She laughed at the prospect of a message from the Human Torch appearing in the sky over Maple Grove Manor. "He might," she warned him cheerfully. "He was worried about you last night." She stretched comfortably beside him. "No, he didn't explain, but apparently he's part elf. It must be some kind of magic, whatever it was."

"But he couldn't heal it?" he continued, presuming that was the case or he wouldn't still be in a splint. The leg wasn't so bad so long as he didn't move it, but he knew he was going to have to move sooner or later. He took a sip of orange juice, wincing a little at the sour taste of it first thing in the morning. "You know, I was thinking..." he started as he set the glass back on the tray. "If I'm gonna be hobbling around in a splint for a while, maybe I can get out of the tour." Wasn't he the one who just said something about a healer"

Vicki raised a brow, surprised by this turnaround. He was usually the first to call a Healer, even if the injury was just a paper-cut. "Are you sure" That means at least three weeks of crutches and a splint, sweetheart," she reminded him gently. "You don't deal well with being in pain."

"Well, I mean if it doesn't work," he clarified. Jon wasn't one for being in pain, if he didn't have to be. His little stint as pregnant Vicki had proved that. "Is it horrible of me to dread going on tour?" he asked with a frown, adding, "Again."

"No, I don't think it's horrible to dread the tour," she assured him. "It's a lot of work in a very small space of time, and no room to relax in. But it's the last one for a while, Jonny. You don't have anything else lined up yet." She considered him for a moment, wondering if he had thought it all through. "If you convince them you have a broken leg, you won't be able to get a Healer in. You might get unexpected visitors."

"Yes, well....Mataya and I have been talking about producing the film version of Michael's sequel. Mind you, we've only been talking about it, but things went pretty well with Alyson." Jon furrowed his brows at his wife, not quite getting her point. "What do you mean' What unexpected visitors?"

"You know what producers are like," she pointed out. "They might arrange for you to film a couple of pieces to camera that they can show at screenings if you can't be there."

"Oh!" He shrugged his shoulders. "That's not a big deal. You don't really want to go again, do you?" he asked. "Besides if I'm not there, Aimee will get more of the spotlight," he added with a slightly evil grin. It wasn't that he didn't love his fans or appreciate the adoration, but the tour was tiring and it was no secret that he wasn't fond of crowds.

"God, you know I hate those things almost as much as you do," she admitted. "Especially since I got banned from answering questions on the red carpet." She chuckled - that had been embarrassing for the studio that had produced the films, but in her defense, the presenter shouldn't have kept trying to trick Jon into saying he'd slept with Aimee.

"You're my bodyguard," he teased, a small smirk on his face. If his leg hadn't been in a splint and he didn't have a breakfast tray on his lap, she just might have gotten shagged right there and then, especially since they were alone for once. "I should hire you to be my manager," he teased, though she practically was that already.

She snorted with laughter. "Oh, please," she chuckled. "We both know I'd get you fired more than hired. I just can't keep my mouth shut when people get aggressive with you, that's all. And to be honest, that woman was lucky she didn't get her microphone shoved down her own throat."

He shrugged as if it really didn't matter. "They're paid to dish the dirt. Scandal sells papers, Vicki. If they can't find anything interesting to write, they make shit up. You know that." She probably knew it better than he did, having followed his career as closely as she had. Much of what had been written about him was untrue, at least, before he'd met her. The press could only push it so far though before they had a lawsuit on their hands.

"Well, she certainly got scooped that night." And wasn't Vicki proud of that' She didn't ordinarily like seeing pictures of herself in the magazines and papers, but apparently dressing down one of their own was newsworthy all around the world on that occasion. She grinned at her husband. "You know ....you're virtually helpless right now," she teased him affectionately. "I wouldn't even need to tie you up."

He gaped, shocked that his wife would take advantage of him in that way, but only for a moment before he was chuckling. "Don't you think I should at least finish my breakfast first?" he teased back at her, up for anything, so long as she didn't straddle his leg.

"Yes," she agreed laughingly. "Yes, you should definitely finish your breakfast. And then you get to practice on your crutches to the loo, because I couldn't get all the make up off your face last night and I don't want to use a scouring brush on you."

The thought of using the crutches made him frown, his thoughts momentarily drifting back to just after the shooting - when he'd woken up in a hospital bed with no memory of who he was or how'd he got there and had to practically relearn how to walk again. "Is the healer coming here or are we going there?" he asked, turning serious.

"The doctor is coming here, and bringing some equipment with him to take a good look at your leg," she assured him. "He'll be able to tell us if it's something that can be Healed, and if it can, we'll call Shipwright and get him to come over and wiggle his fingers at you. How is that for a plan?"

"Sounds reasonable," he replied, tossing a bit of uneaten toast onto his plate. No matter whether he had a broken leg or not, the tour was part of his contract, but there was an even more important event looming in the not-too-distant future. "What about the wedding?" he asked. "I'm not gonna miss the wedding, crutches or not."

"Of course you won't miss the wedding, don't be daft," Vicki chuckled. "Did you really think, even for a moment, that Dru would let a broken leg stand in the way of having her brother at her wedding" We could paint your crutches to match your suit, if you like."

"Yeah, but no one will know I'm her brother," he said with another frown. It was still a bit of a sore spot with him, though he understood the necessity of it, and it was for her good, not his. It was hard to stay moody with Vicki around, though, and he found himself chuckling at her suggestion. "Are you suggesting designer crutches, Mrs. Granger?" he teased back, with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Vicki!" Jon called, just before the sound of a loud crash came from the general vicinity of the bathroom. It wasn't the sound of a thump, like someone falling down, but more like the sound of something crashing onto the floor.

All credit to her, she was quick on her feet, even remembering to crack the door before pushing it open, just in case he was slumped on the other side of it. "Baby?" she asked, peering into the bathroom. "What happened?"

One crutch was on the floor, while the other lay across his lap, shower and shaving supplies strewn across the floor where they'd fallen as he'd attempted to get into the shower. He'd somehow managed to get his shirt halfway off and was sprawled on the floor with his splinted leg going one way, his good leg the other and looking like a small boy about to burst into tears.

Despite her tendency to laugh at everything, Vicki did have some sense of the inappropriate. Right now, laughing out loud would be bad, she decided. "Oh, sweetheart," she said softly, her voice full of compassion as she closed the door behind her, moving to try and help him set himself to rights a little. "Why didn't you call for me?"

"Because I wanted to do it myself!" he said, pouting, but allowing her to help him to his feet. His leg was throbbing again, but he was doing his best not to be a baby about it. "Maybe I should wait until the doctor gets here to try and take a shower," he mused aloud.

"Don't be daft," she told him fondly, edging around him to put the chair into the shower. She turned back to him, easing his boxers down his legs to his knees. "Twist and sit, love. There's no reason you can't do this yourself, if that's what you really want."

"I'm sorry, Vicki," he found himself apologizing, partly for being a pain and partly for breaking his leg in the first place. Despite his desire to skip the Fifty Shades... tour, he thought it would be better for everyone involved if they got a healer to mend his leg.

"Oh, stop that," she told him, waiting until he was on the chair before pulling his boxers off him entirely. Thankfully they had a decent plumbing system, which meant he wasn't splattered with freezing or boiling water as she turned the faucet. "Get started." She winked at him, turning away to begin stripping off her own clothes. There was, after all, one absolutely foolproof way to make Jon ease off on himself.

With Vicki's help, Jon managed to get into the shower and position himself on the chair, feeling ridiculously silly, though he figured it was just a matter of getting into some sort of routine. He let her strip him of his shorts and turned his attention to scrubbing himself clean, starting at the top and working his way down. He didn't quite notice the wink, not expecting her to join him. It seemed this was something she wanted him to do for himself.

It didn't take long before the door to the cubicle opened once again to admit his now gloriously nude wife, who bent down to kiss him as she eased the soap out of his hand. "No sulking," she told him softly, moving to straddle his thighs as she resumed soaping him up herself. "Or I might have to imprison you in here until you cheer up."

He gawked at her, obviously surprised to find she had joined him, but not unpleasantly so. "What are you doing?" he asked, though it was pretty obvious. "I thought you wanted me to do this myself," he said, brightening a little now that she'd joined him. He didn't want her pity, but he sure as hell wasn't going to turn down her help.

"Oh, do you want me to leave?" she asked him innocently, gently pressing closer as she ostensibly smoothed soap down his back. Of course, that put her in the perfect position to take advantage of a certain sensitive spot on his neck with lips that knew every inch of him intimately.

With her straddling his lap, it soon became apparent what effect she was having on him, even if she didn't mean to, and the touch of her lips against his neck wasn't helping matters any. He didn't need his crutches in here, hence his hands were free to roam at will and did so, palms sliding over the soft curves of her body from hips to breasts. "I'm not complaining!" he replied, not minding her joining him in the shower one bit.

She laughed, easing ever closer until they really were as close as a man and a woman could get, raising her head to kiss him tenderly. "Say what you like, but I love showering with you," she murmured teasingly, the soap forgotten as her body curled about his.

"Is that what we're doing?" he asking, arms sliding around her waist as she settled herself against him about as close as she could get. It felt divine to be so close to her, good enough that he almost forgot about the ache in his leg.

"We're both soapy and the shower's on," she pointed out with a grin, her nose circling his. "We should bring a chair in here more often." She snickered impishly, teasing his lips with her own. It was just as well Humphrey was used to giving it a good couple of hours after Jon and Vicki were done showering these days - the extra capacity hot water tank had been a good investment, too.

"If we have too much fun in here, the doctor won't think anything is wrong!" Jon pointed out with a smirk as he touched his nose to hers. She was going to have to do most of the work, as he couldn't get any leverage with one leg in a splint, but he doubted she'd mind. "Maybe I should break a leg more often."

"I'd rather have you in full working order, Mr. Granger," his wife informed him with a low laugh of her own, wickedly knowing hands beginning the well known and much loved exploration they knew would end with both of them putty in one another's hands.

He wasn't complaining. At least, this cloud had a silver lining. "Are you gonna stay home with me all day, Mrs. Granger?" he asked, knowing Mataya would only send her home if she was to show up at work while Jon was an invalid. "Because I can think of a few things we could do to pass the time."

"You really think I'd let you suffer all on your own with two children and a dog to chase after?" she asked him warmly, carefully not mentioning that virtually the first thing Mataya had said on the phone that morning was that Vicki was not welcome at the Shanachie until Jon was up and about again. The woman had a complex about making life as easy as possible for the families who worked for her, even when she herself was paying her adoptive daughter to look after her son while she and Max were on stage together for the next two weeks. "Well ....we have a few hours. And I do believe I am completely in your hands right at this moment."

The doctor turned out to be, yes, a woman, lugging a large carpet bag in one hand as she stepped into the room. She offered Vicki a polite smile, which turned into a look of adoring fanaticism for a brief moment as her gaze found Jon in the bed. "Oh, my giddy aunt, it is really is you!" she exclaimed, squealing like a little girl for a moment. Then she seemed to remember herself. "That is, um ....Hello, I'm Doctor Reynolds. What seems to be the problem?"

Jon rolled his eyes, almost but not quite groaning at the doctor's moment of weakness. Not another fan! Why in blazes had he ever agreed to do that stupid trilogy' Oh, right....The money. An obscene amount of the stuff, enough that he never had to work another day in his life, if he didn't want to. He glanced over at Vicki with a look that said it all, just as Cosmo decided to properly greet his master by jumping onto the bed.

"Oh, good grief." Vicki laughed, gesturing for the doctor to make her way over to the bed. "Cosmo, down!" The collie looked at her as though she had betrayed the whole of dog-kind with one order, but reluctantly got down, coming over to her to be reassured with lots of scritches. "The EMTs yesterday said that he's probably cracked his shin," she offered, as Dr. Reynolds uncovered Jon's splinted leg to take a look.

Thankfully, Jon was dressed, at least for the most part, though he sort of felt like a piece of meat on display for the doctor's perusal. He wondered if she was going to want an autograph by they time she was done. "Is it bad?" he asked, before the doctor even had a chance to examine his leg. Thankfully, Cosmo hadn't gotten so excited that he'd stepped all over it in his haste to greet his master.

Thankfully, despite her obvious fan-girl tendencies, the doctor was pretty professional, running gentle fingers over the offending limb, manipulating his ankle and knee as she examined him. "Well, it doesn't look too swollen, and there isn't any deformity that I can see," she mused thoughtfully, reaching into her bag and producing what looked like a two-way hand mirror. This, she held above Jon's shin, and a clear image of the bones in his lower leg made themselves known. "Hmm ....the EMT was right," she said thoughtfully. "You have a hairline fracture running the lateral length of your shin bone. How did you do it?"

"Deformed!" Jon echoed, looking horror-stricken, before realizing she'd said there wasn't any deformity. The word itself was not one any actor wanted to hear, especially one who was known for his looks. Thankfully, Vicki was there to calm him down. Even Cosmo put his two cents in with a bark in support of his master. Jon frowned as he was asked to relay the accident. "I, uh....I tripped on the stairs going up onto the stage," he told her, feeling like an idiot.

"It's very dark, the stairs are steep, and the space is small," Vicki added, finally allowing Cosmo onto the bed. The collie padded as calmly as he could to Jon's side, and thumped down, laying his head in his master's lap.

Dr. Reynolds nodded, half-smiling. "You would be surprised how many people break bones in innocuous ways in this city," she assured them. She hesitated for a moment, looking at Jon curiously. "You, uh, you have two choices here, Jo- Mr. Granger. You can wear a splint and use crutches for the next three weeks, after which I'll come back and check your progress, or I could Heal you now. You'd have a little weakness in your leg for a couple of days, but that will sort itself out without the need for further intervention."

"You can call me Jon," he corrected, oddly glad he had Cosmo on one side of him and Vicki on the other. They didn't call them man's best friend for nothing! Jon absently scritched at Cosmo's ears while the doctor explained his options. "What's the catch?" he asked, wondering why he was even being given a choice when the Healing was obviously the way to go.

"Catch?" The doctor looked genuinely confused by his query.

Vicki swallowed a laugh. "Sweetheart, you know what Tony and Anya are like when they get hurt?" she pointed out, reminding him that there were some people out there who outright refused to use healing magics when they were offered. "You're being given the choice because those are the options. There's no nefarious ulterior motive."

"Okay, well....If I have a choice, I'll take the Healing!" He frowned thoughtfully as he leaned toward the doctor, a slightly suspicious look on his face. "Are you sure there isn't any catch?"

For a moment, Dr. Reynolds looked shifty. "Um ....could you sign the splint for me?" she asked shyly, her face lighting up in a blush. It was just as well Vicki was working on not laughing out loud, or she might have embarrassed the poor doctor even further.

"See?" Jon said with a slightly smug grin. "I knew there was a catch!" Though it wasn't really much of a catch. He turned serious again, as he leaned back against the pillows. "I've been Healed before, but I don't remember much about it. Are you sure it'll work?"

The doctor nodded confidently. "It really is a minute crack in your shinbone," she assured him. "It's a very easy fix, but as your wife says, some people - especially dancers - prefer to allow their bodies to heal naturally. Are you sure you want this done today?"

"Why?" he asked, still not understanding why anyone would prefer to wait for something to heal naturally, knowing it would be more painful and take longer than if they were healed using magic. He looked confused for a moment. "Why wouldn't I want it done today?"

"I really don't know," Dr. Reynolds answered his first question, before looking a little panicky at the second. "Well, again, some people like to wait until the swelling has completely gone down, or to have a few hours to prepare themselves in advance. Honestly, I'm not trying to confuse you, I'm just trying to give you the choice."

"But will it make any difference if I wait?" he asked, not only needing to know his options, but the pros and cons of those options. So far, it seemed the Healing held more pros than cons.

"Waiting until the swelling goes down generally means that you won't be dealing with residual soft tissue pain for the next eight or so hours," the doctor told him. "But equally, it means you have another day or so of pain from the break itself."

"Healing," Vicki said firmly. "A big bruise is nothing to not being able to walk by yourself."

"Thanks," he said as he took the pen from Vicki, retaking a seat on the bed, not because he was in pain, but because it was just easier to sign something that way. "What would you like it to say?" he asked as he chose a spot on the program where he could scribble his signature, noticing Mataya had already graced the cover with her own John Hancock.

"Oh, I don't mind," the doctor assured him, jumping in surprise as Cosmo inserted his cold nose into the crook of her neck and licked her. Laughing, she gave him a gentle push. "I know you probably have to do a lot of them. It's just lovely to know I'll have both your signatures on the script that won you your Oscar."

"Yeah, wasn't gonna get one of those for playing Christian Grey, was I?" he remarked with a chuckle as he scribbled his name on the cover of the script, just below Mataya's. "You know, if you want, I can get you a couple of seats at the premiere in a few weeks," he said, as if it wasn't a big deal.

Vicki just about managed not to laugh as Dr. Reynold's mouth dropped open. The woman couldn't have looked as simultaneously delighted and incredulous if she had tried. "You'd do that?" she asked in astonishment. "They're all sold out, and they were so expensive to begin with ....are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure. At least, I think I'm sure. We had a couple extras, didn't we, Vic?" he asked his wife as he handed the script back to the lady doctor with his signature scrawled across it, along with a brief but cordial dedication.

"Yes, we do," Vicki nodded, thumping back down onto the bed to wrestle with Cosmo while Jon was making his doctor blush fire-engine red with delight. "If you give us your address, we can have them couriered over to you."

This, it seemed, was one detail too many - the good doctor was now speechless, staring at both of them as her mouth worked silently.

"I was also thinking....It might be good to have a healer on hand, just in case something like this happens again," he said, addressing both his wife and Dr. Reynolds. He knew he'd had a regular Healer once upon a time, but he'd lost track of her years ago.

"Well, Shipwright Carter comes here most often, doesn't he?" the doctor asked, slightly confused yet again, even as she hugged her newly signed script to her chest.

"He's been present both times when I've given birth, but I've not seen him around at any other time," Vicki offered, giving Cosmo a push off the bed now he had ascertained that all was right with the world.

"It's just a thought," Jon remarked with a shrug. "We have a doctor, but we don't really have a regular Healer," he pointed out, and there was no arguing she was good at what she did, as evidenced by Jon's leg. It wasn't that he wasn't planning on paying her either; he was just being his warm, generous self.

"A-are you really offering to put me on the staff of Maple Grove?" Dr. Reynolds asked, clearly a little overwhelmed. "Forgive me, but it seems a bit of an over-reaction when all I've done is heal your leg."

"Not without my Uncle's approval, but if I ever need a Healing again, you're the first one I'm going to call," he promised with a smile, though whether he actually did or not would have to be seen.

"Thank you." Reassured that she wasn't suddenly going to be thrown into the quandary of giving notice at her two jobs and finding a way to travel quickly back and forth to the Granger estate on a regular basis, Dr. Reynolds relaxed, bending to tuck the script safely into her bag before adding the splint as well. "Well, I'm very glad I could be of assistance, Mr. Granger. I would recommend soaking your leg for a while in warm water, and to carry on taking painkillers until the morning. If there are any complications, or if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to contact me."

"You don't want me to autograph the splint?" he asked with a smirk, knowing he had just confused the hell out of the good lady doctor, but at least, he wasn't being a jerk. "Thank you, Dr. Reynolds," he countered, offering a hand to the woman, warmly and politely. Let it not be said that Jonathan Granger wasn't friendly.

"Well, no, I should really use it for other patients," she admitted, finally cracking a quiet laugh as she shook his hand. "Thank you so much for your autograph, it really does mean a lot to have it. I hope you have a good weekend, and that you survive the wedding and the tour."

He chuckled, at the admission that she really didn't want him to sign the splint, after all. "Thank you again. Hopefully, we'll see you at the premiere!"

"If you can get me tickets, I will definitely be there," she assured them, smiling as Vicki rose to her feet to walk the doctor out. Jon was left alone with Cosmo for a few minutes, to celebrate having his leg back under his own control.

"What do you think, Cosmo' Almost as good as new!" Jon asked his dog, almost expecting an answer, while Vicki walked Dr. Reynolds out. His mood had vastly improved since earlier, and why shouldn't it' He'd had breakfast in bed, gotten laid twice, his leg had been healed, he had a day off work, and a fan had recognized him for Swan Song. All in all it had been a good morning, despite the pain.

As soon as Vicki was out of the room, Cosmo jumped up on the bed again, barging into Jon to pin him down and cover his face with doggy kisses. Evidently his altercation with Vicki over why he shouldn't be trying to take Jon's splint off in the small hours of the morning had worried the collie more than they could have imagined.

By the time Vicki got back, Jon was laughing as the collie covered him in doggy kisses. "All right, all right! I love you, too!" he told the dog, running his fingers through the dog's fur, Cosmo's tail wagging happily.

She leaned in the doorway, arms wrapped about herself as she grinned at the two supposedly adult men in her life wrestling on the bed, one wagging his tail with delight. "Should I leave you two alone for a while?" she teased warmly, laughing when, the moment she spoke, Cosmo leaped down off the bed and endeavored to look as though he hadn't been up there with Jon at all.

Jon laughed at Cosmo's reaction to Vicki's arrival. "He's afraid of you!" he pointed out. "Afraid of big bad Victoria Granger," he added, with a teasing grin. As for himself, he was a pushover where Cosmo was concerned and always had been, but the bed really was no place for a dog.

"Just like the children," she grinned, crouching down beside the bed. Cosmo, who knew when he was being offered love, bullied his way under her arm and licked her ear, tail wagging once again. Vicki looked up at Jon. "So what is the plan now, Hop-Along?" she asked him cheerfully. "We've got a couple of hours before 'Taya delivers Ben back."

Jon chuckled at the nickname, though it didn't really apply anymore now that he was mostly Healed. "Oh, I think maybe I can think of a thing or two," he said with a smirk, though he'd already gotten laid twice that morning already.

"Feeling the need to assert your manly dominance there, stud muffin?" Vicki teased, rising to her feet before she got swimmer's ear from all the love Cosmo was giving her.

He laughed at the love being handed out by Cosmo, as well as the remark by his wife. "Unless you'd rather spend the next hour or so snuggling with someone a little more furry than myself," he teased.

"I'd rather do illegal things with you than with him," she laughed back at her husband, smoothing her fingers through the dark curls she loved so much as she leaned against the bed. "Something tells me you've got something nefariously fun on your mind, Jonathan Granger."

"Illegal, eh?" he asked with a playful twinkle in his eyes and a that teasing smirk on his face. "Do you want me to pretend I'm Christian Grey?" he asked, alluding to the kinky sex scenes in both the book and the movie. That would definitely require him to assert his manly dominance.

She snorted with laughter. "Now why would I want to sleep with Christian Grey when I have Jon Granger right here?" she pointed out warmly, twisting to straddle his lap yet again as she leaned down to kiss him. "I happen to think my husband is much, much more manly than any two-dimensional fictional character."

Jon smiled up at his wife, letting her take the lead as long as she wanted. They had two hours to kill, and so long as Cosmo let them, he doubted they'd have any trouble finding something to wile away the hours. How nefarious or illegal that something might be was nobody's business but theirs. If Jon and Vicki's lives were a movie, this would be where it faded to black, leaving it to the audience to imagine just how they choose to make use of those precious two hours of time.

((Healed up and ready for action! Just in time, too ....there's a royal wedding next week!))