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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
Completed:
2013-12-26
Words:
6,970
Chapters:
6/6
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1
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12
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1,459

January Surprise

Summary:

A calendar picture stirs up Station 51. An unlikely pair of friendly adversaries have to work things out.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Chapter Text


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January Surprise

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The kids were at school, Roy was on shift, and Joanne was looking forwards to one of her favorite days of the month: a visit to her hairdresser.

She knew it was a vanity, and she knew they really couldn't afford it. But Roy encouraged her to go.

"It's your one luxury—the one thing that's just for you. I want you to do it. Every month. Partly because you always look great, but partly because I know it always makes you feel good, and that makes me happy. So do it," Roy had told her, one morning over coffee, ages and ages ago.

So she and her friend Dianne went to Gina's Salon faithfully, on the second Tuesday of every month. Gina always welcomed them the same way, and today was no exception.

"It's the Annes! Hi Jo, Hi Di!" Gina said, ushering them into the salon. "My faithful first Tuesday ladies."

"Here we are," Joanne said. "Where would you like us?"

"Well, Dianne's going to be with Tracey this morning, and Joanne, you're with me. So come on back," Gina said.

Dianne went to Tracey's booth, and Joanne followed Gina to her booth.

Each stylist had her area decorated differently. Tracey favored outdoor scenes, while another stylist chose movie posters. Gina's specialty, however, was calendars in different themes. Joanne was looking forward to seeing the new selections—it was January tenth, so there would certainly be a new set of calendars for Joanne to look at while she was getting her hair done.

She sat down in the chair, and Gina whipped the black smock over her, fastening it in the back.

"So, Joanne—the usual?"

But Joanne didn't reply. She sat there, jaw hanging slackly, staring at the calendar that was in the center of the top row. She was completely silent for many seconds.

"Joanne?" Gina asked, becoming concerned.

Joanne finally replied, but not with words. Her face went bright red, and she started laughing so hard tears trickled down her cheeks.

"What's the matter?" Gina asked. "I mean, what's so funny?"

Joanne wiped her eyes, and tried to settle down for long enough that she could answer. Finally, she pointed to the large calendar, which featured a fireman, shot at several different angles. In one shot, he was leaning casually against a red truck, arms folded across his bare chest—bare, that was, except for the suspenders. A kitten was perched on his shoulder, completing the eye-rolling pose.

In another shot, again shirtless, he held an axe, in a position that didn't seem realistic to Joanne, but … definitely displayed the subject's pectoral and abdominal assets.

It was the final shot that reddened Joanne's face, though. In that last shot, the largest of the three, the fellow looked exhausted. There was a smear of soot on his forehead, suggesting he'd just been at a fire. A sheen of moisture covered his chiseled—and, yes, naked—upper body. He stood next to what was most definitely a fire station bunk, thumbs hooked in the waist of his bunker pants, on which the buckle was undone, revealing just enough to show that he didn't have anything on underneath, but not enough to get anyone in trouble.

If it hadn't been so funny, it would've been totally hot, Joanne admitted to herself. Or, she revised, blushing harder as she took another look at the third shot, if it hadn't been so hot, it might've been even funnier.

"Oh my God," she said. "I know that guy."

"Um," Gina said nervously, "it's not your husband, is it?"

Joanne shook her head. She was finally regaining control of herself. "No, thank goodness. But let me tell you—nobody, but nobody, would ever suspect … this! From him!"

She collapsed in a fit of laughter again.

"I'll tell you what," Gina said finally, when Joanne once again regained her composure. "We'll get you shampooed, then maybe I'll bring the things I need over to the chair in Donna's booth. She's out today, and I don't think she'll mind if we use her chair."

"Okay," Joanne said, clutching her middle weakly. "That's probably a good idea. Because … yeah."

Joanne followed Gina to the shampooing sink, where Dianne and Tracey had just finished. Joanne relaxed her neck into the perfectly-shaped curve in the edge of the sink, and tried not to think about the picture she'd just seen.

"So," Gina said, after she finished rinsing the conditioner out of Joanne's hair. "Who is he?"

TBC