Title: The Favor
Author: Rimau
Email address: rimaufic@yahoo.co.uk
Rating: R
Fandom: Profiler
Pairing: John/George
Date: Nov 23 1998 (revised March 2000)
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue.
Summary: John needs George's help to get Frances off his back.
Author's webpage: http://www.rimau.aeglos.org/
This story is set right after 'Jack be nimble, Jack be quick'. If you haven't seen it yet, don't worry. You'll get enough clues from the dialogue to understand this little story.
If naughty words offend you, back off! All you Frannie fans, same to you too. The rest of you, enjoy!
Thanks go once again to my alpha reader Riikka. Yes, she's a smug pest, but I love her anyway…
The Favor by: Rimau
Sam looked aghast. "You want me to do what? No, John. No way in hell."
John Grant rubbed his temples. "Sorry, Sam. I had to ask. To be honest, I'm at my wits end here. I thought that if she saw you with me, she'd leave me alone."
"It wouldn't work. If Frances sees you in bed with another woman, she'll see her as a rival and will compete for you. She won't back off, she'll just try harder."
"Damn. Are you sure?"
She smiled. "I've been studying human psychology for years. Trust me, it wouldn't work."
John groaned. "Oh, fuck Sorry. It's just that I don't want to hurt her and talking isn't working! And the last thing I want to do is go to Bailey. It would break his heart."
"I'm sorry, John. Maybe…"
"Wait!" He held up a hand. "I think I have an idea!"
"You want me to what?"
Sam chuckled. "My words exactly."
George shook his head. "I don't understand. Why me?"
"You're someone she can't compete with. She'll fall back and finally leave me alone!" John got to his feet and began to pace around the room. "Do you have any idea how frustrating this situation is? It's been going on for almost a week now. She'll come to my house, half-dressed and throws herself at me. If I don't open the door, she picks the lock! And yesterday she came by so late I was already in bed and she crawled in beside me! I didn't even hear her coming in!"
George tried to hide his smile at the horrified note on the cop's voice and coughed. "Why me?"
"A good explanation or the truth?"
"The truth. If I don't like it, you can tell me a suitable story later."
"I'm glad you find this entertaining." John grimaced. "Frankly, you're the only man I know who wouldn't punch me in the face if I asked."
"I appreciate your honesty."
Sam looked concerned. "George. It's all right to refuse. You don't have to do this." She tried to think of something that would give him an easy way out. "At least talk to Rich and..."
George's face was stony. "He's no longer a part of my agenda!"
An awkward silence fell over the room. Sam and John looked everywhere but at George.
"Fine. I'll go along."
John looked up, relief plainly written on his face. "You will?"
George smiled wryly. "Yes, but you'll owe me a big one." His face sobered. "Seriously, though, this is for Bailey. He's a good man and I don't want him to get hurt."
"Amen to that." Sam pulled out a notebook. "Now, about the details..."
John glanced at his watch for the fifth time in two minutes. He realized he was pacing again and sat down on the sofa, forcing himself to calm down. He’d been waiting for his friend to arrive for over twenty minutes and was getting more nervous every minute.
A knock on the door made him jump. At least he knew that this time it wouldn’t be Frances. Sam would have called him if the girl had left home. "Coming," he yelled as he hurried to let his friend in. "You're late!"
George handed him his coat and shrugged. "There was some kind of an accident on the freeway and the traffic was jammed. Once again." They descended the few stairs to the living room area. "Anyway, you said she never comes before ten."
John sat down and sighed. "Sorry. I guess I'm a bit edgy because of all this. I haven’t slept very well lately."
There was an awkward silence.
"John..."
"George..."
They both laughed and then John gestured with his hand. "Go on."
George took a deep breath. "I've been thinking. Are you sure you want to do this?" John opened his mouth to reply and the civilian shook his head. "No, let me finish. What if Frances mentions this to someone? To Bailey? What about tomorrow, at work? I don't want this to cause any tension between us at the office. Have you thought of that?"
The younger man shook his head. "I don't think she'll talk about this to anyone. I mean, to her this will be an enormous shock. To throw herself at a man who's interested in men. That's not something a teenager would like to advertise."
"What about the rest of it?"
"I can handle it."
"John..." There was a warning note in George's voice.
"I mean it. Whatever happens tonight, it won't change the fact that we're colleagues. And friends," he added firmly.
The ringing phone startled them both. John grabbed the receiver. "Grant... Yes, he's here... Yes…Are you sure? All right... Thanks Sam, I'll let you know what happens... All right, in the morning then. Night." He turned to George. "That was Sam. She saw Frances sneaking out of the house a moment ago. We have about twenty minutes until she gets here."
George nodded. "I guess we have some work to do then."
"Yeah."
"First of all, we have to decide where we should do it. Then I think we should decorate a little."
"Decorate?" John sounded confused.
The older man sighed. "Like put two glasses and a bottle of wine here on the table. Something to make this seem more real, like we were having a romantic evening and then went to bed."
John swallowed. "Okay, I'll get some glasses."
"John."
"What?"
"You forgot thing number one. Where do you want to do this?"
The young man swallowed again. "What do you think?"
George thought for a moment. "The sofa is a good option. She'll see us right when she gets in and this whole thing will be over quickly. On the other hand, if we go to your bedroom, the shock element will be greater. And we can make it seem more real by decorating some more, like laying a path of clothes heading to bed…"
John raised a hand. "Okay, okay. I get the picture. So the bedroom it is." He walked to the kitchen and returned with two glasses and a bottle of red wine. He put them on the table.
"Maybe you should open the bottle." George said gently. "And pour some of it to the glasses."
John blinked. "Oh, right." He finished the setting. "What do you say?"
"Looks perfect. How much time do we have?"
"About fifteen minutes. At least. I mean that she might not come straight here and even if she does, the traffic may slow her down and..." John knew he was babbling, but he couldn't help it.
George shook his head. "You know you can still call this whole thing off."
"And what? Call Bailey and ask him to come and get his precious little girl away from my home? From my bed? I don't think so! I have more than enough trouble in my life now, with this thing with Jack and Bailey offering a job to Payton. This is the best way to get rid of this mess with Frances quickly. I'm not backing off now."
"All right. Let's get ready."
John walked past him and gestured to the bedroom door. "Should we leave the door open, or closed?"
"Almost closed. That way she can choose whether to tiptoe out of here or to confront you." George began to unbutton his shirt. "Take off your shoes and leave them there, in the middle of the room. Good, now the socks." He finished with the buttons, pulled his shirt off and tossed it to a chair.
John stood still next to his shoes, watching George walk to the bed. The older man pulled the comforter to the side and removed his shoes. Then he began to open his belt.
George raised an eyebrow. "Are you just going to stand there and watch?"
"What? Um, yes. I mean no." John clamped his mouth shut and pulled his shirt off. He let it slip into the floor.
"Perfect. Now come here."
John obeyed without a word, keeping his eyes cast down.
George finished with his belt and swiftly peeled his pants off. He sat on the bed. "I don't think we should undress any farther. We'll just pull the sheets up like they do in all the soap operas." John didn't react to his joke. "John? Your pants."
The cop moved slowly his hands to his waist. After a few seconds of fumbling with the belt buckle, he raised his gaze from his shaking hands to George's worried eyes. "I... I'm..."
George stood up. "It's all right. I understand." He reached out for his clothes.
John's hand stopped him. "No, wait! " The younger man took a deep breath and removed his belt. Then he unzipped his pants and pushed them down. He sat on the bed and wrapped his arms around his chest.
George sat next to him. "Now what?"
"You're the expert, you tell me." John sounded panicky. "I've never been in this kind of a situation before. With a man, I mean..."
"I know what you mean. Calm down." George sighed. "Maybe this isn't such a..."
"No! Don't question this now. I'm just a little nervous, all right? I really need to do this."
"Then forget who I am. Try to think you're with someone you really care for. Someone you want to make love with. Now, you're both undressed, sitting on your bed. What happens next?"
John bit his lip and then tentatively put his hand to George's shoulder. When the older man just smiled, he slid the hand to the nape of his neck. "Help me with this, please."
George raised a hand to his cheek. "What do you want me to do?"
"Anything," John whispered. "This has to look real, and you have to do it. I'm too..." He couldn't say it. He was scared, and he didn't know why. He didn't feel embarrassed or disgusted of George's touch or his lack of clothing. A little voice in his mind whispered, 'Maybe it's the thought that you'll enjoy this scares you the most!' That made him shiver.
George's eyes were full of understanding. "Lie down on your back. "John complied and he stretched out to lie next to him, pulling the sheets up to their waists. "You said she got in on her own and you didn't even hear her last night, right?" After seeing John nod, he continued. "That means we can't just wait here until she gets in. She'll have to 'catch us' doing this. So, try to act as naturally as you can, you can touch me freely, make noises if you feel like it, anything. Whatever feels comfortable." He brushed John's short hair at the temples. The cop closed his eyes and sighed. "I'll just touch your face for a while, okay?"
John nodded again and then felt George's fingers run down his face. The touch was very soft, very gentle and he began to relax a little. George's next words brought back the tension, though.
"May I kiss you?" George saw John's eyes fly open.
The younger man stared him for a moment, trying to decide whether to run or scream 'yes'. Finally he licked his lips nervously. "Don't ask, just do it. Do whatever you think is necessary."
George leaned closer, trying not to let the pain show on his face. 'Whatever is necessary! This is not a dream come true, remember that! This is not real. Not real...’ He lowered his head and touched John's lips with his.
The first kiss was soft, almost brotherly. George pulled back a little and then, to his surprise, he felt John's hand on his neck, pulling him closer. 'Caution can go to hell,' flashed through his mind as he closed his eyes and let all the desire he felt for the younger man flow into that kiss.
"You're one hell of a kisser." John sounded a little choked.
"You're not that bad either."
There was laughter in John's eyes. "Not bad?"
George kissed him again, relieved that the young man was all right with this. "No, definitely not bad at all." He slid his arms around John's torso and nuzzled his way down his neck. He made sure his hands stayed on the other man's back and a way above the waistline. He nibbled the cop's shoulder and then bit down. Not hard, but enough to leave a mark. He heard John yelp and then kissed the spot he’d bitten.
John didn't know what to think anymore. George's touch and kisses felt nice. More than nice. He had planned to leave all the work to the older man, but now his hands were moving of their own volition. He ran his hands down George's sides and then raised them to his chest to caress, not to push away. He brushed one nipple with his fingers and heard a gasp. "Is this all right?"
The small, rational part of George's mind screamed him to say 'no', to get up immediately and leave. Unfortunately that part of his mind wasn't in charge anymore. "Yes. John, please..."
John couldn't help a smug smile spreading to his face and then buried it to George's neck. He felt giddy, all nervousness had vanished. The man's skin tasted nice, a little sweaty, just a hint of his aftershave, and the words spilled out before he could think. "You taste good."
George shuddered. Then he moved a little lower and closed his mouth around John's left nipple.
The younger man arched his back and moaned. George circled the nipple with his tongue and then nipped it lightly with his teeth. "You too. Delicious." His leg slid between John's and the younger man groaned.
"George…" The rest was muffled by a kiss.
"What the hell is going on here?" The shocked voice startled them both. John turned his head and saw Frances standing at the doorway. George scrambled off him and pulled the sheet up to his neck.
"What is she doing here, John?" There was real confusion in George's voice. For just a moment he had let himself forget the true reason for all this.
John just stared at her.
Frances swallowed. Her face was white and her eyes felt so huge she thought they'd pop out any minute now. At least then she wouldn't have to see the man of his dreams, lips swollen and bitemarks on his skin, in bed with another man. "You... You and George? Is that the reason you didn’t want me" A tear fell down her cheek. "I'm sorry. I should leave now. Sorry." She turned around and ran off. A moment later the front door opened and then was slammed shut.
John sighed. "I guess she won't be coming here anymore." He shook his head. "I hope she'll be all right. She...What are you doing?"
George had gotten up and was now pulling his pants on. "My job here is done, I'm going home." He stood with his back turned to John and reached for his shirt. He pulled it on, realized it was inside out and yanked it off again.
"Have I offended you somehow?" John knew he should just let George leave, but somehow he couldn't.
John's quiet words stilled George's frantic movements. He sighed. "No. Everything is fine. I just want to go home now." 'To my own bed. My own, big, lonely bed...' He heard John get up and then felt a hand on his shoulder.
"George..."
"Don't touch me!" He flinched away from the touch and his shirt slipped off his trembling hands back to the chair.
John's temper flared. He grabbed George's upper arms and turned him around. "What the hell is the matter with you?" He looked at his friend's face. The older man didn't look angry. If anything, he looked like he was in pain. "George? Are you all right?"
"Please let go of me. I'm fine. I just need to get out of here." The words were a desperate whisper.
John looked puzzled. "Why? I thought you were cool with this." His eyes raked George's body. "I..." His gaze met the bulge in George's pants. "Oh!"
George closed his eyes. "Yes. 'Oh'. Now will you please let go of me?" The hands remained on his shoulders. "John?" He opened his eyes. The cop was looking at him with a strange expression on his face.
"I'm sorry. I didn't think of how this would affect you. How stupid of me." He let go of George and sank to the chair. Right on top of his friend's shirt. He lowered his face to his hands. "This is so like me! I try not to hurt Frances or Bailey and I end up hurting you!"
George sighed. "You didn't hurt me. The only thing that would hurt me now is if you start to feel guilty or embarrassed. This situation isn't worth losing a friend."
John raised his gaze to George's face. "I'm not embarrassed or offended or anything." His voice was calm, earnest. "It's all right. Friend."
"Thank you," George breathed and smiled. He saw John grin back at him and felt his face turn hot. 'Damn. I'm not blushing here. I'm not blushing!' He saw mirth in John's eyes and lowered his gaze. To the teethmark on the younger man's shoulder. The place he had nibbled, bitten, kissed. Tasted the warm skin... 'No! Don't go there!' He cleared his throat. "You're sitting on my shirt."
John noticed how his friend's breathing had quickened and got up slowly. He watched George's throat move as the man swallowed and then bent down to retrieve his shirt. Then the view was blocked by the shirt's collar. John didn't even realize he had moved his hand and was a little amazed to see his fingers push the collar aside.
George's eyes widened. "What are you doing?" The fingers brushed his neck and he moaned. "John! Do you understand what you're doing?"
John knew he should remove his hand and apologize. "I don't know anything anymore. Except that I want to touch you. I like the way you feel."
"Don't do this. Please, don't. I can't…"
"Can't what?"
George's voice was desperate now. "I can't pretend that I don’t want you. If you keep touching me; I can't stop this. I can't just walk away..."
John's hand stilled. "Then don't."
"Why are you doing this?"
'I have no idea!' "Does it matter? I can see you want this and so do I."
George gathered every ounce of his willpower for one more attempt. "You want this?" It was a miracle he could get so much coldness in his voice when his body was on fire. "You've never been with a man, you said that yourself. You have no idea what you want. Or what I want. You just want to jump head first into this without even understanding the consequences."
John's voice was throaty. "I understand them quite clearly."
'That arrogant bastard.' "Really? You want this? And this?" He deliberately moved his hand to John's groin. The younger man's eyes darkened and George took a deep breath, waiting to feel the fist hit his jaw.
John grasped his neck and ground his hips to his hand . George felt the cop's erection harden and knew he was lost.
John stretched and smiled as he felt the warm body curled next to him. He reached out and caressed the soft skin, trying to remember a name to whisper to his bedpartner. "Ge..." He swallowed, remembering what had happened last night. Oh, yes, the ruse to get Frances off his back. And now he was on his back. In bed, with his friend. With George. He raised his hand to his face and rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out what to do next. He hated the 'morning after'-scene. He felt always so awkward, not knowing what to say, how to say it and most of all, how he felt.
He took a deep breath. Rationally thinking, he knew they had both wanted to share one night together. Both were consenting adults. It didn't have to change anything, good friends had sexual relationships all the time. It didn't mean anything, right?
John grimaced, recognizing his thoughts as self-deception. He had been the instigator, the aggressor last night. He had insisted that George stay. All the macho-cop bullshit set aside, he had really enjoyed every minute of his time together with George. And he wouldn't mind having sex with him again. Shit, he wanted to do it again.
How the hell did he say that to George? 'I'd like to have,,,' No, too crass. 'Could we make love tonight? Or maybe tomorrow?' Make love? Didn't that suggest that there were tender feelings involved? Were there? He shook his head, totally confused.
'Next I'll be buying him red roses and quoting bad poetry, and I've never done that to a woman. I wonder if he would like that... I must be insane. Fuck, I'm gonna lose my job. Lunatics have no place in the bureau.' His mouth quirked into a little smile. 'I wonder what Sam would say? And Bailey?' He shook with barely contained mirth and then sobered. His colleagues would never find out, or need to know about anything that went on between him and a civilian employee. Unless there was really something serious going on...
Ah, the 'S'-word. Wonderful. After one night, he was contemplating a future with George? A relationship? He winced. What next? The 'L'- word? And then he'd really be ready to go straight to the funny farm.
He felt George move restlessly and then the older man stretched, pulling the sheet off his naked body. The cop felt his stomach start to itch, and moved his hand to his abdomen. There was something dried there, and then he realized that since he had just promptly fallen asleep after having sex with George, he was now virtually covered with dried semen. How could he have missed that? He must look disgusting!
George blinked a few times and then sighed. "Morning, John." When he didn't get an answer, he turned to look at the younger man. The horrified look on John's face didn't surprise him, though it was a bit of an disappointment. He had hoped that maybe... 'You fool. Be grateful for the brief moment you had.' He saw that John had noticed that he was watching him and the cop blushed furiously. "John..."
The younger man scrambled off the bed. "I...I need to take a shower." Then he scurried to the bathroom.
George sighed again.
John stared at the mirror, feeling the heat spreading to his neck. He looked even worse than he had imagined. He stepped into the shower stall and after adjusting the water temperature, he felt the soft spray hit his chest, caressing him. He smiled, remembering George's hands, sliding ever so gently across his chest, fingers circling his nipples, moving lower... He leaned against the cold tiles and closed his eyes. Yes, he could remember every touch, every caress.
It had been... tender. Burning passion combined with the softest of touches. He had never realized that being with a man could be so sweet and gentle. Nothing like he had expected. What he had thought it would be like...
His face burned hot again as he remembered rolling onto his stomach, writhing in ecstasy, practically begging for more, and then feeling George's hands turning him face up again. The older man's gaze had been absolutely smoldering as he had covered John's body with his own, undulating against him, muffling his cries of pleasure with his mouth.
And he had cried. Begged, whimpered, demanded and finally wailed like a lost soul as he felt his climax rush through him. Shuddering after his orgasm, seeing George's eyes glaze as he came, and then feeling him collapse on top of him, fully sated.
John shook his head, trying to focus on the present and reached for the soap. His body had enjoyed his little stroll down the memory lane and spreading the lather only intensified his arousal. He looked down at his erection and chuckled. Jerking off in a shower while one's lover waited outside would hardly be considered polite. He turned the water temperature down and quickly rinsed his body. He was shivering when he grabbed a towel and dried himself.
He frowned as he walked out of the bathroom, finding his apartment oddly quiet. He saw that George's clothes were gone and after scanning his empty bedroom he spotted a piece of paper on his pillow. He picked it up and read it.
'I decided to leave, since you obviously can't stand the sight of me. I won't apologize for last night, but I'm sorry if I hurt you somehow. We're both professionals. Let's try to remember that at the office.
George.'
"Oh shit!"
George walked out of the elevator. He nodded to a few people and then headed to the command center, to his usual place . Sam was talking with Bailey and George was glad to see the beatific smile on their boss' face.
"…last night. She didn't tell me what had upset her, but we did talk. For hours. And I mean really talked. I think everything will be all right now."
Sam smiled. "I'm glad. For both of you."
George sat down. At least last night had caused something good to happen. That knowledge made it all almost worth the pain he was feeling. Almost. He browsed through some papers and then checked his e-mail. As he had expected, there were no messages. He realized he was just trying to do something to get his mind off of what had happened last night. And what might happen when…
"Morning." John's cheery voice came from the door.
Sam and Bailey nodded at him. George tried to slouch even lower behind his computer, refusing to look at the cop.
"Is something wrong, George?"
"What?" George looked at Bailey's worried eyes.
"I asked if there is something wrong with you. You look awfully pale."
George tried to smile, not realizing it looked much more like a grimace. "No, I'm fine."
Sam turned from George to John, noticing the younger man's relaxed demeanor, and then back to George. She tilted her head to the side. "Bailey, would you mind excusing us for a minute? I need to talk to these two alone."
Bailey looked curious but just nodded and got up, muttering to himself, "I thought I was in charge here..."
As soon as he was out of hearing range, Sam shook her head. "I told you two it wasn't a good idea. What happened?"
"It worked. Frances won't be bothering me again." John's tone was light.
"I already heard that from Bailey." Both men stared at her and she sighed. "He told me that something shocking had happened to her last evening and that she was finally opening up. Now, I want to know what happened between you two."
George stared at his hands. "Nothing important happened. We just..."
"...had a little misunderstanding I'm going to correct." John finished the sentence. "So if you don't mind..." He nodded towards the hallway.
Sam stared at him and then nodded. "I'm warning you. I want full details later." She hurried after Bailey.
John walked next to George. "I don't think we should give them to her. I believe it would only shock her."
"Why are you doing this?" George's voice was weary. "I thought we'd just forget what happened and go on as we used to."
John shook his head. "No can do."
"Why?"
"I don't want to. And I don't think you want it either." John sat down and laid his hand on George's shoulder. "I know you care for me. If you didn't, you wouldn't be so hurt now."
George pushed the cop's hand off him. "Stop that!"
"What? Touching you? I don't think so."
"This is not a game to me."
"Not to me either." John squinted his eyes. "Did you ever consider the possibility that I didn't want you to leave? That sometimes a shower is just to get clean from the mess you made earlier?"
George bit his lip. "You..." He cleared his throat and started again. "You didn't want me to leave? You don't blame me for taking an advantage of you?"
"Do you really think I would ask you to do something to me I didn't want?" John swallowed. "You know I'm not all that good with words, but I have to tell you that I'd like to continue... You know, seeing you again. After work. Like for a beer or something..."
'Is he asking what I think he is?' "You still have that bottle of wine?" Not too pushy, but not too vague either.
John blinked and then flashed a radiant smile. "Yeah, I've got it. It's open, though and I think it might get bad soon. Are you free tonight?"
"Yes. If you want me. I mean, to come by." George blushed a little.
"Yeah, I do want you." The cop smiled. "I guess I should go and get Bailey and Sam back here. We do have some work to do here." He got up, but stopped after a few steps, turning to glance at his friend. "So, it's a date, tonight?"
"It most definitely is."
The End
Nov 23 1998 (revised March 2000)