So, here it is. My David Story.

A little background...

I participated in an interactive fan fiction on a friend's site, and my character ended up with David. I spent so much time immersing myself in his music and stories about him (which are hard to find, by the way) that he took over my thoughts for quite some time. I couldn't get him out of my head. He's still in there, rattling doors and opening drawers and such, but he's behaving himself. Mostly.

This story came out as an outlet for me to try to get through my little obsession. I told some of the girls from the other fan fic exercise, and they thought it was hysterical that I got so wrapped up, that I couldn't think of anything but him.

They convinced me to "go public" with the story, so here it is.

I hope you enjoy it. It starts here.

~ Hath

Chapter 21: David's Back!

Friday, December 7, 2007

Monday December 3rd, 2007

Usually I hate Mondays with the white-hot intensity of the heat of a thousand suns. Today should have been no different: I had to be downtown by 7 am for a division-wide meeting, the sleet made the roads and sidewalks treacherous, and I slipped more than once walking to the World Trade Center from the train. Despite all this, I was still smiling. David was supposed to come in today. I say “supposed to” because we’re in the midst of a wonderful early-winter freezing rain and sleet extravaganza. There’s about an inch of yucky stuff on the ground, and they closed Logan early this morning. God, I hope they re-open the airport, and that David can get in safely.

I made it to the WTC by 6:45, grabbed my breakfast, and settled in for the 5-hour series of seminars and panel discussions, to be capped off by a catered luncheon. I was distracted the whole time, and couldn’t really concentrate on what was being said. I made it a point to sit in the front row to make it more difficult to zone out. It also lessened the temptation to sneak out at the break. Plus, my boss was sitting next to me, and he was chatting to me whenever we had downtime.

Everyone in the seminar was asked to turn off their pagers and phones, which to me meant set them to vibrate. I’m hopelessly addicted to my blackberry, and freak out when it doesn’t talk to me for half a day – I’d think there’s something wrong with it, and frankly, I was distracted enough already.

I’m glad I followed my instinct. David sent me a text around 9 am letting me know that Logan airport was open, but experiencing significant delays and he didn’t want to spend the day waiting in the airport so he was driving out. I sent him a message back that I was at WTC until 1, just about when he should be hitting my house, and would be heading back to the office for a couple hours of meetings. I told him I’d call when I got back to the office, and would be able to sneak away on the 3:00 train.

Finally, at 1:00, the meetings and luncheon were over. I got my coat out of hock and made my way out to the front of the WTC with my boss and some of my peers. I was refereeing a debate about some policies that were recently put in place (by yours truly), and was laughing at some of their arguments and their vehemence. We were looking for the shuttle to take us back across town to our building, and Matt nudged me. “Isn’t that your name on that card?” he asked. I looked in the direction he was pointing, and sure enough, there was someone holding a card with my name on it. He was standing in front of a beautiful black Lincoln Navigator, wearing an overcoat with the collar turned up, sunglasses, and a chauffeur’s cap. I frowned as I approached him, with Matt and the others not too far behind.

“Excuse me,” I said. “You have my name on your card; are you really here for me?”

The man took off his sunglasses and hat, and smiled broadly. It was David. “Hey, darlin’,” he said.

“David!” I squeaked, “What are you doing here?” I dropped my laptop and backpack to the ground, and launched myself into his arms. His arms locked around me, and he spun me around before giving me a long kiss on the lips. Too late, I remembered that I was NOT alone, that I had come out of the building with a group of people. I broke the kiss and stepped back, blushing. My colleagues were all staring at me. I have a reputation as being a hard-ass, and rarely let my guard down at work. I work with mostly men, so it doesn’t pay to be to girly. I was not going to live this down for a long while.

“Guys, this is David,” I said.

“Really?” Alex said. “I never would have guessed that.”

I blushed and introduced David to my coworkers. To their credit, other than a couple of them saying that their wives or daughters (or both) were fans, they didn’t make a big deal about who he was. David picked up my bags and stowed them in the back seat.

“You coming back to work, Hath?” Matt asked with an evil gleam in his eye.

“Yeah, I am, smart-ass,” I replied. “I have a couple of meetings I can’t get out of.” God, they were going to tease me mercilessly for weeks. I grinned. “I am leaving early though,” I said, and David laughed and took my hand.

He opened the passenger side door. “Your carriage awaits, m’lady,” he said.

“You bozos are on your own,” I said to them as David closed my door. He dialed in my work address to his GPS, and we were off. “What a wonderful surprise!” I said to him as we tooled up the driveway.

“I missed you,” he said simply. “I wanted to see you as soon as I could.” I just smiled a silly, stupid smile.

It was a relatively short ride to my building, and we shared a passionate kiss before I got out of the Nav. “That’ll have to hold you until I get home,” I said to him, leaning in through the driver’s side window.

David pulled me back in for another. “Mmmm. Now I just might make it,” he said with a wink.

“Can you get they-ah from hee-ah?” I asked, pulling out my Claven for his benefit.

“Yeah, the GPS will tell me where to go,” David said.

I laughed. “Well, when it tells you to take the road through the park, don’t. That isn’t a vehicle road; it’s a bike path,” I said. “Take St. Pierre instead. Comes out in the same place.”

David snapped off a sharp solute. “Yes, ma’am” he said. I just narrowed my eyes and scowled at him. “I mean yes, miss,” he said laughing.

“Watch out for the boxes in the living room. I took you at your word, and haven’t started decorating yet; I just got everything down from the attic.” I winked at him. “See you when I get home,” I said.

“Not if I see you first.”

* * * * *

Hath got home by four, and they had a passionate reunion after which they showered and got ready for dinner. She and David went out to dinner to a local steak house, where the steaks were butter soft and the rub was so flavorful, Hath asked the waiter what was in it. He, of course, wouldn’t tell her, but she had to try. When they got back, it was a half hour before kickoff. Hath got changed into comfy sweats and a battered Pats jersey, and the two settled into watch the game. Monday Night Football. She chuckled at the Hank intro; they were still playing the one with Richie in it.

After the first quarter, David was looking at his girl in a new light. He saw her at the game last week of course, and knew she was a, well, vocal fan. But she was yelling and cursing at the TV, ranting and pacing in front of it. She was questioning their manhood, berating their mothers, and at one point, flipped off the coach. She had left her laptop at work, so she wheeled the computer desk out of the office and into the loft so she could ‘watch’ the game with the harem. At one point, David was able to sneak on for a second and tell the girls that Hath was insane, and when she came back and saw that, she flicked him in the forehead.

“Ow!” David rubbed at the spot. “What was that for?”

“I am crazy, not insane,” Hath answered. “There’s a difference.”

David laughed. “Yeah, OK, you psycho.” Hath made to flick him again, and David grabbed her hands and held them behind her back and kissed her stupid.

At one point, David had to leave the room to collect himself; he was afraid if he snickered at her one more time, she was going to hit him.

Hath made it up to him during halftime, though she told David he had exactly eighteen minutes. He laughed so hard that by the time he got himself under control, there were only fifteen left, and she held him to that. They made the most of their time, though, and were back in front of the TV snuggled in to watch the third quarter with a few seconds to spare. Almost with the opening drive, Hath had leaped up to pace, and was getting agitated again. David tried to distract her, but it wouldn’t work. To add to her tension, Hath’s brother kept calling every time there was a good or awful play, which was pretty much every other play. Finally, she told him to stop calling; he was just making it worse. She kept the Harem informed about what was going on, her fingers flying across the keys faster than he’d ever seen someone type. She never looked away from the game except to click “post” on her updates. When he commented about it, she said distractedly, “105 words 20 years”, her eyes glued to the television.

“Huh?” David asked.

“105 words 20 years – I type 105 words a minute, and have been typing for more than 20 years.” She spared a look at him, her mouth in a smirk. “When you do something for that long, you kinda get good at it, don’tcha? Now shhhh.”

In the last seconds of the game, the last 8 seconds, to be exact, Hath looked ready to kill. The quarterback for the Ravens let a pass go, a Hail Mary, a jump ball that the Raven’s landed on the two. When the ball was in the air, Hath was screaming “NO!” When the Raven’s receiver came down with the ball, it was “FUCK!” and when he fell shy of the goal line with no time left on the clock, she jumped into the air punching at the ceiling and cheering. She did a little ass-shaking happy dance, updated the Harem once more, flicked off the TV, and turned to David. “I’m all yours now, if you want me, baby,” she said, a wicked gleam in her eyes. David didn’t have to be asked twice.

He wrapped Hath in his arms and carried her to bed where they had their own private celebration.

If Hath’s Pats win the Superbowl, it may just kill him.