Title: Courtin'
Characters: John and Chris Entwistle, Cady, Audrey, and Alec Townshend, Marlene Richelieu
Word Count: 1975
Rating: PG-13 [romance and love]
Warnings/Spoilers/Summary: John spends Valentine's Day at the Townshend house with Cady and the children before going on a date with former French model Marlene Richelieu.




February 1979, London

Intending to spend the day with Cady while she attempted to bake sugar cookies for the kids before they got home from school, John woke in a rather good mood. He likely had things he should be doing that Wednesday, like working on some of the masters from the Quadrophrenia film, but he did not intend to do so. Valentine’s Day may be an insignificant holiday, but it was one all the same. He intended to take the day off.

Rolling out of bed an hour after waking, John showered and dressed. He considered brewing a pot of coffee, flavoring it with whiskey, but discarded the idea. Instead, he fed his dogs, briefly conversed with housekeeper, and headed to the garage. Lighting up a cigarette, he stared at his cars, trying to decide which to drive that day. As it was the day to celebrate love, he opted for his black 1975 Mercedes Benz with the red leather interior and slipped behind the wheel.

Arriving at the Townshend house another cigarette later, John parked in his usual spot and headed into the house. Not the least bit surprised to be informed of Pete’s absence by the man cleaning out the house’s gutters; he wished he had the forethought to pick up a bundle of flowers for his best friend on his way over. Perhaps, he could pick the kids up from school and make a side trip to do just that.

Finding Cady in the kitchen, her hair tied messily from her face and her hand on her hip as she stared a cookbook, John smirked and leaned on the archway leading to the room. His blue eyes glanced around and he could not help but chuckle. For just baking sugar cookies, Cady certainly had destroyed the kitchen.

Turning around, she frowned, “I can’t do this, John.”

He stepped forward, brushed the flour from her nose and cheeks, and kissed her forehead, “Of course you can, love. You baked a wonderful cake for Chris’s birthday. You can bake cookies.”

“Look at this,” she motioned to the kitchen. “I’m a complete failure.”

“Not at all,” John moved towards the counters. “We’ll just clean this up and start over.”

“I… okay.”



After picking the children up at school, as well as a bouquet of flowers for Cady, John returned to the sugar-smelling house. The children happily smothered Cady with kisses and handmade valentines before giggling happily about the plates of decorated cookies left out by her and John. They played games and music, filling the house with happiness and love. John hated that Pete missed every moment, but there was nothing he could do about it. He did not even know where the guitarist was any more than Cady did.

Moreover, he hated leaving her alone that evening. While she would have the children surrounding her, showering her with love, John still felt guilty because of his dinner plans. He remained silent about them, though he kept checking the time, hoping she did not notice. Naturally, she had and pulled him aside while the children watched a movie.

“Are you going to turn into a pumpkin or something, John?” she asked.

He smirked, “What makes you think that?”

“You keep checking the clock.”

“Oh, um, well,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I kinda have dinner plans.”

“Oh, I see.”

“I’m sure Pete will be home for dinner,” John quickly added.

Cady shook her head, “Doubt it. But that’s fine. I’ve got my kids.”

“Cade…”

She turned away from him, “Go have your romantic dinner, John. I’ll be fine.”

“Cade, don’t–”

“Come on, kids,” she faux-cheerfully called for them. “Let’s put our nice clothes on and go out for dinner.”

All three of the children jumped up, excitedly asking where they were going for dinner. Tousling Chris’s hair as he stopped, waiting for a response, Cady informed him that it was a surprise and reminded him to wash behind his ears before putting his nice shirt on. Not entirely sure what to do or say, John watched as she turned off the television and herded the children out of the room. Her eyes barely flicked to his as she passed by, heading up to change herself.

Chris glanced down the stairs as Cady passed him, his eyes finding his father, “Are you coming with us too, Dad?”

John motioned for his son to come back down to speak with him. The young blonde boy bounded back down the steps, jumping the last three to land in front of his father. His big eyes turned up to John, waiting an answer.

“I have dinner plans with Marlene tonight, remember?” he stated softly as he squatted to put him at his son’s level. “So I need you to promise me something.”

“What, Daddy?”

“Tell Mama you love her lots tonight and that you want her to be your valentine,” John said. “She misses Pete a lot tonight. So it’s up to you to make her smile, okay?”

The boy nodded eagerly, “I’ll take good care of Mama.”

“Thank you, big guy,” he messed the seven-year-old’s hair as he stood up.

His son quickly hugged him, “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, Chris,” he embraced the boy briefly. “Now go put on your good clothes so you can take Mama out, okay?”

“Okay!” the boy turned to head back up the stairs.

“Wait,” John pulled out his wallet and fished out a few notes. “Make sure Mama does not pay for dinner.”

The young boy looked at the money his father held out, “Okay, Daddy.”

“Thanks,” he smiled. “I’ll pick you up tonight.”

“Bye, Dad,” he shoved the money into his pocket and hurried up the steps.

Sighing, John headed out of the Townshend house, hoping to find Pete pulling into the driveway at that precise moment. He frowned, as that was not the case. Slipping behind the wheel of his car, John drove away with a heavy heart.



Standing outside the restaurant, smoking a cigarette, John waited for the Frenchwoman to arrive. Shifting his thoughts from worry about Cady spending the lovers’ holiday without her husband to his impending date seemed near impossible. He was certainly going to have a word or many with Pete next time he managed to corral the guitarist. His behavior towards his wife and family was becoming…

All of his thoughts arrested as the beautiful redhead approached him. Her long locks curled about her nearly bare shoulders in soft waves, drawing his attention to the asymmetrical neckline of her flirty dress. His eyes quickly swept her body, absorbing the way the dress skimmed her womanly curves.

“Gorgeous,” he muttered before kissing her cheeks.

“Good evening, John,” she smiled.

He offered his arm, “Shall we?”

“Absolutely,” her arm slipped into his.

The pair headed into the restaurant and were led directly to a secluded table in the corner. Marlene grinned in delight upon seeing the large bouquet of roses dominating the center of the table. Pretending he had no clue how they managed to be there, John smiled as she sniffed them appreciatively and kissed his cheek quickly. The maitre-d swept the flowers from the table, setting them nearby but out of the way, and politely suggested a bottle of wine and appetizers.

Though they met every time she came to London and talked on the phone occasionally, neither ran out of things to chat about. There was an ease and familiarity and yet not with each other. John felt as if he was getting to know Marlene all over again. She was different, so different. Her life no longer revolved around drugs, sex, and booze. It was admirable, really. She was no longer a vacant model, but a fully realized woman with ideas, goals, and aspirations. She was real.

Fingers creeping across the table to grasp hers as they waited for the dessert course, John smiled and asked, “How long will you be in London?”

She chuckled, “You already know that, John. I leave tomorrow for New York.”

“Oh,” his face fell and he pulled his hand free from hers.

“John,” she warned, “we are just friends, though I do appreciate your romantic gestures tonight.”

“Ah well,” he pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one, “it is standard procedure for this holiday and all.”

Marlene eyed him for a moment, “John, mon amour, you have to be home with your son in any matter. It is not a night to bring home a strange woman.”

He shrugged, “Chris knows who you are.”

“Even if he does remember who I used to be, I am not that woman anymore,” she declared, smiling at the server as a single slice of chocolate cake was placed between them. “Perhaps when I am done with business in New York, we may be able to see each other again.”

He nudged the cake plate towards her, preferring his cigarette to the sweet, “I would like to see you tonight.”

“Do you not see me now?” she teased, cutting into the cake with her fork.

“I was hoping in private.”

Her eyes went to his as she slipped the cake into her mouth and shook her head, “I cannot.”

“Why?”

“You have your son tonight, John.”

“He can stay the night with Cady,” he declared.

Marlene shook her head again, “No.”

“Why?”

“Because,” she leaned across the table, offering him a bite of the cake, “I like you tres beaucoup to hop in bed with you so quickly.”

“But we have–”

She interrupted his protest by shoving the cake into his open mouth, “If we go that path again, I want to do it right. I do not want another fling, just a sexual thing. I deserve more. You deserve more. If we are to be together, we shall do it the right way.”

He swallowed the mouthful of cake, “But–”

“I will not be anyone’s easy lay anymore, John. Not even yours.”

John looked at her for a long moment, trying to separate his feelings from her words. Watching her eat three more bites of cake, he finally understood what she was saying. He may have publicly preferred loose women and fast cars, but faced with the challenge of a changed woman, John knew he no longer wanted that life. He wanted something real and true, something like what Pete had with Cady. The Frenchwoman seated across from him, might just be the one to provide such.

“I accept your conditions,” he declared softly. “May I court you, Marlene?”

Offering another bite of cake, she smiled, “You already are.”