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 49: Girls' Day Out

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Wednesday morning, I met Steph at LaGuardia at 9:45. Her flight got in on time, and by the time we got outside, Sam was there in Jon’s car. We piled in, and told the driver to head to D&G. May as well jump right in and do this right.

We tried on every shoe in the place. There was one tense moment when Sam handed over Jon’s AMEX Black. The skeleton-woman behind the counter gave her an incredulous look and took the card.

Steph looked at Sam. “What was that all about?”

“Oh, Jon gave me his credit card for the day,” she said, blushing prettily. “He said he wanted me to not worry about anything and have fun.”

I laughed. “Do you suppose the stick figure went to call Amex to make sure you’re on the up-and-up?”

“I’m sure,” Sam said, rolling her eyes. “Happens every time.”

“I’m still buying lunch,” I said.

The woman (Angelique, thank-you-very-much) came back with a shocked expression, and a charge slip. Sam signed with a flourish, and accepted her shiny red bag. “Thank you,” she said with dignity, and we left the store.

We visited LOTS of shops, and bought the most outrageous shoes and outfits. I shopped for the girls’-night-out-turning-bachelorette party, finally settling on a black tunic mini-dress from Steve Madden. The hem fell a couple of inches below the ass, and fell in a straight line from just under the bosom. It was low cut – really low cut – and the sleeves were fitted to the elbow, then flowed to the wrist. I got the most extravagant, useless black-and-white snakeskin Jimmy Choo’s to wear with it. The heels had to be 5 inches tall, and they were sexy and slinky, and with this dress, would make my legs a mile long.

We visited a lingerie shop and all indulged in negligees and stockings, and giggled as we made our selections. The guys weren’t going to know what hit them. As we came out of this shop, like the dozenth or so we’d been to, an overzealous photographer jumped out at us, quite frankly scaring the shit out of me, because he recognized Sam.

“How about a picture, Sam?” he said as he snapped away. Instinctively, Steph and I moved to stand in front of her.

“Ya’ll got your picture, now how ‘bout letting us ladies have our fun?” Sam said from behind us.

“One more,” he badgered, and Sam parted us to allow him to take the shot. Jon was going to be VERY pissed off about this.

We piled into the limo and had the driver take us to the Rainbow Room, where we had a wonderful lunch. Sam apologized up and down, but it wasn’t her fault. We chatted about the photographer, the Chicago trip, her new house, the furniture they were having delivered, the babies (of course) and before we knew it, it was late afternoon. We hit a few more shops, then were content to have the driver take us around the city while we sipped Pellegrino in the back of the limo.

We had a great day. I was sorry to see it end, but Jon said that he needed his Sam at night or he couldn’t sleep. So, when Jon’s driver dropped us off at David’s, I took Sam and Steph on a tour of the house, then she got back in the car, and went back home to Jon.

Steph and I got our things all put away, then took stock of the kitchen. We were in heaven. The pantry was full, the fridge and freezer stocked, and there were miles of counter space and thousands of pots and pans. Well, maybe not that many, but definitely enough for whatever we were going to do.

“Let’s make brownies,” Steph said, and my eyes gleamed.

“Oh yeah,” I said, and flipped on the Bose that was mounted under the counter. I plugged in my iPod to it, and ‘Damned’ poured out of the sound system. It sounded like they were playing there in the kitchen.

“What time is David coming home?” Steph asked.

“I don’t know; we’ve got a couple hours, I guess.”

We got into a good rhythm, working together in the kitchen like we were sisters. We started getting cocky, and when “Powerful Stuff” by Starship – you know, from Cocktail? – came on, we got a little creative, tossing things to each other. Steph was working on the brownies while I made a salad.

When Steph stuck her head in the fridge, I called out “CARROTS!” and they sailed across the kitchen.

When Steph called out “WHISK!” I flipped one her way and almost hit her in the head. “Sorry,” I said sheepishly.

We were still dancing and singing and laughing over an hour later, but stopped dead when we heard a voice in the doorway say, “well, well, well.”

David had come home. He laughed at us, and came into the kitchen. “By all means, don’t stop on my account.” He dropped a kiss on Steph’s cheek, another lingering one on my mouth, and settled in to watch us finish the chicken parm dinner we were preparing. Steph slapped his hand when he reached for a brownie. “No dessert before dinner, mister,” she said.

Steph needed an egg wash for the cutlets we were preparing, and I tossed her the eggs, and she missed, dropping them on the floor. David thought it was hysterical until we told him to clean it up. He was distracting us after all. He tried to get all cute with the pasta once dinner was ready, and it’s a good thing we made a BUNCH because he ended up dropping piles of it on the floor.

We had a great dinner, and David got us settled into his media room and we hunkered down to watch movies and just hang out. “I’ll leave you to it,” David said, giving me another kiss. “Thanks for dinner, girls, it was fantastic.” He rubbed his hands together. “Now, for those brownies,” he said, and left the room.

“Leave us some!” I shouted to his back.

“Yes, dear,” he said, making us laugh.

When he was gone, Steph said, “You guys seem so comfortable together.”

“Yeah, we are,” I smiled. “It feels like I’ve known him forever and damned if I know what I did before I met him.” I blushed.

She looked at me, and asked gently, “Have you given any more thought to his proposal of sorts?”

I sighed. “Steph, I think about it all the time.” I flopped back on the couch. “I mean, I know that he loves me, and Lord knows I love him to distraction, but I can’t help but think that he only asked because of LJ.”

“Well,” Steph said thoughtfully, “maybe he’s just speeding the timetable because of the baby, but I’ve gotta believe he’d have asked you eventually, baby or not.”

I thought about it. “I know you’re right, and if I’m honest with myself, and it was a few months from now, and he asked me, I would have said yes without hesitation.” My ears teared up, and I looked away.

Stephanie continued, trying to lighten the mood. “I mean, he’s completely smitten by you, and utterly devoted.” She stuck her tongue out at me. “It’s sickening, actually.”

I laughed and tossed a pillow at her head, which she caught, and flipped expertly back at me, catching me full in the face. I shrieked, and that was it. We were laughing and throwing pillows at each other like schoolgirls at a sleepover.

David had stopped outside the room when he heard Stephanie’s comment, and stood very still, wanting to hear the conversation. His heart swelled when he heard Hath’s response. He knew she loved him but it was always nice to get affirmation. He just had to be patient. She wanted to be with him, he just knew it!

When he heard the pillow fight commotion, he went to watch, smiling at these two women. He cleared his throat from the doorway. “So, when does this turn into the kissing?”

The girls jumped and screamed, startled. “Son of a bitch, David!” Hath shouted. “Don’t sneak up on us like that.” She and Steph dissolved into laughter.

“And we aren’t kissing for you,” Steph said, and threw a pillow at David’s head. He laughed and flipped it back.