#{one off thread}

"Nick, old sport, you've been such a help lately, I simply must thank you. No, no, I insist. Would you fancy a massage? Why? Come now, you look so tense lately I'm afraid you'll have a heart attack! Here, I have this voucher--a gift from a friend, nothing more--for a relaxing day at one of the finest massage parlors in New York." That was how, after many awkward "that's quite all right"s, and many more "I absolutely insist"s, Nick had wound up at the doors to his first massage. Shifting on his feet, he turned the voucher over and back again. He could simply tell Jay he'd gone, make up a few convincing details and head home, but he'd already made the long drive into the city, and it was rude to let such a valuable gift go to waste. Maybe he could just endure it for his friend's sake. Would it be so bad, really? Being touched and rubbed by a complete stranger didn't strike him well, but this was a top-tier service--perhaps he would really enjoy the experience. Sighing, Nick stashed the ticket back in his breast pocket and pushed past the heavy doors. The interior was stunning, and for a moment he was caught off-guard, stopping to admire the expensive furniture, the gold furnishings, and the ten-foot-tall fountain in the centre of the lobby. But the other customers there, substantially better-dressed than himself, shot him haughty, derisive looks that sent him scurrying to the front desk. He was not the typical client served there and it showed; the tips of his ears burned with embarrassment. Leaving now would be worse than staying, so hopefully the massage wouldn't take long.   Fortunately, the receptionist was kinder than her patrons. She gave him a key and a large white towel, directing him down the hall and to the left. There he found his changing room, with a locker to store his clothing and personal belongings. He hesitated to leave; did he really have to walk down the hall clad in only a towel? Granted, the room was around the corner, but still. Resolving himself, he secured the towel around his waist and headed off. When he arrived, the door was closed, the window blurred and concealed. Did he just walk in? Should he wait? Weighing his options, Nick decided it was better to knock than wait around and be seen by someone wandering by.

During the crisp days of autumn, a warm Saturday could not be left to waste. New York City sprang to her feet and it seemed every citizen was out on the town, whether by car or by foot. Stores burst with customers, people clung to the railings of patio restaurants. Fortunately, the two men had taken lunch early and avoided the afternoon rush. Now they were free to explore the various charming shops of the city at their own pace. Nick resisted all urges to hold Jack's hand by keeping his hands resolutely in his pockets, and was about to speak when the nearby murmur of brass and percussion interrupted. "A music store," he commented, gazing inside the glass at the beautiful arrangement of instruments. "Doesn't look too busy. Maybe we can take a break from the sun in here. Want to go in?"

Nick hadn't expected his week to begin with the discovery of a cavity; in fact, it had been quite a shock. He was diligent about oral hygiene and ate a diet low in sugary foods. What had he missed? It didn't make sense, but there was nothing to be done about it now. So, rather begrudgingly, he set up a dentist appointment for that Friday.