Taste the Forbidden
rating: Y-14 for sexuality
pairing: Joyce/Javier Vachon, contains some Joyce/Hank, Other/Hank
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from BtVS or Forever Knight.
Distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth, The Next Level, Paula. Anyone else must ask.
smummary: When Joyce discovers Hank having an affair, she decides to have her own affair on her next art buying trip.
set considerably before the BtVS series began, and before Vachon arrived in Toronto.
Joyce Summers was in a good mood. Her daughter Buffy was in kindergarten, delighted with the opportunity to spend hours with other little children. Joyce was just delighted with all the additional time that it gave her. Time to work on the house, or for the gallery, or maybe... just maybe she could try to rekindle the romance between herself and her husband Hank. He'd seemed a bit distant lately...
She made her way into the law firm where he worked, hoping to surprise him over his lunch break. She'd packed a basket with some finger foods and a bottle of white wine, and a few... interesting little extras. She had no difficulty finding his office, the discrete bronze plaque proclaiming 'Hank Summers' on the door.
There were noises coming from inside. Little gasping noises and the soft sound of kissing. She felt something inside of her grow cold and tense, certain that she was hearing the sounds of someone... some ones making out. 'Please let it be a couple of interns...' Her mind offered a feeble plea to any power that might be listening.
Her plea was denied. Oh, there was an intern, this dainty little dark haired girl, her shirt half off as she ran her hands over the naked chest of Hank Summers.
Something inside of her froze and cracked, and she simply turned around, leaving the office as quickly and discretely as possible. She managed to force the tears to wait until she reached the car. The image seemed burned into her mind, Hank and that girl... and it was quite clear to her that Hank hadn't been protesting. Had in fact seemed to know exactly how and where to touch the girl to make her... She shook her head, wiping futilely at her hot tears. Clearly, this wasn't their first interlude.
Hank Summers, her husband, was cheating on her. She wasn't enough for the father of her child anymore. And he didn't even have the guts to tell her.
Apparently, he wasn't that worried about 'trying a little harder to keep this marriage together', not even 'for the sake of our daughter' like he'd claimed. Like he'd argued when she'd suggested they just get a quiet divorce after she'd found out about his last affair. Or at least, the one he'd had with the hispanic secretary that had been at his old company. Maybe there had been other affairs that she'd missed.
But what could she do about it? She still wasn't quite financially independent, or she'd divorce Hank so fast he'd get whiplash. She would have to be a lot better established first... Which made her smile a bit. She would take a page from Hank's lesson book. Career before marriage, and feel free to enjoy yourself. Kessie, the woman who owned the gallery had asked her if she'd be willing to make a buying trip for her... she'd initally asked to think about it over a few days, but now? Now her mind was made up. Go away for a while and have some fun. Maybe a no-strings fling with some handsome guy.
So, she made the arrangements for Buffy to stay with her parents, her Grandma and Grandpa Hike for a couple weeks. A small part of her wondered if Hank would even notice that she was gone, despite the note that she'd left on the refrigerator... But that wasn't going to be her problem anymore. No longer would she drive herself crazy trying to hold together this disintegrating marriage. In three more days, she'd be in Seattle, looking at art.
Joyce arrived in Seattle, settled her things into the hotel room, and was off talking to artists. She even managed to keep herself so busy that she didn't have time to dwell on Hank. Not until a few hours after dark, when she was sitting at this little outside cafe staring at her half eaten sandwich. The tears welled up, rolling down her cheeks in a silent trickle.
"A lovely lady shouldn't be crying, or so alone." There was a faint accent to the man's voice, something not quite hispanic... maybe actual spanish?
She looked up, her first thought to tell whoever it was to go away. But then she got a look at him. Longish dark hair, curling down to his collar. Beautiful dark eyes that she could drown in, and so... he had what she could only describe as boyish good looks combined with a sleek sensuality. She licked lips that had suddenly gone dry. "Maybe you'd care to sit with me then?"
"I'd be delighted to keep you company. For as long as you want." He lifted one of her hands, brushing his lips over the back of it. "Javier Vachon at your service, fair lady."
Oh my goodness... the charm in this man. He'd be able to sell ice to Eskimos. Joyce could only smile at him, certain that somehow, before she left Seattle, there would be something between her and this man, Javier Vachon. His eyes promised passion and pleasure, and wrapped everything in mystery. "Joyce Summers."
They didn't do anything more than chat over drinks at the cafe that night, but Joyce knew that she'd be here tomorrow evening. She knew that he would be here as well. An she knew that he would be trying to charm her, to seduce her with pretty words and smoldering looks. She was perfectly agreeable to that, actually...
Joyce smiled to herself when Javier Vachon arrived the next evening. He looked... wonderful. She only hoped that she looked half as tempting, dressed in a dress of pale gold, fitted through the bodice, the skirt full and falling halfway to her calves. She'd pulled her hair back, the honey blond curls held back by a pale yellow rose. Somehow, his smile when he mentioned how pleasant the evening was seemed to say that he knew. He knew that she would be in his arms if he only asked.
Apparently, Javier had a bit more subtlety than most men his age. He smiled at her, one hand holding hers, his thumb slowly caressing her palm. "Walk with me in the moonlight?"
Joyce knew full well that he was actually inviting her to do a good bit more than just walk in the moonlight with him. From the look in his eyes, the curve of his smile... Javier Vachon was propositioning her. Suggesting without words that after a walk they go somewhere for illicit passion. Smiling, Joyce rose from the chair. "I'd love to."
They walked in the moonlight, hands linked, hips and shoulders occasionally brushing. There were soft smiles and glances that hinted of passions and desires. Javier knew some places that were beautiful by moonlight...
He smiled, kissing her lips, his mouth tasting almost like copper. Joyce felt as if she was melting in his arms. When he spoke, it was a husky whisper, his accent stronger. "Come home with me?"
She looked into his dark eyes and knew that this was inevitable. Had probably been inevitable since he first offered a greeting. "I think I'd like that."
Joyce allowed Javier Vachon to lead her to his loft, their travel slowed by lingering sweet kisses. Hands touched, sliding over the curves and planes of their soon to be lover's bodies. When they finally made it inside his residence, there wasn't much time wasted dancing around what they both knew would happen.
It wasn't until later that he held her, watching her through half hooded eyes, a smile his only adornment. "I can't offer you anything..."
Joyce silenced him with a kiss. "Yes, you can. You can offer me this week, offer me sweet memories to cherish the rest of my days. You can offer me a distraction from my life."
He smiled, slightly, although there was a hint of puzzlement and a hint of relief. "I can make sure you have good memories of your time in Seattle." Leaning over, his kissed her again, lingeringly. "Very good memories."
end Taste the Forbidden.