StarlightBright
Telly Talk Newbie
Summary:
He threw his briefcase on a hallway table with more force than was necessary, then yanked off his jacket before starting on his tie with sharp, jerky movements.
“Josie! You know I love…,” he stopped mid-sentence. Even after all these years of marriage, saying he loved the Ewings as a whole felt like swallowing glass, and he couldn’t force those words out of his mouth. “You know I tolerate your family reasonably well, but I just have one question. Did your brother ever have anything approaching a normal human thought, or was he just born missing…”
The complaint died on his lips the moment he reached their bedroom doorway. She was there, alright, but instead of wearing the silk slip—or preferably less—that he'd been fantasizing about during the drive home (right after his fantasy of throwing JR out his office window had finally faded), she was wearing an elegant, gauzy pink dress that screamed Ewing Dinner . Her dark hair was swept up on one side and secured with some kind of jeweled clip that probably cost more than his first car. Her makeup was perfect and what he'd learned to recognize as "appropriate for Southfork."
He knew exactly what that meant without her saying a word.
“Oh, hell, no!” The words slipped out before he could contain them. He just couldn’t do the Ewing family dinner tonight. Not after the day JR had put him through.
“Mama says it’s important,” Josie said, meeting his eyes in the mirror with that apologetic look that never failed to twist something painful in his chest. She knew. She always knew how to get to him, had known since they were sixteen and she'd first smiled at him across their high school study hall.
“No, Josie,” His voice dropped to the same persuasive rumble he used in court when facing hostile witnesses, or when trying to talk JR out of his most destructive schemes. “I cannot spend one more minute with your brother without one of us ending up in the emergency room. And Darlin’, I’m honestly not sure which one of us it’ll be anymore.”
She turned away from the mirror, looking at him with sympathy, or possibly guilt, in her blue eyes. The same eyes that had held him captive since junior year. The same eyes that had made him fall in love with a Ewing of all people.
"Besides," he said, pulling his tie off and letting it drop carelessly to the floor, "I had very specific plans for tonight that involved a lot less clothing and absolutely zero Ewings."
He reached for her, pulling her up from the vanity bench, wrapping an arm around her waist, kissing her with a desperate hunger, born of needing to forget about oil contracts, boardrooms, and JR being… JR.
“I’m a Ewing,” she teased against his lips, before he kissed down her neck.
“You’re a Barnes now,” he murmured against her skin, his lips finding that spot that always made her breath catch. “Want me to go dig up our marriage license to prove it?”
She laughed that low, musical laugh that he loved, but pushed him away gently, just enough to create space to start unbuttoning his shirt with practiced fingers.
“That’s more like it,” He grinned, feeling some of the day’s tension start to fade.
“Don’t get too excited, Cowboy.” Her fingers paused, and her tone made his stomach drop. "Mama specifically asked for you to come tonight. By name."
The careful, cautious way she said it told him everything. Miss Ellie wouldn’t summon him to dinner unless it was serious. Legal serious. Everyone knew that the Ewing corporate lawyers also handled their private affairs. What everyone didn’t know was that it meant that Cliff handled all their personal affairs.
Seeing as how that usually meant handling JR’s affairs, literally and figuratively, this just made his already complicated job as JR’s unwilling handler seem damn near impossible.
“Aw, hell,” he muttered as his fantasies of a quiet night with his wife disappeared like smoke. “What’s the bastard done this time?”
"It's not about JR," she said, resuming her work on his shirt buttons with deliberate calm..
"Yeah, right."
"No, really. Mama swore it wasn't about JR," she said, finishing the last button and sliding the shirt off his shoulders.
He stepped back, unbuttoning the cuffs, jerking his shirt off completely, and tossing it in a nearby chair. He'd deal with the wrinkles later, assuming he survived whatever fresh hell awaited him at Southfork..
“It’s always about JR,” he said, walking into their walk-in closet to pick out another button-down shirt and jacket. Getting dressed for dinner at Southfork always felt like a ritual, like putting on armor. And strangely, that always seemed to calm him about these affairs.
He pulled on the fresh shirt and walked back into the bedroom, tossing the jacket onto their bed as he methodically buttoned and tucked the shirt into his pants. Everything had to be perfect for the Ewings, even for dinner. God forbid Cliff Barnes show up looking anything less than the perfect son-in-law.
Josie was putting her earrings on and looking through her jewelry box for her string of pearls she always wore to dinners at her parents’ house. He guessed she had her armor too.
“So, what is it about then?” he asked, watching her in the mirror.
“Mama didn’t say.” The way she avoided his eyes told him she suspected more than she was letting on.
He sighed deeply. Every question she answered just made this night sound worse and worse, like watching a tornado approaching.
“But she did promise not to ask you any legal questions until you’ve had a glass of wine.”
“No wine,” he said, shrugging into his jacket with sharp, efficient movements. "If I'm going to survive tonight without strangling anyone, I'm going to need something considerably stronger. Like whiskey. Or pure grain alcohol."
“Daddy has some moonshine,” she supplied cheerfully, finally meeting his eyes with a mischievous grin. “He keeps it hidden out in the barn office, but he’d probably slip you a shot if you ask nicely.”
He retrieved his tie from the floor where he'd dropped it earlier and looped it around his neck, leaving it untied for the moment.
Josie had found her pearls by then, crossing to him and holding them out with a small smile. “Help?”
He took the strand as she turned around, lifting her dark hair off the nape of her neck. Unable to resist, he pulled her back against his chest, placing a soft kiss on that sensitive spot just below her hairline, smiling as he felt her shiver in response. He fastened the necklace with the practiced ease that came from doing it hundreds of times for hundreds of dinners over the years, then slid his hands down to rest at her waist while letting her hair fall back into place. He kissed her neck again, slowly, deliberately.
“So, is there any chance I can convince you to stay home?” he whispered against her skin. “Or at least be fashionably late?”
“They’d just come looking for us,” she laughed, the sound vibrating against his lips. She turned in his arms to face him, her fingers automatically reaching for his untied tie. "You're wearing this tie again?"
She started twisting the silk into a proper knot with the same practiced ease he’d shown with her necklace.
“Oh yes," he answered, his voice dropping to that low, intimate tone that was reserved just for her. "I have very specific plans for this tie later tonight. Plans that involve you wearing nothing but this tie. So I want to keep it handy."
Her cheeks flushed that delicate pink that never failed to make his pulse quicken, even after thirteen years of marriage. She finished adjusting his tie, smoothing it down with a gentle pat against his chest.
“You are terrible,” she mumbled, but her smile was pure invitation for him to keep going.
“And you love it,” he replied, stealing one more kiss before reluctantly stepping back, reality creeping in, breaking the spell. “Let’s go see what new schemes your family has cooked up for me tonight.”
She picked up her small evening bag from the dresser, letting him lead her with a hand at the small of her back. At the bedroom door, he gave one last look at their immaculately made bed, wishing they could stay there for the evening, forgetting the Ewings, the Barnes, oil, cattle, and the whole damn world for a night.
“Last chance to fake a sudden illness,” he offered, hopefully.
“Nice try, Counselor.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him from the room and down the hallway. “Besides, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get home and you can show me those plans you were talking about.”
“Now you’re talking,” he replied, stopping to grab his car keys from the hall table.
The cold, crisp air hit him as soon as they stepped out the door. Almost like a warning to go back inside and tell Jock to call Harv about this one. Whatever was waiting for them at Southfork, he had a sinking feeling it was about to make their simple evening very complicated.
Five minutes to Southfork. Not nearly enough time to prepare for whatever new chapter in the Barnes-Ewing saga awaited him. He just hoped this time, it wouldn't involve lawyers, oil rights, or decades-old family feuds.
It had been an absolutely grueling day, and the only things Cliff Barnes wanted were a beer and to take a shower. With his wife. Hell, he might even pull a page out of his old man’s book and drink the beer in the shower.He threw his briefcase on a hallway table with more force than was necessary, then yanked off his jacket before starting on his tie with sharp, jerky movements.
“Josie! You know I love…,” he stopped mid-sentence. Even after all these years of marriage, saying he loved the Ewings as a whole felt like swallowing glass, and he couldn’t force those words out of his mouth. “You know I tolerate your family reasonably well, but I just have one question. Did your brother ever have anything approaching a normal human thought, or was he just born missing…”
The complaint died on his lips the moment he reached their bedroom doorway. She was there, alright, but instead of wearing the silk slip—or preferably less—that he'd been fantasizing about during the drive home (right after his fantasy of throwing JR out his office window had finally faded), she was wearing an elegant, gauzy pink dress that screamed Ewing Dinner . Her dark hair was swept up on one side and secured with some kind of jeweled clip that probably cost more than his first car. Her makeup was perfect and what he'd learned to recognize as "appropriate for Southfork."
He knew exactly what that meant without her saying a word.
“Oh, hell, no!” The words slipped out before he could contain them. He just couldn’t do the Ewing family dinner tonight. Not after the day JR had put him through.
“Mama says it’s important,” Josie said, meeting his eyes in the mirror with that apologetic look that never failed to twist something painful in his chest. She knew. She always knew how to get to him, had known since they were sixteen and she'd first smiled at him across their high school study hall.
“No, Josie,” His voice dropped to the same persuasive rumble he used in court when facing hostile witnesses, or when trying to talk JR out of his most destructive schemes. “I cannot spend one more minute with your brother without one of us ending up in the emergency room. And Darlin’, I’m honestly not sure which one of us it’ll be anymore.”
She turned away from the mirror, looking at him with sympathy, or possibly guilt, in her blue eyes. The same eyes that had held him captive since junior year. The same eyes that had made him fall in love with a Ewing of all people.
"Besides," he said, pulling his tie off and letting it drop carelessly to the floor, "I had very specific plans for tonight that involved a lot less clothing and absolutely zero Ewings."
He reached for her, pulling her up from the vanity bench, wrapping an arm around her waist, kissing her with a desperate hunger, born of needing to forget about oil contracts, boardrooms, and JR being… JR.
“I’m a Ewing,” she teased against his lips, before he kissed down her neck.
“You’re a Barnes now,” he murmured against her skin, his lips finding that spot that always made her breath catch. “Want me to go dig up our marriage license to prove it?”
She laughed that low, musical laugh that he loved, but pushed him away gently, just enough to create space to start unbuttoning his shirt with practiced fingers.
“That’s more like it,” He grinned, feeling some of the day’s tension start to fade.
“Don’t get too excited, Cowboy.” Her fingers paused, and her tone made his stomach drop. "Mama specifically asked for you to come tonight. By name."
The careful, cautious way she said it told him everything. Miss Ellie wouldn’t summon him to dinner unless it was serious. Legal serious. Everyone knew that the Ewing corporate lawyers also handled their private affairs. What everyone didn’t know was that it meant that Cliff handled all their personal affairs.
Seeing as how that usually meant handling JR’s affairs, literally and figuratively, this just made his already complicated job as JR’s unwilling handler seem damn near impossible.
“Aw, hell,” he muttered as his fantasies of a quiet night with his wife disappeared like smoke. “What’s the bastard done this time?”
"It's not about JR," she said, resuming her work on his shirt buttons with deliberate calm..
"Yeah, right."
"No, really. Mama swore it wasn't about JR," she said, finishing the last button and sliding the shirt off his shoulders.
He stepped back, unbuttoning the cuffs, jerking his shirt off completely, and tossing it in a nearby chair. He'd deal with the wrinkles later, assuming he survived whatever fresh hell awaited him at Southfork..
“It’s always about JR,” he said, walking into their walk-in closet to pick out another button-down shirt and jacket. Getting dressed for dinner at Southfork always felt like a ritual, like putting on armor. And strangely, that always seemed to calm him about these affairs.
He pulled on the fresh shirt and walked back into the bedroom, tossing the jacket onto their bed as he methodically buttoned and tucked the shirt into his pants. Everything had to be perfect for the Ewings, even for dinner. God forbid Cliff Barnes show up looking anything less than the perfect son-in-law.
Josie was putting her earrings on and looking through her jewelry box for her string of pearls she always wore to dinners at her parents’ house. He guessed she had her armor too.
“So, what is it about then?” he asked, watching her in the mirror.
“Mama didn’t say.” The way she avoided his eyes told him she suspected more than she was letting on.
He sighed deeply. Every question she answered just made this night sound worse and worse, like watching a tornado approaching.
“But she did promise not to ask you any legal questions until you’ve had a glass of wine.”
“No wine,” he said, shrugging into his jacket with sharp, efficient movements. "If I'm going to survive tonight without strangling anyone, I'm going to need something considerably stronger. Like whiskey. Or pure grain alcohol."
“Daddy has some moonshine,” she supplied cheerfully, finally meeting his eyes with a mischievous grin. “He keeps it hidden out in the barn office, but he’d probably slip you a shot if you ask nicely.”
He retrieved his tie from the floor where he'd dropped it earlier and looped it around his neck, leaving it untied for the moment.
Josie had found her pearls by then, crossing to him and holding them out with a small smile. “Help?”
He took the strand as she turned around, lifting her dark hair off the nape of her neck. Unable to resist, he pulled her back against his chest, placing a soft kiss on that sensitive spot just below her hairline, smiling as he felt her shiver in response. He fastened the necklace with the practiced ease that came from doing it hundreds of times for hundreds of dinners over the years, then slid his hands down to rest at her waist while letting her hair fall back into place. He kissed her neck again, slowly, deliberately.
“So, is there any chance I can convince you to stay home?” he whispered against her skin. “Or at least be fashionably late?”
“They’d just come looking for us,” she laughed, the sound vibrating against his lips. She turned in his arms to face him, her fingers automatically reaching for his untied tie. "You're wearing this tie again?"
She started twisting the silk into a proper knot with the same practiced ease he’d shown with her necklace.
“Oh yes," he answered, his voice dropping to that low, intimate tone that was reserved just for her. "I have very specific plans for this tie later tonight. Plans that involve you wearing nothing but this tie. So I want to keep it handy."
Her cheeks flushed that delicate pink that never failed to make his pulse quicken, even after thirteen years of marriage. She finished adjusting his tie, smoothing it down with a gentle pat against his chest.
“You are terrible,” she mumbled, but her smile was pure invitation for him to keep going.
“And you love it,” he replied, stealing one more kiss before reluctantly stepping back, reality creeping in, breaking the spell. “Let’s go see what new schemes your family has cooked up for me tonight.”
She picked up her small evening bag from the dresser, letting him lead her with a hand at the small of her back. At the bedroom door, he gave one last look at their immaculately made bed, wishing they could stay there for the evening, forgetting the Ewings, the Barnes, oil, cattle, and the whole damn world for a night.
“Last chance to fake a sudden illness,” he offered, hopefully.
“Nice try, Counselor.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him from the room and down the hallway. “Besides, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get home and you can show me those plans you were talking about.”
“Now you’re talking,” he replied, stopping to grab his car keys from the hall table.
The cold, crisp air hit him as soon as they stepped out the door. Almost like a warning to go back inside and tell Jock to call Harv about this one. Whatever was waiting for them at Southfork, he had a sinking feeling it was about to make their simple evening very complicated.
Five minutes to Southfork. Not nearly enough time to prepare for whatever new chapter in the Barnes-Ewing saga awaited him. He just hoped this time, it wouldn't involve lawyers, oil rights, or decades-old family feuds.