This is a follow up to Charlotte C Hill's C/B, C/JD story 'First Date', set in Fiercy's Escorts universe, and which is itself a followup to Stan Lee's 'JD's Story' both of which I urge you to read first. Thanks go to Charlotte for reading this over and offering her comments to such good effect that the story doubled in size. Thank you!


"So?"

"So," JD shrugged, "Mr. Harmon was okay." He carefully hooked his jacket over the back of a chair, and said, "I'm gonna get a shower."

Six pairs of eyes followed him with varying degrees of worry in them.

"Harmon said he was fine," Buck said accusingly, and Chris flicked an irritated glance at him.

"Why would he say any different? Hell, even if he knew, why would he care what the kid felt about it?" Vin pointed out, unnecessarily. "I'm wondering if--"

"Let him be," Josiah said quietly, but definitely. "Let him think out whatever is troubling him, and let him come to us."

"But what if Scott was--"

"Buck."

"But Chris, he could--"

"Buck, calm *down*."

"I am calm," he insisted. "I'm just a little -- concerned."

Chris looked around the room, seeing the anxiety in every pair of eyes that he knew was reflected in his own. "When he's ready."

----------------------------

JD stared at the wall. It was strange how plain cream tiles could morph under his very eyes into filthy bricks, and back again, water running easily down the ceramic as the shower pounded on his back.

Strange.

He felt almost as disconnected as the first time.

Ezra had called it a first date, and Harmon would have been a good 'first date'. First working for the team. That was what counted. He scrubbed harder, soaping up thoroughly, cleaning himself until he could feel nothing but water, smell nothing but soap, washing his hair until it squeaked, then carefully combing conditioner through, letting it sink in as he'd been told. The water was hot and needled into his shoulders. He twisted slowly, letting it drive out the tension there.

They'd understand. He knew they would understand. They'd had it as bad, some of them. Worse, some of them. Somehow, that made it harder. Made him feel like he was being selfish, making a mountain out of a molehill. As though his experiences could never be new, or unique, or important to anyone; as though they shouldn't even be important to him. This was his first date now. Forget the past.

The tiles shifted again, and he remembered the heat of the day, slow to fade in the still grasp of the narrow evening streets. He remembered... so hungry, so angry, so desperate.

The guy had been cruising. Maybe he was looking for fresh meat. Maybe that was why he'd pulled up by JD and looked at him, *through* him, not seeing his loose muscle shirt, or the cut off shorts. Looking at his skin, and the plane of his chest, and the curve of his ass with a look that felt physical. He didn't know why he'd leaned in, told himself he hadn't really known what he was doing as he showed off his almost naked body.

"You looking for a friend?"

The words had come from someone else's mouth. Some other whore, working the streets, who was never going to be anything else, who was only ever going to be street trash. Not him. He could go somewhere, do something. Make something of his life, and even as he tried to believe that he was sliding into the car, agreeing a price. Following him away from the car into a back alley, having his shorts pulled down, staring at bricks as hard meat found him, filled him, ruined him.

Fucked him with hard thrusts and soft grunts until the man was leaning on his back, breathing hard, while JD was still trying to breathe away the blinding pain of entry. And then, scant seconds later, without any hint that he considered JD more than a convenient hole, he pulled out, and slid a fifty into JD's hand, and walked away. He was still staring at bricks as he heard the man zip up, heard the soft wet sound of the condom being thrown away, hitting the ground at his feet, joining a hundred like it as he blindly pulled his shorts up from around his knees and closed them up. Pushed the bill into his pocket, wincing as the movement dragged the seam deep into his crease.

The beginning of the end. He shook his head violently and water ran down the tiles. It hadn't been bad. God, it could have been so much worse. *Had* been so much worse. There had been days that he would have cried with gratitude for an anonymous, vanilla ass-fucking, lube or no lube. But that was something else; it had happened to someone else.

Here and now, he was sluicing conditioner that cost thirty dollars a bottle out of his hair. Wrapping towels softer and thirstier than anything he had imagined was possible around himself. In a kind of daze he carefully brushed and flossed, smiling so he could see even white teeth that hadn't been nearly so pretty four weeks ago. Cleansed. Moisturized. Worked his way through the whole routine that told him, this is now. This is real. Because not even in his dreams had he ever used moisturizer, or carefully tousled stuff from small, expensive pots through his black hair, working from back to front.

He had never had a bathroom that didn't stink of piss. Or an apartment that spread out before him as he stood in the doorway of the bathroom, dvds and magazines scattered in heaps by a huge, over stuffed sofa, cds by the stereo, the smell of food snaking its way up the stairs, from a kitchen without roaches. A life without privation.

Harmon had been good. Easy. More money than he had ever seen at one time, Buck's generosity notwithstanding, slipped into his pocket discreetly, and as a tip -- not his fee, his fee would be paid directly to the company -- three hundred dollars on top of three thousand, for sitting in a quiet, elegant apartment; talking to a smart, quick thinking, powerful guy. For stripping off and --

He closed his eyes, not understanding why they burned so. Maybe the moisturizer had got into them.

It had been a good 'first date'.

-------------------

"Sit down." Ezra snapped at Buck, and Chris suppressed a grin. Buck was wandering in a vague circle, drifting between peering up the stairs, to wandering into the kitchen to stare at nothing, to sitting with one or other of them, and then jumping up and starting over again.

"I'm just--"

Chris rolled his eyes. Harmon was a nice enough guy; had paid the asking price without a qualm, which had made him wish that he'd upped it to five as Ezra had told him. JD would have been fine. Mike had picked him up on time.

And abruptly he wanted to just check the kid over for bruises.

"Dammit, Buck, sit *down*," he snapped, and Buck paused and looked at him, and was halfway to sitting down beside him when they all heard a door upstairs open and close, and all eyes snapped up to the stairs, and as quickly, looked away again, and Josiah and Ezra resumed a strained conversation about censorship in the media, and the effects of spin.

Vin was flipping relentlessly through channels. Nathan commenting whenever he paused long enough to see what was on with derisive jibes about Vin's taste in television. And Buck was looking at him, with an intensity that made him look up, look deeper, Buck's eyes, his heart and soul the only thing in the world, trying to give as much back. Buck's face softened and he opened his mouth to speak, as JD paused at the foot of the stairs.

His eyes flickered around the others, not meeting anyone's gaze, and Chris remembered how Buck would refuse to meet his eyes, once. Was so hurt by what he had done, had to do to survive, that he felt worthless, not worthy of even simple friendship, much less the love that he had, in his eyes, violated. Sometimes he still felt it. They both did. But they always met each other's eyes. He swallowed, realizing what that long look had been about. Buck had figured it out before he had.

"Hey," Vin called over, "Nathan says that Kerrang's just a noise machine."

"Poor excuse for a noise machine," Nathan corrected with a wink at the kid from where he sat on the other side of Vin. Vin patted the seat next him.

JD forced a grin and a quick look at the tv, where the music channel was blaring some bizarre video, full of too thin girls and men who couldn't dance. "And that's a bad thing?" he quipped, and dropped onto the sofa by Vin. Buck promptly pushed himself onto the sofa too, cramming his long body into a space meant for three.

"Sure it's a bad thing," Nathan said cheerfully, "Get enough noise around this place, without adding to it." He snatched the remote from Vin's hand and picked out a number, and suddenly the screen showed a flickering fireplace.

"Nathan!"

"It's very soothing," Josiah threw in over Vin and JD's protests.

"How you doing, kid?" Buck asked softly, under cover of the argument building between Vin, Josiah and Nathan.

JD looked at him for a moment, and then, to Chris's surprise, over at him. For a second the hazel eyes looked almost green, and Chris wondered if he'd imagined the kid looking his way as he smiled at Buck and said, "I'm good." He nodded, "Yeah. Pretty good."

"Yeah? Tell Uncle Buck all about it."

JD laughed, and Chris saw Ezra's head turn at the brittle sound, Vin slip an arm casually over the kid's shoulder.

"Nah. Harmon's a, a good 'first date'." He looked at Ezra, and Ezra nodded at him.

"I have every faith in you," Ezra said quietly, and JD laughed more naturally.

"You didn't yesterday."

Ezra grinned at him, "Yesterday you needed to feel I was watching your every move. Today," he shrugged.

"What's up, kid," Vin said quietly, and everyone held still, held their breath. But JD just looked up, and smiled around them.

"Nothing. Just, just, glad I'm here. Wishin' it could have really been like that the first time." He ducked his head. "Nothing important."

Chris flinched.

"Yeah," Vin said easily. "I know how that feels."

JD looked up and Chris wasn't sure if he was trying to smile, or not to cry, but the smile won out, and the kid said softly. "Yeah. Yeah, I thought that might be--"

Buck was looking strained, and JD leaned against him, hesitated. Then pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thanks, Buck." He ducked his head back down and Buck shook his head, and dragged the kid up onto his lap, and hugged him hard, and JD hugged him back, his head tucked into Buck's neck. Buck's eyes met Chris's again, and he searched for the memories, the pain, and found them, but muted in the happiness of having saved one, just one, even if it was for this life. And it wasn't a bad life, Buck's eyes said, and he watched a little longer, still uncertain, until Buck shook his head at him, and grinned.

No, it wasn't a bad life.

-----------------

Later, Josiah had insisted he ate. He'd intended to grab a plate of whatever was in the fridge, but Josiah had asked him what he'd like, and when he'd stumbled, had offered omelet, or soup and fresh bread, or grilled sandwiches clearly expecting him to pick one. So he'd asked for tomato soup and fresh bread.

He was going to eat at the table, keep the soup well away from the furniture, but Josiah had carried the tray, over his protests, into the living area. Nathan had relented, and they were watching some soccer match from Japan; the rules a mystery to everyone but Ezra, the commentary, in Japanese, a mystery to everyone but Josiah, who couldn't be as good at it as he'd assured everyone from the way he kept shaking his head and muttering that can't be right.

He laughed outright as Vin threw a cushion at Ezra, trying to stop him from explaining the rules.

"Something about the flower of the half wind green," Josiah mumbled, and JD tried to smother his laughter when Josiah mumbled in betrayed tones, "et tu, Brute?"

JD made a long arm across Vin to Nathan, stealing the remote for himself. Moments later there were howls of protest as he put the English subtitles up.

"That takes all the fun out of it!" Josiah complained, but nonetheless started reading off the translation instead of attempting his own.

"I think I liked the old way better," Chris drawled and when JD looked over, winked at him. Josiah's commentary was getting increasingly frenzied, over Ezra's complaints that he was getting it wrong.

"Offside! That was offside! What the hell was he thinking -- shut up Josiah, that's not what happened--"

"The ball is out of play," Josiah said over him, a good four seconds after the ball was back in play.

"It's not out of play! You just have to look at the screen, you idiot!" And JD and Chris shared another look, this one rich with the memory of that same, smoothly pedantic voice, and they both grinned. "Look, it's perfectly obvious, Makaneiko took the corner and -- "

"Why don't they just pick it up and run?" Buck asked brightly, and everyone groaned, except Ezra, who turned slowly, stood, and stalked towards him.

JD laughed. These guys were crazy, he'd never known anyone like them. Never known anything like them, and he was damned glad he did, as Vin grinned at him, and joined in teasing Ezra; and Chris dropped his head resignedly into Buck's shoulder, then smirked wickedly, his hands slipping between them and distracting Buck from baiting Ezra for a few seconds; and Ezra took advantage of those seconds to pounce on Chris and Buck and muffle Buck with a thorough kiss; and Josiah took the crockery, humming something interspersed with what might have been Japanese, back out to the kitchen, while Nathan plugged his ears with his fingers.

He was warm, full, happy. He eyed Vin thoughtfully, and figured, what the hell?

And that was warm, and full, and happy too.

M7 Slash page

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the fandoms listed herein. I am certainly making no money off of these creative fan tributes to a wonderful, fun show.