All Wet
By Misty Flores
Email: mistiec_flores@yahoo.com

Fandom: Pre-RENT (movie)
Pairing/characters: Joanne/Maureen, Joanne/Other
Rating: Hard R
Summary: Joanne Jefferson's defined, in control life is turned upside down when she comes across one Maureen Johnson.

--

CHAPTER TWO

Mr. Frederick Finch was a senior partner with a stiff upper lip, a kind face, and a rather odd set of values. He was also a fierce champion of Joanne, which she suspected had less to do with her than it did her father, who, Mr. Finch claimed, had saved his life during the war.

It was a story Joanne had to endure everytime she was introduced to a client or coworker by Mr. Finch. She ground her teeth and braced herself for the slap across her back and the inevitable, "And this is Howard Jefferson's girl, Joanne! Her father's an ole' pal of mine! Saved my life in the war – and Joanne here's a chip off the old block, aren't you, Joanne?", followed by another back slap that would almost always threaten to teeter her off her heels, plowing straight into the person whose hand she was trying to shake.

Joanne supposed being treated as a chip was better than being treated as a leper, and it was thanks to Mr. Finch that even the most antagonistic assholes around her building treated her with some civility. But Mr. Finch ran his business with some sense of propriety and Joanne, like every other employee, was expected to behave with the utmost professionalism during work hours.

Unfortunately, Mr. Finch also believed that her lesbianism was a passing phase, and the cure was to find herself a nice, decent, hard working boy, "Like my Nicky!"

Nicky was a self-obsessed asshole who regularly held 'meetings' with his secretary during the lunch hour and winked solicitously at her when he knew no one was looking, asking her how it was looking on her end.

It was because of Nicky and Mr. Finch, and ninety percent of the lawyers and legal aids working on her plush, carpeted floor, that forced Joanne to make a point to never bring anyone in her office other than clients and colleagues. Her reputation relied precariously upon respect for what she did, and while Joanne hated the fact that she was forced to work twice as hard as idiots like Nicky simply because she was a woman and a black woman and a black lesbian woman at that, she did what had to be done for the greater good.

And hopefully, a chance to kick Nicky's ass in court.

A week after the rather odd incident at the café, Joanne sat at her desk, working on a particularly hard case that was neither pro-bono or, in her opinion, relevant. It was a civil case of discrimination that was complete bullshit and not worth her time. Already the pile of pro-bono cases that actually mattered were piling up, and her phone lines were blinking, held at bay by Steve, battling the front lines.

On top of the pile lay a wrinkled, worn, coffee-stained deposition that surprised her when she glanced up and realized she still had it.

Reaching over to pluck it off the stack, she let out an aggravated sigh as she inspected the mess that had become of the important document. What was once crisp and clean was now rough, cluttered, and Joanne hated clutter. Still, she held onto the pages with the tips of her fingers, opening it and blinking with alarm.

All over the inside pages was a red, messy scrawl – editorials done in lipstick.

The witness account was given audience and exclamations, "How RUDE!" scrawled across one paragraph. Another said in barely legible writing, "This doesn't make any sense." Joanne squinted at the writing beneath it and noted with some aggravation that it was a section she herself thought odd and had made a point to investigate more thoroughly in court.

On the inside margin of the last page, Maureen had written, "If this is what I had to do all day I'd be uptight too." X's and O's scratched underneath it, followed by a particularly flowery "Maureen".

Joanne could only stare at the page with amazement.

"God," she whispered, letting the pages fall back onto the desk, shoulders slumping in pure wonder. "That girl is something else."

"JEFFERSON!" The booming voice startled her, and she jumped in her seat, exhaling suddenly when Mr. Finch 's bald head popped into her office. "How's that case coming!"

Glancing down at the mangled deposition before her, she flushed, immediately reaching for the folders she should have been looking at. "Going as well as can be expected, sir."

"Good, good." Hands in his pockets, he was an assuming man, a smirk on his face. "Well, get up and let's go to lunch. Come on, you, me and Nicky."

With Mr. Finch, it wasn't a request, and Joanne's smile was pained.

"Uh" Joanne?" Steve ducked in, mouth stuck in an odd expression. "Your" guest is here?"

"My guest?" she repeated, looking confused eyes with her assistant. He shrugged, and jerked his head almost erratically toward the hall, blotchy spots on his pale face that came with aggravation.

"She uh" she said she was here for lunch?"

"You have lunch plans, Jefferson?"

"Well" I" Did you book a lunch for me, Steve?"

Steve licked his lips, clutching onto the doorframe so tightly his knuckles were white. "Well" she-"

A loud, high pitched laugh floated in behind him and with it, came a sinking in her stomach.

Oh" no.

"I really think you should get out here," Steve said, seconds before he ducked back out, leaving her behind with a puzzled Mr. Finch.

"Who is making that racket?" he asked, and immediately began to follow.

Palms pressed against her desk, Joanne lingered a second behind, trying hard to force back her rational state of being. It wasn't her. It couldn't be her. It wouldn't be her, because no sane person would ever come uninvited to a person's place of work and proceed to act like a Bohemian.

Pushing herself off the varnished wood, she took in a heavy breath, and rounded her desk, grabbing her jacket and her purse.

What she saw outside her office door nearly gave her a heart attack.

Maureen, with her wild mess of brown curls and her off the shoulder black shirt, sat perched upon Steve's desk, laughing wildly at some comment that had just come from Nicky himself, who wore the most ridiculous grin she had ever seen.

"Oh my Lord."

"Is this your guest, Jefferson!" came the stern, disapproving voice of Mr. Finch.

The comment was enough to get her noticed, as Maureen, shoulders still shaking with mirth at the idiotic Nicky, looked her way, and waved. "Hi! Joanne!"

Oh Lord.

Glancing around fitfully, Joanna found herself the unwanted center of attention, as both lawyers and aids all seemed to be out of their office, eyes on the colorfully dressed Maureen, walking straight towards her.

"M... Maureen," she managed, teeth slightly clenched, casting a side long glance on the now gaping Mr. Finch. "How did you- when did you- what are you doing here?"

Maureen grinned, seemingly oblivious to the stares, or rather, enjoying them a bit too much. "I had an audition, I was in the neighborhood – I'm hungry."

For once, she was at a loss for words. Completely stumped. "I. You. What?"

Maureen glanced up at Mr. Finch, and with a smile stuck out her hand, smile brilliant and gleaming. "Hi! Maureen Johnson!"

Mr. Finch took the offered hand gingerly. "A pleasure, Miss Johnson."

"Maureen," Joanne interrupted, somehow able to find voice again. "Maureen-"

"You've been holding out on us, Jefferson." That came from, of course, Nicky, who damn near had an erection as he came to stand by Maureen. "I hope you wouldn't mind, Mr. Finch. I invited Joanne's guest to come along with us. It seemed only fair."

What a fucking asshole.

"Oh, I really don't think that's necessar-"

"Please, please – how could we deny such beautiful woman, right Mr. Finch?"

Maureen grinned, shrugging. "Why not?"

Mr. Finch had yet to let go of Maureen's hand, and Joanne's shoulders tightened noticeably. "Of course," he answered roughly. "Shall we?"

And thus began one of the most awkward hours of Joanne's life, in which she would be forced to sit at a three star restaurant with her boss, an asshole, and the ever loud, out of place, and completely vibrant Maureen.

Joanne dug palms into fists and watched as Mr. Finch led Maureen toward the elevators, Nicky winking at her and watching Maureen's ass, leaving her behind to consider committing murder. A few feet away, Maureen eyes caught hers, and Joanne was momentarily distracted by the brilliance in those brown orbs.

It was a lingering thought she immediately dismissed, and dragging her eyes to the floor, Joanne followed, determined to have a word with Miss Johnson as soon as she got her alone.

- end chapter