Pairings/Characters (this chapter): Mel/Johnny, Red/Homer (Homer does not appear in this chapter)
Series Notes: Tears Of The Saints will deal with the Outfit/Syndicate (aka the Mob) and how they cross paths with the Dillinger Gang and the Bureau of Investigation. It helps to have first-hand knowledge of Italian culture and Catholicism. ;)
Fandom: Public Enemies
Genres: AU, Drama
Rating (this chapter): G
General Summary: When the Syndicate needs the special talents of John Dillinger, they take out insurance that he will do the job they want by kidnapping someone near and dear to his heart: Melvin Purvis.
Chapter Summary: Mel and Johnny enjoy their romance.
Date Of Completion: January 24, 2010
Date Of Posting: February 20, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Universal does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 656
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
The entire series can be found here.
Johnny pulled Mel to him by his pearl-gray tie, Mel fluttering his lashes and saying in an exaggerated Southern drawl, “Why, suh, you are most bold.”
“You got it, Sunshine.”
They kissed, tongues twining, and their bodies melted together. When they finally broke apart, Johnny licked his lips.
“Man, you taste sweet, sugar.”
“I can say the same for you, Mr. Dillinger.”
Johnny shivered with delight. He loved it when those sweet honeyed tones said his name. He nuzzled Mel’s cheek, grasping his hand, his fingers bumping against the heavy gold-topaz-and-sapphire ring he wore, his symbol of graduation from the University of South Carolina School of Law.
“You look good enough to eat.”
Mel was wearing his pearl-gray suit that looked stunning on him. The weather was chilly and he had on his black greatcoat and fedora as he prepared to depart. Johnny was in a brown vest, pants, and white shirtsleeves.
“You already had your feast, suh.”
Johnny nibbled Mel’s ear. “Maybe I want more.”
“Oh, darlin’, you are one sassy sweet talker.”
Johnny laughed. How he loved his Southern bell! “Will I see you tonight?”
Mel nodded. “I have the weekend off, barring any sightings of Public Enemy No. 1.” He winked.
Johnny grinned. “You make sure to tell Hoover you had a sighting, up-close-and-personal.”
“I will not!” Mel smiled. “What I see is not for the Director’s prurient ears.”
Johnny kissed him again. “You’re a peach, Mel. A nice, juicy, Southern peach.”
“Oh, my, sounds like Midwestern corn to me.”
“See you tonight, darlin’.”
Mel slipped out of the house and into the alley, heading several blocks away to pick up a streetcar back to the Bankers’ Building.
Johnny went to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. He was very happy with his new romance. Mel wasn’t like other men he’d known. For one thing, he was a heckuva a lot prettier than anyone he’d known in prison or in his gang. Most of the men he’d known were rough types hardened by years in prison or life on the run.
His Mel was a capable crimefighter, an expert marksman, but was sweet and gentle, certainly not the tough type like Winstead.
No, his Mel was elegant, gentlemanly, and cultured.
What the hell is he doing with you, farmboy?
Yep, he was one lucky bastard.
Red entered the kitchen. “Mel gone?”
Johnny nodded. Red crossed over to the stove and poured himself a cup of coffee from the coffeepot.
“Can you guys clear out tonight for awhile?”
Red grinned. “Sure, John. Homer wants to go to the movies, and the other fellas were hoping to visit Anna’s place over on Halstead.”
Johnny sipped his coffee. “Thanks.” He looked out the window dreamy-eyed.
Red laughed. “Man, do you have it bad, Dillinger!” He grinned as Johnny turned to look at him with a too-innocent expression. “Can’t blame ya. Your man’s one long, cool drink of water.”
“Mmm.” Johnny’s eyes twinkled. “He’s my sweet potato pie.”
Red guffawed. “Quit it! You’re makin’ me hungry.” He leaned against the counter. “You expectin’ him tonight?”
“Yeah.” Johnny began to open the cabinets. “We got any corn?”
“Yeah. Bought some canned stuff yesterday.” Red thought he heard Johnny mutter, “Midwestern corn”.
“I’d like to have it fresh, but it’s not the season.” Johnny went to the icebox. “Good, we got fresh tomatoes and lettuce. Won’t be a fancy salad, but it’ll do. And I can fry up some chicken. It’s both our favorite.”
“Johnny Dillinger cookin’? Must be love.”
Johnny smiled. “Must be.”
Red drank his coffee. He understood love that made you a sap, thinking of Homer. “You got a good thing goin’, Johnny. Enjoy it.”
“Oh, I intend to, Red. I intend to.”
Johnny’s smile was pure happiness.