((Fair warning, it's Jon and Vicki. Adult situations are a given!))
Today was the day they had all been waiting for - or not. Okay, so it was the day Jon had been waiting for, but not for the expected reasons. Tonight was the premiere of Fifty Shades Freed, the final installment in the trilogy of movies Jon had signed up for three years ago, in an attempt to recoup some of the money he'd lost on his - or rather, Humphrey's - investment in Lelah's baby, 21twelve studios. He had since more than made up for the loss and then some; it was no longer about money so much as fulfilling a commitment.
Fifty Shades Freed, indeed. The Freed part was right, anyway. Jon couldn't help but be glad to at last be able to say goodbye to the character of Christian Grey forever and turn his attention to other projects. Such as Rhy'Din Nights. There was potential there for another film project, if he and Mataya could manage to get the proper funding. But right now, all he really cared about was the theater and the little family he called his own. He'd promised Vicki a vacation sometime soon, but now that they had two children in tow, it was difficult deciding just where to go. At the moment, though, Jon's thoughts were focused on the premiere and on what color suit to wear.
"Vicki?" he called from the vicinity of the walk-in closet that housed his ridiculously large wardrobe of designer clothes. "Black or blue, what do you think?"
"What, you're not going with grey?" his merry tempered wife asked him teasingly from the bedroom, where she was contemplating the dress laid out on the bed. Liv was a minor wonder when it came to making sure Vicki was properly decked out, but this time around, it had been Miranda who had taken her in hand. Thank god for magic underwear, was all she could really say about it.
"Grey is so....grey," Jon remarked, as he contemplated various tuxedos, suits, and tie combinations. Thankfully, he had a good eye for fashion. Being a Granger, maybe it was just in the blood, or maybe it was the fact that he'd been modeling clothes for various fashion designers - including his cousin Miranda - almost since he could walk. "I'm thinking black. What do you think?"
"You always look good in black," Vicki agreed, wandering to the door of the walk-in-closet. She was still in just her slip, letting her body get used to the constriction of the SPANX holding in what was left of her baby belly. Likewise, her heels were on for virtually the same reason. "Blue's more of an afternoon color, anyway," she added thoughtfully. "And knowing 'Taya, she's laid on a massive spread for the party."
"I wish we could just skip it," he complained quietly, finally deciding on a classic black tuxedo and pulling it out of the closet. It was perfect for evening and he couldn't go wrong wearing basic black. It was no big secret that he wasn't really looking forward to a big party and would just as soon be curled up on the couch in his pajamas with the wife and kids.
"It's the last one," she reminded him gently, knowing how much he hated the crowds that always gathered at these big events. She moved to join him, curling her arms about her husband from behind as she pressed a kiss behind his ear. "Just tonight, and then Christian Grey can go to bed and never come out again."
"Thank God," he murmured, unable to do much to either encourage or discourage that embrace as he was currently pulling the tuxedo out of the closet. He smiled when he felt her lips touch his neck, however. He was putty in her hands and always had been. "Well, he might come out every now and then, if you want him to," he teased. As far as Jon was concerned, the only one who got to see that side of him from here on out was his wife. He hung the tux on a hook and turned to face his wife, gaze wandering over her half-clad form. "Nice....shoes, Mrs. Granger," he said with a smirk.
She laughed at his smirking compliment, twirling for his benefit alone. "You like them' Tell you what ....you wear the dress, and I'll wear the tux," she suggested mischievously, fairly sure Miranda would visit a truly terrible revenge on her if he agreed to this.
He laughed at her suggestion, remembering having to wear heels just once in his life. It was something he never wanted to repeat again, in a professional capacity or otherwise. "Not on your life. I wouldn't last an hour in those shoes!" he replied with a grin. It was their own private joke really - theirs and Mataya's. They had Juno to thank for that.
"You wouldn't be pregnant this time," Vicki protested laughingly, reaching up to gently cradle his face between her hands. "I love you," she reminded him affectionately, brushing her lips to his. "But you should really put some clothes on before I make us late for your last night."
"The party doesn't start 'til we get there," he reminded her with a grin, far too open to his wife's mischievous suggestions. The kids were with a sitter for the evening, and they had the whole night to themselves. Jon slid his arms around his wife's waist, standing there in his boxers and t-shirt and little else, and bent his head to press a soft kiss to her sweet lips. "What do you say we cut out early?" he asked, plying her with another kiss before continuing. "We could check into a hotel for a few hours and give Christian Grey a proper farewell."
"Mmm, sounds like you're feeling a little frisky tonight," she teased laughingly, easing into his arms as he kissed her. "Why not go all the way and defile Mataya's office while she's not looking?" Somehow, Vicki always found a way to one-up him, even if she rarely followed through on her slightly wicked suggestions. "Should I leave my panties at home, Mr. Granger?"
"Mmm," he murmured, his voice muffled against the side of her neck suddenly. His body's reaction to those kisses was becoming painfully obvious. "We have a stretch limousine all to ourselves," he reminded her. The studio had suggested he arrive with Aimee, but he had insisted on a private limousine to share with his wife. He was the star of the show, after all, and had at least a little pull.
She sighed, always more than content to be exactly where she was, wrapped up in Jon's arms. Despite the various bumps in the road they had overcome since he had first wandered into her life, there was no one else she could ever have imagined spending her life with. Her lips brushed his neck tenderly. "If you get dressed promptly, maybe we could leave early and arrive late," she murmured teasingly against his ear.
Today was the day they had all been waiting for - or not. Okay, so it was the day Jon had been waiting for, but not for the expected reasons. Tonight was the premiere of Fifty Shades Freed, the final installment in the trilogy of movies Jon had signed up for three years ago, in an attempt to recoup some of the money he'd lost on his - or rather, Humphrey's - investment in Lelah's baby, 21twelve studios. He had since more than made up for the loss and then some; it was no longer about money so much as fulfilling a commitment.
Fifty Shades Freed, indeed. The Freed part was right, anyway. Jon couldn't help but be glad to at last be able to say goodbye to the character of Christian Grey forever and turn his attention to other projects. Such as Rhy'Din Nights. There was potential there for another film project, if he and Mataya could manage to get the proper funding. But right now, all he really cared about was the theater and the little family he called his own. He'd promised Vicki a vacation sometime soon, but now that they had two children in tow, it was difficult deciding just where to go. At the moment, though, Jon's thoughts were focused on the premiere and on what color suit to wear.
"Vicki?" he called from the vicinity of the walk-in closet that housed his ridiculously large wardrobe of designer clothes. "Black or blue, what do you think?"
"What, you're not going with grey?" his merry tempered wife asked him teasingly from the bedroom, where she was contemplating the dress laid out on the bed. Liv was a minor wonder when it came to making sure Vicki was properly decked out, but this time around, it had been Miranda who had taken her in hand. Thank god for magic underwear, was all she could really say about it.
"Grey is so....grey," Jon remarked, as he contemplated various tuxedos, suits, and tie combinations. Thankfully, he had a good eye for fashion. Being a Granger, maybe it was just in the blood, or maybe it was the fact that he'd been modeling clothes for various fashion designers - including his cousin Miranda - almost since he could walk. "I'm thinking black. What do you think?"
"You always look good in black," Vicki agreed, wandering to the door of the walk-in-closet. She was still in just her slip, letting her body get used to the constriction of the SPANX holding in what was left of her baby belly. Likewise, her heels were on for virtually the same reason. "Blue's more of an afternoon color, anyway," she added thoughtfully. "And knowing 'Taya, she's laid on a massive spread for the party."
"I wish we could just skip it," he complained quietly, finally deciding on a classic black tuxedo and pulling it out of the closet. It was perfect for evening and he couldn't go wrong wearing basic black. It was no big secret that he wasn't really looking forward to a big party and would just as soon be curled up on the couch in his pajamas with the wife and kids.
"It's the last one," she reminded him gently, knowing how much he hated the crowds that always gathered at these big events. She moved to join him, curling her arms about her husband from behind as she pressed a kiss behind his ear. "Just tonight, and then Christian Grey can go to bed and never come out again."
"Thank God," he murmured, unable to do much to either encourage or discourage that embrace as he was currently pulling the tuxedo out of the closet. He smiled when he felt her lips touch his neck, however. He was putty in her hands and always had been. "Well, he might come out every now and then, if you want him to," he teased. As far as Jon was concerned, the only one who got to see that side of him from here on out was his wife. He hung the tux on a hook and turned to face his wife, gaze wandering over her half-clad form. "Nice....shoes, Mrs. Granger," he said with a smirk.
She laughed at his smirking compliment, twirling for his benefit alone. "You like them' Tell you what ....you wear the dress, and I'll wear the tux," she suggested mischievously, fairly sure Miranda would visit a truly terrible revenge on her if he agreed to this.
He laughed at her suggestion, remembering having to wear heels just once in his life. It was something he never wanted to repeat again, in a professional capacity or otherwise. "Not on your life. I wouldn't last an hour in those shoes!" he replied with a grin. It was their own private joke really - theirs and Mataya's. They had Juno to thank for that.
"You wouldn't be pregnant this time," Vicki protested laughingly, reaching up to gently cradle his face between her hands. "I love you," she reminded him affectionately, brushing her lips to his. "But you should really put some clothes on before I make us late for your last night."
"The party doesn't start 'til we get there," he reminded her with a grin, far too open to his wife's mischievous suggestions. The kids were with a sitter for the evening, and they had the whole night to themselves. Jon slid his arms around his wife's waist, standing there in his boxers and t-shirt and little else, and bent his head to press a soft kiss to her sweet lips. "What do you say we cut out early?" he asked, plying her with another kiss before continuing. "We could check into a hotel for a few hours and give Christian Grey a proper farewell."
"Mmm, sounds like you're feeling a little frisky tonight," she teased laughingly, easing into his arms as he kissed her. "Why not go all the way and defile Mataya's office while she's not looking?" Somehow, Vicki always found a way to one-up him, even if she rarely followed through on her slightly wicked suggestions. "Should I leave my panties at home, Mr. Granger?"
"Mmm," he murmured, his voice muffled against the side of her neck suddenly. His body's reaction to those kisses was becoming painfully obvious. "We have a stretch limousine all to ourselves," he reminded her. The studio had suggested he arrive with Aimee, but he had insisted on a private limousine to share with his wife. He was the star of the show, after all, and had at least a little pull.
She sighed, always more than content to be exactly where she was, wrapped up in Jon's arms. Despite the various bumps in the road they had overcome since he had first wandered into her life, there was no one else she could ever have imagined spending her life with. Her lips brushed his neck tenderly. "If you get dressed promptly, maybe we could leave early and arrive late," she murmured teasingly against his ear.