at the couch’s side.  With another weary groan he settled back into his slouch, staring for another long minute at the television before reaching up to yank the headphones from his ears.  Jon tossed the headset aside and blew out a long breath.

Turning his head to again glance at the cup, Jon gave himself a mental prod.  He knew the drill; time was a factor.  He couldn’t sit here all morning and bask in the afterglow of his self-pleasure.  On the other side of the wall a lab tech waited to analyze the product of his morning’s exertion.

Sighing heavily, Jon heaved himself forward to sit upright on the edge of the sofa.  He pulled a handful of paper towels from the dispenser at his feet and crumpled them in his hand before swiping them over his lap, dabbing away the majority of the stickiness.  Then he stood and shuffled the few steps over to the small sink, his t-shirt drifting down over his stomach and his unfastened jeans sliding a little further down his thighs as he moved. 

Jon stuffed the soiled paper towels into the trash can and turned on the tap, then reached for a handful of fresh towels.  Those he dipped under the water and squeezed out before applying them to his groin.  Jon carefully cleaned and dried himself before zipping, snapping, and buckling himself back into proper order.  Finally, he scrubbed his hands with soap and water, then dragged his moist palms across his stubbly cheeks.  He stared at his reflection in the mirror for a long moment before continuing the ritual.

Hygiene taken care of, Jon stepped back over to the small table and picked up the specimen cup.  He tightened the lid, then double-checked the patient number inscribed on the cup’s lid and label.  Jon smirked at the irony; in this facility his status and money and fame didn’t mean a damned thing.  In this place, he was literally just a number.

Jon carried the cup across the room and set it on the wide ledge under the small frosted-glass sliding window.  He jabbed his finger against the square button next to the glass and waited.  He knew he didn’t have to interact with the people on the other side of the window; this clinic had strict anonymity procedures in place for those who wished to exercise them.  But for some reason they didn’t suit Jon, even though anonymity was one thing he frequently craved.  Ever since he had started coming to this place he felt a need to interact with somebody here. 

The familiar voice floated through the intercom.  “Thank you, Mr. B.”

“Pleasure is all mine, Doris.  As usual.”  Jon chuckled quietly at his pun, waiting for the nurse practitioner’s usual cheeky reply.

“Well, we aim to please.  All we ask is that you aim too, please.”

“Mission accomplished, Doris.  All clear in here.”  Jon grinned as he stepped away from the window.  His gaze turned back to the television where the now-silent orgy continued in high definition.  “No offense, Darlin’… but hope this is our last meeting.”

“None taken, Mr. B.  Same here.”

The warmth in the nurse’s reply made Jon’s smile soften.  “Thanks.  Fingers crossed, okay?”

“You got it.  Have a nice afternoon.”

“You too, Doris.”

Jon strode past the television, pausing to lift his jacket from the hook next to the door before pulling it open and stepping out into the hallway.  He squinted against the bright artificial light as he slipped his arms into the leather sleeves, then reached into the pocket for his sunglasses.  Unlike the room he had just exited, there was no need for mood lighting in this part of the clinic.

Slipping his shades over his eyes and tugging his black cap down over his hair, Jon exited the suite.  He slipped into the elevator car in the lobby and stood silent as it descended to ground floor.  As he strode across the lobby Jon pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, tapping the speed-dial button while he pushed through the revolving glass door into the bright morning sunshine.

*****

Cate’s phone vibrated on her desk four times before she reached for it.  Her eyes never left her computer’s screen as she felt across the stacks of papers, searching for the little electronic gadget she knew was there.  Finally she located it and pulled it to her ear, her thumb automatically brushing across the answer button.

“Hey, Baby.  I was just thinking of you.”

Cate chuckled at Jon’s greeting as she continued to scan the text on her monitor.  “That so?”

“Mmm hmm. ”

“What were you thinking about me?”  Cate replied distractedly as she clicked her mouse to scroll the document down the screen.  She knew the paragraph she was looking for was somewhere in this convoluted affidavit…

“The ususal.  Dirty, filthy stuff. ”  Jon’s voice dropped to a husky purr.  “Naked stuff.”

Cate smirked quizzically at her husband’s playful admission.  “And you called to tell me that why, exactly?”  AHA!  Just as she finished the question her eyes settled on the piece of information she was looking for.  Cate hastily maneuvered her computer mouse to highlight and copy the passage, then drag it to another window on her display.

“Because, Cate.  You told me this morning to call you when I was done.”

No longer distracted by her work, Cate sat back in her chair.  Her brow furrowed as she thought back through the morning’s events.    She didn’t recall telling her husband to call her at all, let alone after he finished some task.

“Oh.  Umm…”  Cate cringed at Jon’s heavy sigh. 

“I just left the clinic, Cate.  The tests?  Remember?”

Cate closed her eyes and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead, grimacing slightly at the welcome pressure.  “Of course.  Sorry, Babe.  I’m just up to my ass in alligators on this case…” 

She let her hand fall heavily onto her lap as she sighed tiredly.  Her long-lashed blue eyes fluttered open, her gaze sliding to the framed photograph on the corner of her desk.  Cate smiled gently at the image of her handsome husband. 

“So it went okay?”

“Yeah, as well as jacking off into a plastic cup can go.  By yourself, anyway.”

Cate giggled quietly at Jon’s wry reply.  “Well, at least you get to have a little fun when you go to the clinic.  I just have to lay there and stare at the ceiling.”

“True.  But seriously, as much as we pay that place, they could invest in some better porn.”

The throaty chuckle in her ear warmed Cate’s heart.  Even so, her smile faded as she sighed softly.  “Jon, I’m sorry.  I know this is a pain in the ass, to have to do all these tests, but…”

Jon cut her off.  “Baby, it’s okay.  We’re in this together, remember?”

“I know.  It’s just…”  A lump formed in Cate’s throat as her words trailed away.  She swallowed hard. 

“It’s just you didn’t expect it to take this long,” Jon finished for her, his voice gentler.  “Neither did I.”

Cate nodded silently and looked down at her hand on her lap.  The gold band on her ring finger shone softly in fluorescent government-office light.  “I’ll try not to be too late tonight.  Hopefully Jane can get me right in and out.”

“Want me to meet you there?”

Another weary sigh escaped from Cate’s lips as again she looked up at Jon’s photo.  “Nah.  There’s nothing for you to do but sit in the waiting room anyway.”

“I’m cool with that.  And then we could go out for a bite after?”  Jon couldn’t hide the note of concern in his voice, even through his best persuasive sexy croon.

His attempt made Cate smile.  “Thanks, but no.  I’d rather just get this over with and come home and curl up on the couch.  It’s been a long day already.”  Her mouth twisted into a wry smirk.  “Besides, I’m used to getting dinner before ending up on my back with my legs spread and my feet in the air.”

“Oh, so that’s how it’s supposed to work?  Hmm.  All these years, I’ve been doing it wrong.”

Cate snorted a giggle.  “Yeah, it’s always been way too easy for you, Rock Star.  Just prance around in those tight pants and sing ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ and girls lose their panties left and right.  No dinner dates required.”

“Nah, that’s Sambora.”

Cate laughed softly at Jon’s reply to her tease, grateful for his attempt to lighten her mood.  “Oh, okay.  If you say so,” she gently chided.  “But anyway… I really would rather just do this on my own.  ‘Kay?”

“Okay.  Call me when you’re done and I’ll order us a pizza or something.”

“Deal.”

“Love you, Baby.   Don’t work too hard.”

“Love you too.  See you tonight.”

Jon frowned as he lowered the phone from his ear and tapped the screen.  Though his conversation with Cate had been upbeat, he couldn’t get past the weariness in her tone.  His brow furrowed with concern as he raised an arm to hail a cab.  Miraculously, in just a matter of seconds a yellow taxi pulled to the curb.

Jon settled into the back seat and gave the cabbie his destination, then turned his gaze to the window.  He didn’t see the passing scenery as his mind replayed the telephone conversation.  Instead he envisioned Cate at her paper-piled desk, slouched in her chair as she held her phone to her ear.  Even in his imagination she looked tired.

He knew Cate was deep into a major case, though she of course wouldn’t tell him any details.  She had been working long hours at her office, in the field, and even at home.  Hardly a night had passed over the last month when she hadn’t locked herself away in the office with her files and laptop.  She even read through binders of reports and legal documents during her early-morning workouts on the treadmill or elliptical machine in their apartment.  Cate was fully immersed in this case, whatever it was.

Jon had been married to a criminal investigator long enough to understand the demands of the job.  There were times when a case had to be at the top of Cate’s priority list.  He didn’t necessarily like it when that happened, but he understood.  After all, there were times when his own career had to take precedence over other parts of his life, and his family’s.  That was the Price of Success.  In Cate’s case, it was often the Price of Justice.

But this time was different.  Jon had gleaned enough details through casual conversation with his wife and her colleagues to know that this investigation was still in the “follow-the-money trail” phase.  There were no imminent searches or arrests or prosecutions, at least as far as he could tell.  Cate hadn’t even traveled out of town on temporary duty yet, which usually happened as the moment of action neared.  It seemed to be business as usual for the Manhattan Field Office.

And that was the cause of Jon’s concern.  Cate’s immersion in her work seemed to be self-induced.   It was as if she was trying to occupy her mind and her time with things she could control, so she didn’t dwell on the things she couldn’t.

Like her body.

Jon understood perfectly.  Because she was just like him.

Shaking himself from his reflection, Jon turned his face forward.  He peered ahead through the cab’s windshield at the slow-moving traffic clogging the avenue.  Dammit.  If there was one thing predictable about Midtown traffic it was that it would be snarled at precisely the time you were trying to get from one place to another on a timetable.

“Hey, you can just drop me here.”  Not bothering to look at the taxi’s meter, Jon pulled a couple bills from his wallet and waved them at the driver.  “Change of plans.”

With an indifferent shrug the cabbie turned the wheel to steer the car toward the curb.  His unplanned movement caused a chorus of angry horn blasts from the traffic behind.  The protest was lost on the cab driver, who waited silently as his passenger exited the back seat of his car.  He accepted the bills from the blonde man with a nonchalant nod, not bothering to offer a “thank you.”  Then he pulled back into traffic, off in search of his next fare.

Jon turned away from the curb, fixing his gaze on the iconic marble-fronted building down the block.  He did have an appointment to keep, but he didn’t mind keeping the suits waiting for a few extra minutes.  First he wanted to take care of a personal errand, one that had just occurred to him.  One that was more important than lawyers and accountants.

Tonight he needed to see her smile.