Never Forever

[lslines]

Title: Never Forever
Artist: lizas_lines
Rating: PG
Series: Jeanette
Pairing: Mano Jeanette x Joanne Myer
Claimer: The characters are mine, however the story is based off a song that is not mine.
Authors Notes: Phwee. I Like writing Joey, because I hate her. And yet I love her at the same time.  Written for 20_songs; Feelin' Way Too Damn Good - Nickelback

Mano woke in a bed he couldn’t remember seeing before, to the sight of a ceiling he’d never seen before, and when he rolled over the view out the window was unfamiliar. He sat up, hand flying up to his forehead, eyesight blurry and head throbbing. Headache—hangover maybe, but he couldn’t remember. His throat and tongue were dry and there was a bad taste in his mouth. Toothpaste was needed. And—he sniffed—a shower. Slowly, he began to calm down. That’s right, he thought to himself, start with the things you know, then reach for the memories. But when he heard a mumble to his right and someone pulled all the blankets off him, the things he knew were suddenly of no importance and the fragmented memories of the last forty-eight hours rushed to his aid.

 

Hotel room. New York City. Dance competition. First place…

 

Joanne.

 

He wound his fingers through his messy hair and slowly turned to find himself gazing at the naked, sleeping form of his ex-girlfriend. She was curled into the empty space where he had been sleeping moments ago, fists clutching at the blankets, eyes closed, knees drawn up to her chest, lips parted slightly. He stared. What?

 

I miss you. Just one week, then we’ll go back to our own lives.

 

But your sister…if she finds out, she’ll kill me.

 

She’ll never know.

 

He dropped his head into his hands and smiled. “Oh Lord, Mano, what have you done this time?”

 

Glancing once again at the sleeping woman, he pulled back his blankets and headed towards the bathroom. He could really use a shower, and having some time to himself, alone under the water, he might be able to remember some more. At the rate his memory was piecing itself together, he decided he was definitely hung over. Nothing else but drugs would have hit him quite so hard and he was sure he hadn’t taken, or even been slipped, anything. He stumbled over something in the hallway and looked down to see an empty wine bottle spin into the wall. Mmm. Hung over.

 

Turning on the heater, he looked at himself in the mirror. Dark rings around his eyes, stubble on his chin, hair messy as a birds nest; he looked like hell. Mildly disgusted by himself, he turned the taps on and stepped under the warmth of the spray. In a few moments the glass had fogged up nicely. He reached for his toothbrush without thinking. This whole experience was like some kind of dream. Joanne, New York, ritzy hotel, trophy on the bedside table, phone off the hook. Even if this was a dream, it was certainly one to be enjoyed. And, if his shards of memory were anything to go by, enjoy it he had.

 

Of course, he thought as he brushed his teeth, this would end soon. If it was a dream like he suspected, it would be ending shortly and he’d wake up in his little apartment in Jarra with no company but endless bottles of perfume and a half a jar of coffee.

 

I won’t always be here, you know. One day I’ll leave and you’ll be alone again.

 

One day. Maybe I should find something to replace you with ahead of time. I could buy a kitten…

 

Mano!

 

And if this wasn't a dream, he and Joanne—no, Joey. That was what she always asked to be called. Joey—would end up fighting over something stupid and insignificant like they always did and he’d pay for his room and go back to Jarra and she’d catch the next plane to L.A. and they’d probably never see each other again. Which would probably be a good thing. The two of them were completely incompatible, but there was just something about her.

 

“Mano?”

 

The door to the bathroom opened and a draft gusted in. He shivered. “Joey. If you’re coming in, close the door. It’s cold out there.”

 

“Ah, sorry.” The door clicked shut and the screen of the shower rolled open with a soft clatter of wheels along plastic and the sound of glass sheets wobbling as they moved. Joanne stepped in and closed the screen behind her again. She pressed herself close to him so she could share the water and he found that she still smelt the same, even after all this time. Apples and talc, something no manufacturer seemed able to reproduce in perfume. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him, breathing deeply. She craned her neck around to look at him, then smiled and twisted herself around, hugging him back. They stood like that for what seemed like hours, the water falling around them, scalding hot. Joey was the first to pull back. She combed her fingers through his wet hair, pushing it away from his face. “Mano. What are we going to do today?”

 

“I don’t have a clue. What do you want to do?”

 

“I don’t know either. You did promise you’d show me the sights though, and we haven’t stepped foot outside of this room for two days, except for to use the restaurant downstairs. So maybe that could be somewhere on our agenda?”

 

“Sounds good to me. We’ve got five more days, so we can see as much as you like.” He sighed and hugged her again. “Is it just me or does this feel like a dream; we’re going to start fighting again now any minute now, aren’t we? Or something else is going to go wrong. I know it is. I’m way too happy, feeling way too good for any of this too last.” He looked down at her, head against his chest, listening quietly. He went on. “Maybe this is something we should have left buried, never to be touched again. One of those things that is best to be locked in your memories with a sticker saying ‘do not touch’.”

 

“But no one pays attention to warning stickers anyway. And at the moment… I couldn’t care less about what we should have done. We’re here, this is now, and it never will be again.”

 

“Never again,” he echoed softly. “Well then, lets make the most of it then shall we? Before this bubble bursts and life goes back to normal.”

 

“Before we have to stick these memories and the whole idea of ‘us’ back in the box with the stickers.”

 

“Yeah. So, up for making more memories for that box of ours?”

 

“You know it. Forever and never, babe.”

 

Hey, no, wait don’t touch that!

 

Why?

 

Because that’s for you!

 

What is it?

 

Wait and see. But when I give it to you, I’ll need you to promise not to fall in love with me.

 

Overconfident much?

 

Not at all; I just know you well enough.

 

You know I don’t make promises I can’t keep. And when it comes to love, I just let my heart choose where I go.

 

…You do know how lame that sounds, right?

 

Yep. But I don’t care. At any rate, it’s too late to promise that. I’m already in love with you.

 

Really?

 

Yep.

 

Truly?

 

Yep. Forever and never babe.

 

Forever and never? Isn’t it supposed to be ‘forever and ever’?

 

Not this time it isn’t.

 

Aw. Well, I can live with that…

 

“Forever and never,” he echoed again, smile playing across his face, before leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss.