Partying on a Saturday night, cruising at Brittany's party at the new hot spot in LA, "East 29th Street and Villa Maria", a club started by 2 crazy Texas women who had decided to move to LA, Josh Groban, Boy Wonder of the Voice, doing a little couch dancing was chilling to the sounds of the sensational band. The lead singer was doing a song, and moving from instrument to instrument, each of the band members moving aside and grooving with her as she never missed a beat on any one of them. Talking to friends and others in the music industry as they sauntered past, Josh kept his eye on her, she was good. Not exactly the type he was usually attracted to, but he wanted to meet her and talk music.
Walking up to one of the owners of the club, Miss Pam(cause that's what everyone called her)he asked if it would be possible to arrange an introduction.
"I don't know, Josh," She shouted over the music, "She's not like the girls you're used to."
"What does that mean?" He asked, starting to feel like HE wasn't good enough to meet HER.
"She's just different, Josh. That's all I can say." Miss Pam gesturing toward the stage, where the music had stopped, and the lead singer walked off the stage, an over-eager fan coming up behind her and grabbing her, she reacted instantly, she had him on his knees, his hand twisted the wrong way so fast, all he could do was apologize.
"Don't ever put your hands on me without permission again." She said quietly into his ear.
"Yes, ma'am, sorry, ma'am, I forgot the first rule of Rude Interruption, never touch Jazz without permission."
"That's right," she said, letting him up, she patted him roughly on the cheek, then grabbing his shirt at both shoulders she gave him a full on smack on the lips, letting him go, he wandered about aimlessly, dazed at physical contact with his idol. She sauntered up to the bar where Miss Pam had her favorite drink-Thud in a Glass-ready and waiting for her. Josh studied her for a moment, she acted like a punk, but she didn't dress like one, low cut black leather pants, with a pop bottle cap belt, simple baby doll T, black boots, and her hair was long brown and straight. She looked at Josh, if he had been a normal mortal male, he would have withered on the spot from the acid in that stare. Just for a second though, he thought he'd seen something else, a momentary let down, a second of doubt, vulnerability. Then the stare was back.
Holding out his hand, he introduced himself. "Hi, I'm Josh Groban."
Leaning back on the bar, she studied the hand, as if it had just been digging in the trash, then studied the man it was attached to. Taking another sip of the drink, she glanced away, "I know who you are."
"They call you Jazz, right?" He said, trying to draw her into a conversation.
"My FRIENDS call me Jazz." Leaning close to him, she whispered, "I don't think you're one of them, "Opera Boy."
"I'm sorry, do I have a sign that says "Loser" somewhere, or are you always so rude to people who just want to talk to you?" He said, getting a little irritated.
She looked at him, then smiled, batting her eyes, putting her hand to her chest, speaking with an exaggerated southern accent,"Oh, Joshie-Poo, you want to talk to little ol' me! I'm so honored!
He laughed sarcastically,"I thought you were a talented musician, and just wanted to talk music with another musician, pardon me for mistaking you for a human being, won't happen again." He said walking away.
Miss Pam reached over the bar, smacking Jazz up side the head.
"Hey!" Jazz protested.
Miss Pam shook her finger in Jazz's face,"He's a nice boy, go and talk to him. He might be good for you!"
"HIM! Good for me!? Oh, please!"
Miss Pam pointed toward Josh,"Go after him and apologize."
Doing as she was told, under protest, and only after making a face, sticking her tongue out at Miss Pam, Jazz sauntered after Josh. He was back on the couch, grooving to the music.
She stood in front of him, arms folded, one hip hiked higher than the other.
"Did you follow me for the kill shot, or are you just standing there for fun?" He asked.
She flopped down on the sofa beside him.
"Miss Pam made me come to apologize."
Josh waited expectantly. Rolling her eyes, she sighed.
"Sorry, I have, "issues."
"That's it!" Josh laughed, "That's the apology?"
"That's about as good as it gets."
"Are you always so nasty, just wondering."
"Sometimes it's the only way to stay alive."
"Hm, cryptic, quirky, Mama, I've found the girl of my dreams!" Sarcasm dripping from his every word, as he gestured to the heavens.
Appreciating the quick wit, she decided to stay, "So, you might be interesting to talk to."
"Why, "Jazz"?"
She leaned very close, he could smell her perfume, she had wide full lips, and despite her tough demeanor, she was really pretty, warm brown eyes, yep, definitely pretty.
Speaking in a low, sultry voice, she said,"Cause, baby, I can jam with the best of them."
Clearing his throat, Josh said, "I could see that."
Looking at him, very differently this time, she spoke again, "That was my last set, why don't we get out of here?"

 

Walking out the front door, Josh handed the parking ticket to the valet. Jazz shook her head, muttering "Sell out." Took his ticket, gave it back to him, and gave hers to the valet.
"Porsche? How cliched can you get?" She said disgustedly.
Josh smirking, "I thought it was supposed to be a chick magnet."
"Not this chick." Jazz said, as the valet pulled up in her cherry red Hummer. Josh raised his eyebrows, not the USUAL car for a woman, but then he was finding out she was not a usual woman. He thought to himself, "I must need my head examined. What am I doing?"
He got in the Hummer with Jazz, barely getting his seat belt buckled as she peeled out of the drive. She drove like a maniac, good thing the Hummer had such a wide wheel base, he was sure they would have rolled over at least a dozen times before she came to a stop in front of a very ordinary looking house in the valley.
She jumped out of the car, starting to the front door, Josh still sitting in the car. She walked back to the open window, leaning her arms on it, she put her head down on them, looking him right in the eye.
"This is my place, come on, I won't bite you...unless you ask real nice." She smiled evilly, wiggling her bootie as she walked to the front door.
Josh got out of the car, thinking he might have to call for the SWAT team to get out of here, and followed her.
She was definitely an enigma. She acted like a...well, he was too much of a gentleman to say... she could sing, play any instrument, but she REALLY needed some anger management classes. Now, her house, middle class all the way, living room, dining room, kitchen 2 bedrooms, 1-1/2 baths. She even had a computer in the corner of the living room. Turning on the lights, she threw her keys on a table by the front door.
"Do you want something to drink?" She asked.
He walked around, looking at the pictures on the walls. A framed "Evil Dead" movie poster. Hm-autographed by Sam Raimi. A "Rocky Horror Picture Show" movie poster, framed and signed by Tim Curry, hm. "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" movie poster, signed by Eric Idle, John Cleese, and Michael Palin. Hm. Okay, so she got around.
"Do you want a drink, or do you just want to stare at the movie posters?" The acid was back.
He looked at her. "What have you got?"
She thought, "Tequila, and some Heineken."
"Heineken." He said, continuing to look at the posters on the walls, going into the dining room, the posters changed. All 4 of the Christopher Reeve Superman movie posters lined up on one wall, and on a separate wall, Somewhere in Time, this one autographed by Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour. Okay, maybe eclectic not quirky.
She came back with 2 Heinekens, he took one nodding his thanks.
"The posters in the living room, okay, but why all the Christopher Reeve posters?" He asked.
She sat on the sofa, putting her beer on the coffee table, she untied her boots, pulling them off she settled on the sofa, her feet stretched out in front of her.
"Trying to figure me out?"She asked.
"Guilty." He answered, walking to the sofa, looking down at her.
"I admire him." She said, regarding him.
"How so?"
"He had it all, fame, career, family, hobby, he should have lost it all when he had the accident. He didn't let it stop him, he can't move, take care of himself, he has to rely on those who love him for everything. That kind of trust, to believe that no one is going to screw him over, I admire that." She said it quietly, almost like a human being.
"You don't have anyone you trust like that?"
"Nope. Everyone has their own motivations."
"Tough way to live."
She shrugged,"It's worked so far."
Josh came around and sat on the sofa. "Has it?"
She held her arms out, "I'm still here."
"Yes, you are."
"And why are you here, Opera Boy?" She asked leaning very close to him, one foot on the floor, the other tucked between them.
"Because you asked me to."
"Do you do everything everyone asks you to?"
He had to stop and think about that one, yes, he would have to say he was a people pleaser, but did he want HER to know that?
"Sometimes." He answered.
"How about all the time?" She laughed, "I've read about you, you're a good boy. You go where you're supposed to go, do what you're supposed to do, is there anything YOU want, Opera Boy?"
Josh laughed, "You trying to get under my skin?"
"No, just trying to get a rise out of you." She smiled wryly.
Thinking to himself, "What have I gotten myself into?!"
She watched him, her mouth open taking another sip of beer.
"Maybe I should go." he said, getting up.
She stood up, leaning very close to him, she left her beer on the coffee table. She took his from him, setting it beside hers.
"If that's what you REALLY want..." She started, moving very close to him now, she reached up, tracing his lips with her fingers. He couldn't believe how that made him feel. She was annoying, aggressive, confrontational, nothing like the girls he'd dated before, but he couldn't deny the attraction. Every fiber of his being was crying out to walk away, this was NOT the kind of girl you brought home to mother. But there was something about her, like a hunger, a desperation beneath the surface, something he couldn't put his finger on that wouldn't let him walk away. Could he be so wrong about her? They'd just met, but he couldn't deny the HEAT! He leaned forward, putting his hands around her waist, she didn't break his arm, so he pulled her closer, and kissed her. The rest of the night was a blur in his memory, buttons flying, clothing landing where it may. And he learned the meaning of every which way but loose.

 

When Josh woke the next morning, his head and arms hanging over the side of the bed, the bed in total disarray, it took him a moment to remember where he was. Thinking he would roll over and Jazz would be there, he was disappointed to find himself alone. Stretching himself awake, he sat up, wondering where he'd left his clothes. This was a first for him, he'd just met her! Wondering what his friends would say, Chris, his parents, Brian, he shook his head. Yep, I definitely need my head examined. As he scanned the room, he spotted a sock, but that was it, thinking himself alone in the house, he got up to track down his clothes. He found the other sock, and in the living room his unmentionables, his jeans, someone came out of the kitchen, thinking it was Jazz he turned, only to find himself face to face with the female bass player from Rude Interruption. Dropping his jeans to a level to cover his "assets", Josh blushed beet red, yep, gotta make an appointment, need my cranium gone over, this is not good for the rep.
Leaning on the door jamb of the dining room, she watched him as he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, a huge grin on her face.
"At least I know what she sees in you, now." The girl said. smugly. Offering her hand, she introduced herself, "I'm BB, and you're Josh."
Josh looked at her hand, take it and risk dropping the jeans, or play it safe, okay, safe at home it is!
"You'll excuse me if I don't shake your hand under the circumstances," he muttered, "Would you mind turning around for a minute?"
Smiling she accommodated him, he slipped into the drawers and jeans, BB turning as she heard the zipper. He checked his pockets, wallet still there, parking ticket, now where was his shirt?
"I think that's it hanging from the light in the dining room" BB said, pointing behind her.
Josh stepped past her, grabbing it from the fixture and slipping it on, the buttons were gone, oh, yeah, flying buttons...so he left it open, and untucked.
"What are you, psychic, how did you know..."
"You were looking for your shirt?" She finished for him. "Deductive reasoning, morning after, the object of your affections gone, embarassing encounter with her roommate, a hasty retreat is usually first order of business. Can't do that without clothes." She whispered the last very close to his face.
"Is everyone in the band so..."
"I'm not nasty, just used to the routine."
"Routine!? Is this a regular occurrence for her?" He asked, feeling like a trophy.
"She doesn't do it often, but it's pretty much the same every time. She doesn't date much, she's more into her career. Want some coffee?" She walked into the kitchen not waiting for his response. He followed his nose to the delicious aroma, she had a cup waiting for him on the kitchen table, a spoon and sugar beside the cup, how did she...? Shaking his head he sat, poured sugar in the cup, and sipped appreciatively.
"Is she always like that?" He asked.
"Jazz is a very direct person, if she likes you she doesn't play games, she goes for it. Just don't be fooled, there's more there than meets the eye."
"What does that mean?" Josh asked, confused.
BB leaned back in the chair, one hand on her hip, the other holding the cup, "She's been through a lot."
"Can you give me a little more to go on than that?" He asked.
Shaking her head, her lips pinched together, she regarded him with cool, green eyes.
"That's her business, if she thinks she can trust you, she'll tell you herself. When she's ready."
"You make her sound like a china doll, she doesn't act fragile."
""Act" being the operative word."
"You're just not going to help me out at all, are you?" He said in frustration.
"No, I'm going to give you the note she left for you." She reached out, the note held between 2 fingers. Josh took it, drained the rest of his coffee, and went to search for his boots.
"One's under the ficus in the living room," BB called as he walked out of the kitchen, "the other one's in the hall."
He shook his head, gathered his boots, and called a cab.
Sitting on the front stoop waiting for the cab, Josh thought over the last 12 hours, not exactly the best decisions, Groban, he thought to himself. But he couldn't get her out of his mind. What is it about tragic people, why are they so irresistable? he thought, trying to ignore the memory of her touch. The taste of her lips. That way lies madness. The cab pulled up, he went to the club, and retrieved the Porsche. On his way home, he left the windows open, hoping the air would clear his thoughts. No such luck. Letting the shower run as hot as he could stand it, he soaked his head under it, hoping to boil the memory of her touching, kissing...
Drying off, he looked at the clock, he had to meet David at the studio in an hour. He had to hustle, as he switched the contents of his pockets over to clean jeans, the note BB had given him fell out. Sitting on the bed, he considered the note for a long time. If he threw it away, he was free. If he opened it...life decision time. One of those crossroads in life, go this way, one thing happens, unfettered fame, happiness, etc, the other way, maybe just as much happiness, but in a different package, and with baggage. All these decisions in life! He opened the note.
"If you want, call me tonight, we can meet after my final set, your choice where. You were good! Surprising."
Her phone number and flamboyant signature followed. Some primal man thing rose up in his chest, she said I was good. Resisting the urge to thump his chest and scream like an ape, Josh finished dressing, he had an appointment to make.

 

Josh and David had been working for a couple of hours, the recording going well, David knew there was something up with Josh, but he knew Josh well enough to know that he'd talk about it when he was ready. Taking a break, Josh opened up.
"David, can I talk to you about something?"
"You know you can, what is it?"
Josh sighed a heavy sign, trying to find a way to say this that wasn't totally embarassing, "Have you ever...ever...had...with a girl..." Sighing heavily again, he bit the bullet, "Have you ever been with a girl the day you met her?"
David laughed in spite of himself, Josh blushed furiously,"This isn't funny, David."
"I Know, I'm sorry, Josh," He got control of himself, "This is one of the hazards of the music business. Groupies..."
"No. She's not a groupie. She's a musician, her group plays at "East 29th Street"..."
Realization,"Oh, you mean the lead singer of Rude Interruption! I met her about a month ago. Jazz! You...and Jazz...wow!"
"You met her? How did you meet her, and why is that so hard to visualize?"
"I met Pam and Cheryl about 2 months after they opened the club, I was checking out a couple of the acts, I saw Rude Interruption, they're good." He hesitated, "I don't know, Josh, she just doesn't seem like someone you'd be interested in."
Josh was starting to get irritated, he could hang with angry cool people, he wasn't a total goody-two shoes.
"Why not?" Josh asked, irritation showing a little.
"Well, she's like your total opposite."
THAT WAS IT! Josh understood a little better now. Opposites attract!
"She is, isn't she?" he said, the irritation ebbing.
David regarded his protege, "You like her, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do." He laughed at himself, "I really do. Am I insane?" He asked David, his expression totally serious.
"No, kid, just in deep trouble." He said good-naturedly, putting his arm around Josh's shoulders, giving him a fatherly hug.
"I think I would have to agree." Josh said, sighing heavily again.
"Let's get back to work."

Later that evening, Josh found himself driving around the corner to "East 29th Street", leaving his car with the valet, he showed his ID at the door, and was let in without waiting.
Rude Interruption was just starting a song as he walked up to the bar, Miss Pam handing him a beer. Jazz was singing, her voice hot and sultry.
"Ain't no sunshine when he's gone,
It's not warm when he's away,
Ain't no sunshine when he's gone,
And this house just ain't no home,
Anytime he goes away..."
The words, and her tone were driving him insane, she held the microphone singing to it, holding it like the lover she was missing in the song. She had sung nearly the whole song with her eyes closed, finally opening them during the last line, feeling Josh's eyes on her. "Anytime, he goes away."
He turned, straddling the bar stool so he could watch Jazz, an talk to Miss Pam, who was watching him, leaning on the bar, her head resting on one hand.
"She's an acquired taste." Miss Pam said, watching Josh closely.
"She is indeed," He said, taking a drink.
"You're not going to hurt her, are you?" She asked, completely serious.
Josh almost choked on his beer, "Me? Hurt her? You can't be serious." He looked at her face, "You're serious? Why is everyone so worried about her, I'm scared of her cracking out whips and chains."
Miss Pam grinned at him wickedly,"Would you like that? It CAN be arranged." She teased.
Holding his hands up, "No! No whips, I was kidding. But really Miss Pam, why is everyone so worried about her? Can't you tell me?"
Miss Pam shook her head, "No, Jazz is very private about this part of her life, if she thinks you need to know, she'll tell you."
Josh threw up his hands in frustration. Rude Interruption took a break, and Jazz strode up to Josh, grabbing his shirt, giving him a kiss to tell his grandchildren about! His hands resting on her waist, she stood between his legs, grinning at him.
"Hey, Opera Boy! Did you get my note?" She asked softly, smirking.
"Yeah, I got the note."
"And I hear you gave my roomie quite a show..." She said, grinning from ear to ear.
Josh blushed at the memory,"Oh, man, how many people did she tell?"
"Let's see, the band, Miss Pam, Miss Cheryl, the kitchen staff, the janitor, who else? No, I think that was it." She said, her eyes twinkling evilly.
He put his head on her chest, groaning."This'll be all over the tabloids in the morning."
"Yeah, I can see it now, Opera Boy in One Night Stand-Film at 11." She snickered, enjoying his embarassment.
"Are you done?" He asked, looking her in the eye.
"Making you feel base and degraded? Yeah, for now. Although I think the term callipygous did get used several times." She laughed softly, the hard edge was still there, but something had softened, he wasn't sure what, but it was definitely there. "Where do you want to go when our set is over?"
"I was thinking, my place."
The corner of her mouth came up, "Okay, Opera Boy, see you in a bit."
She sauntered back to the stage, one of her devoted fans almost putting his hands on her, one hand came up, the "Look" on her face, and he dropped back to an obedient distance. She smooched him on the forehead, signing his tummy with the marker he held out to her. Looking coquettishly over her shoulder at Josh, she winked and headed up to the stage to sing.
Sighing heavily, he whispered, "I'm in big trouble."
"Yep, that would be my assessment." Miss Pam agreed as she walked down the bar to help another customer.

 

After the last set, Jazz waved at Josh, going backstage.
In the dressing room she shared with BB, she went through the clothes back there, pulling out a half dozen outfits, holding them up to her while looking in the mirror, discarding the rejects in an unruly pile on the floor beside her.
BB watched her with great amusement, this was the first time in a long time that she'd seen Jazz ruffled, the shield was coming down, at least for awhile. She leaned back in her chair, calmly filing her nails.
"I'm not picking up this mess." She said to Jazz.
"Oh, shut up, you're enjoying this." She muttered to her friend.
"Oh, yes, I am so totally enjoying this. You like him!" She snickered.
"Shut up! I do not!" She threw the latest reject at BB, who caught it still laughing.
"Yes, you do."
Jazz sat on the other chair, totally terrified. "I do, don't I?"
BB came over to her, giving her a big hug, "It's okay, he likes you, too."
"Really?" She looked anything but the confident arrrogant girl from the night before.
Chucking her friend under the chin, BB said softly,"Yeah, he has it bad. You can relax, I don't think he'll hurt you."
"I hate this. I hate feeling so out of control."
"That's life, babe, get used to it."
She changed, looking at herself in the mirror, "How do I look?"
"Drop dead gorgeous, now go get him tiger!" They made their hands like claws, growling at each other. Laughing, Jazz came out to see Josh. As she saw the look in his eyes when he saw her, her confidence returned, oh, yeah, he has it bad! I am so in control! Strutting up to him, she put a hand on his shoulder,"Ready to get out of here, Opera Boy?"
Taking a final swig of his drink, he swung off the bar stool, "Yeah." He said, as he placed his hand in the small of her back. They walked out, men turning to stare at Jazz as she walked past.

 

They barely got in the front door of his house when Jazz launched herself at him, their lips connected in a blazing kiss, their hands pulling at each other's clothes. Buttons flying again, this is gonna get expensive, Josh thought as she tore his shirt off him. Landing on the floor, mingling, they whiled away the hours.
Josh had bought a house with a fireplace, he hadn't been sure why at the time, as he and Jazz lay in each others arms on a blanket, pillows from the sofa cushioning their heads, they enjoyed the gentle pop and crackle of the flames. Oh, that's why, he thought to himself. Her skin was soft and warm against the length of his body, he sighed in contentment just holding her. This was nice. Jazz snuggled up against Josh, wanting to let her guard down, yet unable to overcome the emotional walls she had built up. She just couldn't, not yet.
"I've heard that relationships based soley on sex never last." He said to Jazz.
Looking up at him, "You think this is a relationship?"
"Don't you?" He asked, expectantly.
"We've only known each other for 2 days, do you think you know me well enough to want to be in a "relationship" with me?"
"I would if we ever talked." He said, laughing.
"Talk is cheap."
"So I've heard, but unless you want to attempt a mind meld, it's the only way I know to get to know someone."
"So, we'll talk. What do you want to talk about, Opera Boy?"
"Well, for one thing, my name is Josh, do you think you could call me that?"
She made an exaggerated attempt, finally holding her hands to her throat as if she were choking on it. "Nope, sorry, it just won't come out, how about if I call you Groban?"
Sighing, Josh agreed, "At least it's better than Opera Boy."
"Okay, Groban, what else do you want to talk about?"
"Why is everyone always warning me not to hurt you?"
"Sorry, Groban, that's on a need to know basis."
"And..." He prompted.
She looked him in the eyes, her expression stony, dead serious, "And, you don't need to know."
"Did I do something wrong?"
"No, I..." the tough mask cracking for a second, allowing him to see something, something he didn't think was possible, Jazz was scared. "I just don't want to talk about it."
"Okay," Josh said, his arms sliding tighter about her, Jazz holding a little tighter, he changed the subject.
"How did you get to LA?"
"My parents moved here when I was 12, and promptly got divorced."
"Ouch." Josh remarked in sympathy. Lots of his friends parents were divorced, he was lucky enough not to have experienced that.
"It's no big deal," she said, shrugging her shoulders, "They would have killed each other if they had stayed together."
"That can't have been fun."
The sarcasm came out, "Oh, no, Groban, it was a barrel of monkeys! They fought over me every other weekend, the only peace I had was when Mom and I moved next door to BB and her mom."
"Sorry."
"Why, it wasn't your fault."
"Automatic response mechanism."
She let it go, they continued to talk finally growing tired, and falling asleep in each other's arms.
In the morning, Jazz woke him with kisses, their hands exploring each other's bodies, blending together, Josh looked up, the front door was opening!
"What day is this?" he asked.
"Sunday, why?" Jazz answered, looking up as Josh's parents came through the front door, his brother Chris behind them.
"Hi, Mom, Dad, Chris." Josh said sheepishly, turning red again, as Jazz pulled the blanket up to cover herself, while snickering .
"Busted, Groban!" She whispered.
Jack and Lindy Groban, their mouths open in astonishment stood in the doorway, ready for church, and since Josh came with them every time he was in town, and they had a key, and were used to having to wake him, had let themselves in. Chris behind them, grinning like a fool, giving his brother the thumbs up gesture.
"This is Jazz." He said pointing her way, causing another snicker to escape her.
"Folks." She said, waving at them.
"Jazz! From Rude Interruption? Josh, dude..." Chris started.
"Chris, go outside!" His mother said to him.
"But, Mom...!" He began.
"NOW, Chris!" His mother insisted quietly.
Chris left, muttering under his breath about never getting to be a part of any of the fun stuff.
Doing all in his power to keep the grin off his face, Jack Groban ushered Lindy back to the door. "We'll give you a few minutes to put yourselves together." He said, turning to walk out with his shocked wife.
Josh lay back on the floor, one hand on his forehead, "Oh, man!" Was all he could think to say.
Jazz patted him on the chest, standing to find her clothes, she snickered again. "I'll call a cab, Groban, you got some 'splainin' to do. I'll call you later." Dressed in a few minutes, she pulled out her cell phone, hitting a speed dial button. Giving them the address, she went out the front door to wait.
Weathering the death glare from Lindy,"You'd better give him a couple more minutes, the shock hasn't worn off yet." She smiled, whistling as she walked past them down the front walk.
"I saw you at "East 29th Street" a couple of months ago, you were great!" Chris gushed as she came up to him.
"Thanks, kid," She said, giving him a rough pat on the cheek. Josh was dressed and at the front door, winking evilly at him, she grabbed Chris by the shirt, giving him the trademark full on smack on the lips. Josh grinned, in spite of himself, Lindy sputtered, Jack dropped his head, shaking it to hide the grin, again. Chris stumbled up to the front door, dazed.

 

Attempting to look pious under the eagle eye of his mother, and failing miserably, Josh sat through Sunday morning services. The ride to church had been, hm, interesting...as his mother and father talked to him about responsibility, and setting an example for Chris, who had given Josh a high five behind the seat, and a thumbs up! Trying not to grin, looking contrite, he had "yes, ma'am" and "no, ma'amed" all the way there. It had gotten REALLY interesting when they found out he'd only known her for 2 days. He hadn't known his mother could hit that high a note. Sitting there, he was doing all he could to stop thinking of Jazz, her hands, her lips, her body, his eyes must have glazed over, his mother reached over rapping him on the knee.
Oh, yeah, I'm gonna burn. Definitely going to the hot place. He thought to himself, clamping his mouth tight on the snicker that attempted to escape him. Finally, church was over, they went to a restaurant and had lunch, making polite conversation, the subject of Jazz pushed in the closet for the time being. Unfortunately, she was not a subject that would stay put, picking the lock, she strolled, unclothed across the forefront of his memory, grinning wickedly as she blew kisses in his direction. Mercifully, God understands about young people and hormones, and allowed time to pass quickly and lunch was over. Dropping him at his house, Lindy leaned out the front window.
"You know we only want what's best for you, Josh." She said, concern on her face.
"I know, Mom," he said, leaning forward, and kissing her cheek, "love you."
"You, too, son." His dad said, Chris waving, giving him the thumbs up, you're my hero sign as they drove out of sight.
Josh watched them leave, then headed up the walk to his front door. Halfway there, he turned startled when a cherry red Hummer came squealing into his drive.
"Still alive, Groban?" She said, hiding behind a pair of sunglasses. He looked into the Hummer, all she wore was a crop top, string bikini bathin suit in lime green. Gulping at the sight, he met her eyes, the sunglasses on the tip of her nose, the wicked gleam in her eyes, yep the hot place for me, no rest for the wicked, he thought, as he ran into his house, changed into a suit, grabbed a towel and some sunscreen, and was back in the Hummer in record time.
Smiling, she peeled out of the driveway, headed for the beach.

 

The weather was perfect, not too hot, cool breeze coming in off the ocean, they found a spot that wasn't too crowded and played the whole afternoon, swimming, sunning, Josh let Jazz bury him in the sand. Then she dug him out, and dusted him off, which proved very interesting. As the sun set on the horizon, stretched out on their towels, they talked, and Josh had a brainstorm.
"You know I was thinking something." He started.
"Did it hurt?" She asked dryly, peering over her sunglasses, smiling sweetly.
"Ha-ha-very funny. I'm serious."
She rolled over, her chin resting on her hands, fingers interlaced, her feet in the air, crossed at the ankle, which gave him a lovely view of...shaking himself, back on topic, Groban.
"I'm recording the new album, we should do a duet."
She pulled the glasses off, "Are you serious?"
"Dead serious,..."
"Wait a minute, Groban, this isn't one of those, "poor little loser musician, I'll help her and then she'll be grateful" situations is it, because I don't need you to make it! I'm doing pretty good right where I am!" She sat back on her heels, real indignation in her face and voice.
"No! God, no!" Josh started, "I just like your voice, and I think we could come up with something really great, that's all." Josh's brain thinking wait a minute, why am I apologizing?
Still suspicious, she regarded him with narrowed eyes.
"I don't need pity, Groban, I'm not a charity case. I'm a musician, and a darn good one."
She stood and started to walk down the beach, Josh jumping up to follow her.
"I was just suggesting something I thought would be fun. The 2 of us," he stopped her, his hand on her shoulder, indicating the both of them, "You know, jamming together. Making a new sound. I want to sing with you."
She looked at him, the corner of her mouth slowing rising into a smile. "I like the way you think, Groban." She said, launching herself at him, her legs wrapping around his waist, taking him down to the sand, she smothered him with kisses.
"And I definitely like the way YOU think." He said, as she covered his mouth with hers, shutting him up.

As they drove back to Jazz's place, Josh driving this time. Jazz was silent. After many minutes of considered quiet, she spoke, "I'm sorry, I wasn't mad at you."
Josh swerved in shock, gaining control, he looked at her.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, why?"
"That was a real apology!"
Smacking him in the arm, she moved closer,"Don't press your luck, it was a moment of weakness, they don't happen often, so you'd better be appropriately grateful."
"Yes, ma'am." He said saluting. "There's that spice."
"A duet, huh?"
"Yeah, what do you think?"
"What would we sing, "I'm a little bit country, I'm a little bit rock and roll"?"
Josh laughed,"Hm, interesting, but I think, not. We've got time, we can kick it around."
Leaning over and blowing in his ear, "Speaking of kicking it, are we there yet, you drive like a grandma, Groban."
"Almost there." He said grabbing her around the waist, pulling her beside him, giving her a quick peck on the lips. They rolled to a stop in front of her house, on the sidewalk, she tapped him on the shoulder.
"Tag!" Then ran to the house, Josh in hot pursuit.
"Hey, BB!" Jazz yelled as she ran past on the way to her bedroom.
Josh skidded to a halt, "Hi, BB, how's it going?" Then ran to follow Jazz.
"Hey! Keep it down in there, we have neighbors!" BB yelled, grinning and shaking her head, "Kids."

 

Bouncing into David's recording studio bright and early Monday morning, Josh was filled with energy, and ready to bounce his duet idea off of David.
"You're in a good mood." David said smiling.
"I had a GREAT day off," Josh said sighing.
"So I heard." David remarked, his expression dead-pan.
Looking at David's expression, a moment of doubt grabbed Josh, taking his good mood to the mat. No,...no, there's no way...no. He thought to himself, turning red.
"What? What did you hear?" He asked, sweat breaking out on his upper lip.
"Your, um dad...called Brian." He started, unable to get the grin off his face.
Sinking to the couch, putting his head in his hands, "Oh, man!"
Taking a seat on the couch, David turned to his protege, "They're concerned, Josh, that's all, and as a parent, I understand where they're coming from."
Looking at David, his expression pained but serious, "David, I know they're concerned, and I know I'm only 22, but when do I get to make the decisions. This IS my life. I love my parents, but when it comes to who I see, that HAS to be MY choice."
David held his hands up,"I understand, Josh, it's a parent thing. Come on, let's get to work."
Shaking off the bad mood, he remembered what he wanted to talk to David about.
"A duet with Jazz? That could be really good. What do you want to sing?" David asked.
"Don't know yet." Josh replied, picking up the headphones, looking over the music they were working on today.
"Well, work something up, and let's talk about it. She's got that rock/soul sound, it could be a really good mix." David said.
They worked for 8 hours, satisfied with the days work, Josh said good-by to his mentor and friend, and headed for "East 29th Street".
The bar was open, Jazz and Rude Interruption were rehearsing, she was singing something to a soulful beat, like the beat of a heart, hot and sultry. She opened her eyes, seeing Josh, she gave him a wink, continuing to sing. They finished the song, Jazz slinking off the stage, walking up to him on the bar stool to stand between his legs again. Her hands behind his neck.
"Hey, Groban, haven't seen you all day, did you miss me?" She asked, smiling, the evil twinkle ever present in her eyes.
"Yeah, it was torture."
"Good. It's good for man to suffer once in a while."
"I talked to David about the duet."
"Did you?"
"Yeah, he thinks it's a great idea."
"You sure you want to do this?"
"Absolutely."
"I have a song, I can show it to you, after we perform tonight, it's at the house."
He smiled, "Really?"
"Yeah, we'd have to re-arrange it. It would be words and music by my magnificent self, arranged by Groban, and Jazz. If you're interested." She said while one finger traced it's way down his collarbone, playing with the chest hair peeking out of his collar.
"Oh, I'm very interested." He said, his temperature rising as she kissed the path her finger had just taken.
"In me or the song?" She asked teasingly.
"Both, definitely both." He said, moving closer to her.
"Good answer, Groban, you may now advance to the lightning round." She whispered as her mouth closed over his, lightning striking.

 

Much, much later that evening, Jazz and Josh read her song, Josh on the floor, leaning back on the bed, Jazz on her stomach, looking over his shoulder as he read.
"This is good." Josh said.
"You had doubts? I'm disgusted." She teased, playing with his hair.
"We could change some things up, and make this a good duet."
"I thought so." She said, smiling at him.
They worked on the arrangement of the song, as well as the arrangment of other things for the rest of the night. David liked the song, and the arrangement, they did some prelims, and a week later, they were ready to record, they had some studio musicians in the recording studio for the actual recording. Jazz and Josh at the mic, headphones on they were ready to begin, the overture was a soft rock with an R&B backbeat, Josh singing first.
Josh-My heart seeks, my soul questions,
People with such easy loves,
Do they know
Jazz(echoing)-Do they know?
Josh-Can they really love?
Jazz(echoing)-Can they really love?
Together-When will it be my turn?

Jazz-I was looking for you,
your quiet eyes,
your shining smile.
Together-Looking for the heart
Jazz-That will hold mine, know mine
Josh(echoing)-Know mine
Together-I was looking for you.
Josh-Seasons come, going through the motions, searching,
Where is she now?
Jazz(echoing)-Where is he now?

Josh-Is she looking for me?

Jazz-I was looking for you,
your soft, quiet eyes,
your smile, oh, that sweet smile,
Together-Looking for your heart
Jazz-Your heart that will hold mine so near
Josh-Looking for you
Jazz Looking for you

Josh-Will I ever know
Jazz-How can I EVER know
Josh-Will I ever feel
Jazz-Oh, baby, I want to feel
Josh-All I want to share
Jazz-I want to share it with you
Together-It just can't be a dream
You have to be near
You have to know I'm here
You have to be looking for me, too
Josh-I was looking, looking for you
Jazz-Those eyes
Josh-That smile
Jazz-The heart
Josh-The heart that will hold mine so near
Looking for the soul, oh, that soul
Jazz-That already knows mine
Josh-I was looking for you
Jazz-I was looking for you
Together(softly)-Looking for you

"Fantastic!" David said as they finished the last note. "That was great! We'll play it back, then see if we need to redo any of it. I'm amazed, you 2 did a great job with the arrangement."
Jazz her back to Josh, leaning on him, she looked at David, "Another doubter," she tsked, shaking her head.
Josh put his arms around Jazz, kissing the back of her neck, she grinned.
Josh went to listen with David, Jazz gathering up the music, one of the musicians came up behind her. She froze as a voice from the past spoke quietly in her ear.
"Jazz, how you been, sweetie?"
Her face frozen in fear, Jazz turned, shaking.
"What do you want, Eric?" She said, her voice shaking.
"Just to say hello, darlin'." He stepped back giving her a visual once over, "Milk sure has done your body good, little lady. Maybe we should get together, and jam?" He put his hand up to rub her cheek, Jazz recoiling in revulsion.
Abandoning her music, Jazz left the studio. Josh only seeing the last of the exchange, followed her. She was running, and he only caught up to her when she reached the Hummer.
"Jazz!" He said, "What's wrong?"

 

Jazz clung to the side of the Hummer, as he got closer, he could see she was shaking. Stopping at her side, he tried to hold her, make her turn and look at him, anything. Pushing him away, he realized she was crying.
"DON'T-DO NOT look at me!" She yelled at him.
"Jazz, what's wrong?! TALK to me!" He yelled back, trying to get close to her.
She clung to the door handle, slowing sinking to the pavement, curling in on herself. Josh dropped to his knees beside her, staying as close as she would allow him to.
"Jazz...baby...I can't help you if you don't talk to me. Please, what is it?"
Hugging her knees to her chest, she shook her head, "Need to know, Groban." She whispered as tears rolled down her face.
Josh sat next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders, pulling her head down on his shoulder.
"Jazz, you're sitting on the pavement, shaking like a leaf, I think I need to know."
She looked at him, her face a mask of inner pain, "What if I tell you, and you hate me for it?"
"Why would I hate you?"
She didn't answer.
"Please, Jazz, you have to tell me."
He stood her up, opening the door to the Hummer, he made her get in the back seat, and he held her while she cried. When she had gained control of herself, he spoke softly to her.
"Jazz, what is it? And what does it have to do with that man?"
"Eric Riker." She said, her voice devoid of the life, and sarcasm he had come to know and love.
"Tell me, Jazz."
"He was my mother's boyfriend when I was 13, right after my parents divorced."
"Yeah, go on."
"She has a weakness for musicians. My dad is a musician. Eric used to stay with us when he was in town."
"At your mom's house?"
"Yeah."
"What happened?"
"Mom had to work late, it was just me and Eric at the house. I never told my mother, he said he would kill her if I did. I was just a kid, I was so scared."
"Oh, my God. Oh, my God." Josh whispered, shock, and fury mingling in his head and heart.
"I hated him, for what he did to me. I HATED that I was so afraid. She continued to see him for another 3 months, every time he was there, I would go over to BB's house, I told her, she keeps the secret, cause she's my only real friend. Sometimes I couldn't avoid him, if we were alone, even if it was just for a minute, he would put his hands on me. When he and mom broke up, I swore no one would EVER put their hands on me like that again. You needed to know, Groban, now you know." She buried her face in his chest, clinging to his shirt, and cried.
Josh held her, as tightly as he could. That someone would do this to a child, a young girl. It filled his heart and mind with a rage he never knew he was capable of. A need to strangle something, someone rose up from his soul. And an anger, that he hadn't been there to protect her. He knew it was foolish, but it was there.
David tapped on the window of the car, Josh rolled down the window.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"Um...no." Josh said, "We're going to go now, and I'll call you later."
"Anything I can do?"
"No, David, thanks," Josh said, David left to let the musicians go home for the day.
"You wanna go?" He asked Jazz.
"Yes."
They crawled over to the front seat, Josh driving, Jazz sitting beside him, holding his arm. He took her back to his house. They lay in the bed, Jazz sleeping in his arms. She had wanted to be with him, in the state she was in, he couldn't deny her, even though his mind still seethed with the anger at what had been done to her. He knew she would recover from the shock of seeing this man after so many years. Understanding Jazz in a whole new way, he found himself loving her even more than he had before. Startled at that thought, he had to admit it to himself, he was in love. He had to figure out a way to help her.

 

Jazz slept the whole day, Josh had gotten up without waking her. He had decided he needed to know more. Calling David, he asked Mr. Riker.
"How did you find him David?" Josh asked.
"One of the guys recommended him, he plays pretty good, I just needed some background."
"I can't tell you why, but I need you to let him go."
"This is about Jazz?"
"Yeah."
"And you can't tell me why?"
"Sorry."
Sighing, "It's done. You'll let me in on it one day, right?"
"When I can."
Hanging up, Josh sat back to watch some TV, waiting for Jazz to wake up, unwilling to leave her alone in the house. It was later that afternoon when she came out, a little more subdued than usual. Grabbing his neck from behind the sofa, she nibbled his ear.
"Hey, Groban. I gotta get to the club in about an hour for rehearsals, you gonna sing the duet with me tonight?"
"You know it," he said, grabbing her, dragging her over the back of the sofa.
Looking into his eyes, she struggled up, standing with her back to him. Turning, he saw that she was angry, and with him.
"DON'T, Groban, DO NOT look at me like that!" She yelled at him.
"WHAT?!" he asked, confused, "How did I look at you?"
Standing to face her, his hands open, trying to understand.
"Do NOT presume to PITY me, Groban! I won't stand for it!" She yelled again.
"I don't!" Josh yelled back, trying to get through to her.
"I SAW it, I saw it in your eyes! Don't lie to me! This is exactly why I don't tell people!"
"I don't, Jazz, I don't pity you, I love you!" He yelled back. "I...I'm just so angry, and I don't know what to do about it."
She stopped for a second, "You what?"
He paced, "I'm just so angry about it..."
She interrupted, "No, before that, keep up with me here, Groban. You what?"
He understood, and smiled, "I love you."
She came over to him, grabbing his shirt, she gave him a smack on the lips, "I was wondering when you would come to realize that."
"There's the girl I know."
"I'm still Jazz."
"And you can still jam with the best of them."
"Damn straight, Groban, and don't you forget it."
He pulled her to him, she planted a teeth shattering kiss on him, still holding her, he told her what he'd done.
"I got him fired."
"What?" She asked.
"I asked David to let him go."
She laughed, the evil twinkle in her eye, "You did, huh, just for little ol' me?"
"Yeah."
"Well, ain't you stud dog, Groban."
"And don't you forget it."
She laughed, "Mm, attitude, you might be worth keeping."
"You think?"
"At least for a little while longer. Come on, I've gotta get to the club." She walked to the front door, swishing her rear, pausing to look over her shoulder, she winked.
"Coming?"
He smiled, enjoying the view, "Yeah."

 

Singing the duet, Jazz and Josh rocked the house. It was the finale of Rude Interruptions set that night, Jazz and Josh taking their final bows, she smacked him, telling him she had to get her bag from the dressing room, Josh stepped down off the stage, going to the bar. Miss Pam walked down to say hello.
"Josh, that was really great! You two sound great together."
"Thanks, Miss Pam, I really like singing with Jazz."
Miss Pam looked at Josh, "Uh-oh, the love bug has bitten you big time." She said chuckling.
Josh smiled, "Yeah, I kind of like her."
"You be good to her." She said shaking her finger in his direction.
"Yes, ma'am." He said.
They both turned as Miss Cheryl called out to Miss Pam, hurrying up to her.
"You will not believe who was just in the office!" Miss Cheryl said, clearly upset.
"Who?" Miss Pam, asked.
"That slimy, little, disgusting, knuckle-dragging dirtbag, Eric!" Miss Cheryl said, not finding enough bad words to describe the fetid, mealy-mouthed sack of dog excrement.

Josh's head snapped up at the name, "Eric Riker?"
Miss Pam and Miss Cheryl looking at him in stunned surprise.
Miss Pam-How did you know about Eric?
Miss Cheryl-Did you tell him?
Miss Pam-I would NEVER tell anyone about Eric.
Miss Cheryl-Well, I didn't tell him.
Miss Pam-That's strictly need to know.
Miss Cheryl-And he doesn't need to know.
Miss Pam-Unless BB told him.
Miss Cheryl-You could cut out BB's tongue and she would never tell.
Miss Pam-Course if you did, then she couldn't.
Miss Cheryl-Couldn't what?
Miss Pam-Couldn't tell.
Miss Cheryl-What are you prattling on about?
Miss Pam-You started it.
Miss Cheryl-Did not.
Miss Pam-Did too.

"LADIES!" Josh interrupted, "Eric is here?"
Miss Cheryl-"I just had him thrown out the back door, he was drunk as a skunk."
Josh looked at both of them, "I had him fired today, that's probably why he was drunk."
Miss Pam-"How could you get him fired?"
Josh sighed, "He was at the recording session yesterday."
Both ladies looked at each other alarmed.
Miss Cheryl-"You met Eric?"
"I caught the end of his "greeting" to Jazz, and she told me about their history. I'm gonna go check on her."
Miss Cheryl-Should we call the police?
As he walked away from them, he looked back, "It might not be a bad idea."
Miss Pam-What do you think?
Miss Cheryl-Got your boots?
Miss Pam-You know it.
Miss Cheryl-I'll get the baseball bat.
Miss Pam-I'll get my nine iron.
Miss Cheryl-Time to open up a can of whup-ass!
The 2 cultured ladies and proprietors of "East 29th Street and Villa Maria" followed Josh, prepared to do what Texans do best.

 

Jazz entered the dressing room, leaving the door open, her bag wasn't where she left it, thinking that BB had moved it, she started to move things around. Thinking it was BB she heard behind her, she asked, "BB, did you move my bag?" Turning, Eric stood in the doorway. Freezing at his unwelcome sight, she looked around the room for something to defend herself.
"Your little boy toy got me fired. Did you know that, you little tramp?" He growled dangerously. Moving into the room he reached for her, the room too tight to get past him, he grabbed her arm. Squeezing it hard. Hating her fear, hating his touch on her skin, the memories of terror it provoked in her mind, her heart, she struggled, trying to get free of him.
Feigning confidence, she stood up to him, "What do you want Eric?"
"To get back at him, what better way than through you?" He smiled, a cold, cruel smile. Unable to stop her reaction she shivered. He had backed her up against the make-up table, she reached behind her, finding a hair dryer, she hit him as hard as she could, trying to run past him as he stumbled. His hold was too tight. Grabbing her by the hair, he clamped his hand over her mouth, dragging her out the exit to the alley behind the club.
Josh ran into the dressing room, no Jazz, the room in shambles, he turned to leave, he had to find her, Miss Pam, and Miss Cheryl got to the door.
Miss Pam-Where is she?
"I don't know,"Josh answered,"This is the only way back here, where would he have taken her?"
Miss Pam and Miss Cheryl looked at each other, coming to the same conclusion, "The alley!"
The three of them ran toward the exit.

 

Throwing Jazz ungently against the dumpster, Eric swaggered around muttering to himself. Jazz sat on the ground, her legs tucked up tight to her body, her arms around them, her childhood horrors at what was again at hand overloading her.
Eric bent down in front of her, his breath reeking of the many pints of alcohol he had consumed.
"I missed you, little girl. We're gonna have some fun, tonight."
He leered at her, she closed her eyes against the memories of that face, those hands. She shuddered, unable to think clearly, unable to overcome the paralysis of body and mind he had always caused in her. But she wasn't that little girl anymore. She wasn't sure where that thought had come from, it's effect spread like a ripple in the water.
"I'm not that little girl anymore." She whispered to herself. She looked up at Eric, seeing him for what he really was, at last. A drunken, broken-down old has-been musician. No, a never-was musician. A bully and a coward. Shaking from the power of the inner realization, she pulled herself to her feet. Coming forward, almost smelling the return of confidence, he back-handed her, knocking her to the ground.
"Don't look at me like that!" he yelled at her.
Still shaking, wiping the blood off the corner of her mouth, she pulled herself to her feet again, spitting in Eric's face. Coming forward, he back-handed her again, this time, she kept her feet.
"Don't look at me like that, you little tramp!" He screamed at her, starting to look nervous. Coming forward again, he raised his hand to her once more, she stuck her chin out in defiance, daring him to hit her again, shaking, but standing her ground. Grabbing her, he put his hands around her neck, Jazz fought as he tried to strangle the new defiance out of her with his hands. Use the force of his twisted will to make her the scared little girl again, so he could feel like a man. Just as she thought she might not make it, Eric was pulled off of her. Dropping to her knees, gasping for air, Jazz saw as Josh cold-cocked Eric, and he went down like the sack of slime that he was. Dropping to his knees beside her, Josh pulled her close. Jazz looked up, her eyes filled with peace.
"I stood up to him." She whispered.
Josh looked at her, his face filled with concern, "You did?" He whispered back.
"I'm not afraid anymore."
"You did great, I saw you."
"You did?"
"Yeah, I was so proud."
"You'd better be, Groban." She smiled, wincing as it pulled at her damaged lip.
Eric rose up from the ground, moving back to them.
Miss Pam-"Not so fast there, partner." She said, smacking him in the shins with her nine iron.
Miss Cheryl-"Let me help you there, fella." She said, smacking him in the chin with the baseball bat.
Miss Pam-"Where you going there, Eric, old buddy." She said, whacking him in the butt with the golf club.
Miss Cheryl-"Headed the wrong way there, old pal." She said, smacking him in the hand with the butt end of the bat as he attempted to scuttle away like a crab.
Miss Pam-"Other way there, old son." She said, whacking him in the hamstrings with the niner, directing him back into the club.
Miss Cheryl-"We got some good old boys who want a word with you." She said, cracking him in the butt with the bat. "I'm gonna have to wash this when we get done." She said, examining the bat closely as her partner enthusiastically prodded Eric into the bar, and into the waiting arms of the club bouncers, Hans,Paolo, and the Australian Triplets. Turning to Josh and Jazz, she smiled sweetly. "Take your time, darlins', we'll take out the trash, the police are on the way." She grinned as she walked into the club.
Miss Cheryl-"Hey, Miss Pam, leave a little for me."
Miss Pam-"Well hurry your buns up,(whack, Eric whimpering), there's enough of this old hombre to go around. Hans baby, got that can open yet, honey? Here we come, YEE-HA!!!!!
Miss Cheryl-"Move along little doggie!!!!!

They continued to hear cheery shouts from Miss Pam, and Miss Cheryl, and whimpering from Eric, as they herded him down the hall. It was a couple of hours later, the police had left, Eric arrested for assault, ice applied to Jazz's lip, and Josh's fist.
Miss Pam-"You should have used the niner, honey." She said as she tsked over his bruised fist.
Miss Cheryl-"Why don't you kids go home? We'll clean up."
Josh and Jazz walked out the door, one arm each around the other's waist. They went to the Hummer, Josh drove, Jazz curled up to his side. They didn't speak, they didn't need to, so they rode in silence. Squealing to a halt in front of her house, Josh got out of the car, opening the door for Jazz, she leaned on the door, looking at him with an evil glint in her eye. But Josh was faster. Leaning close, his lips brushing the skin on her neck, he tapped her on the shoulder.
"Tag!"He whispered, then ran like a madman for her room.
"Hi, BB! Bye BB!" He yelled as he ran past.
"Where'd he go?" Jazz yelled as she ran into the house, BB pointed behind her in the direction of Jazz's room, not looking up as Jazz ran to her room.
Continuing to watch her program, while snacking away on popcorn, she shook her head, smiling, "Kids."

The End.