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 78: Back to Work

Friday, March 14, 2008

Monday, David left when I did, and after dropping me at work, took the car service to the airport. I was going to have to try to remember that I don’t have my car at the train station – there’s nothing more embarrassing than calling the police to report a car being stolen, only to find that it’s right where I left it – at a different train station. Been there, done that. More than once.

It was a long few days at work. 7am meetings then working closely with my top guy to make sure that he could handle the things he was going to have to do in another few weeks, when I was in NY. My plan was to spend April finishing up the things I was personally responsible for, and the things that “the group manager” needed to do would fall to Ethan. He was more than ready, and was thrilled to be given this opportunity, even if it was by default. “You won’t be sorry,” he said to me on Wednesday, after another of our turnover sessions.

I shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter,” I said at the time. “Once I’m in New York, I’m officially a ‘short timer’ and will probably be acting as such.” He laughed at me, knowing full well that that wouldn’t be the case. I’d work just as hard as I usually do – except for the last day, perhaps. He was right.

“So,” Ethan said, “you never really told us what you were going to do.”

“That’s because I don’t really know myself,” I said. I didn’t get the chance to catch up with Jon to talk specifics, but I felt certain he’d be fair. “But, I’m sure it’ll be fabulous.” He just looked at me. I motioned him to follow me. We went into an empty office and closed the door. “I’m asking you to keep this to yourself until I’m gone,” I said, looking at him.

“You got it, Hath,” he said, eager to hear what I was going to say.

“I’ll be working for the Jovi machine,” I said, smiling. “I don’t know what exactly I’ll do, but as soon as David told Jon I gave my notice, Jon was offering me a job. He didn’t say exactly what, but I took care of a lot of things for him when we were in Chicago, and he knows I will do whatever I need to in order to do whatever he might ask.”

“You’re going to be his personal assistant?” Ethan was incredulous.

“No, no, no,” I said. “Are you kidding me? We’re too much alike. We’d kill each other inside a month. Nope, it’s something else altogether. I’ll find out later this week.”

Ethan laughed. “You know, all the girls will be asking you for tickets,” he said.

“Probably,” I said wryly. “So, once I’m ensconced in the New York office, you can tell anyone here who asks,” I said, “but not before then.” He nodded and went on his way, and I went back to my desk, sat down, and sighed. I looked around at the stuff I had accumulated in my tenure here. Five years means a lot of crap. I went to the copier room to grab the big locked “to be shredded” bucket we affectionately call “The Blue Whale” and wheeled it back to my desk. I started the arduous task of weeding through my stuff.

Personal stuff was easy; that went into a set of boxes to be couriered home. Another box of stuff for Ethan was set aside, and the rest fed the Whale. A couple hours later, it was time to leave. I dialed up “Goddess” on the iPod and settled in to my seat on the train to get home.

That evening, just as I was getting ready for bed (early, because I was exhausted), my Blackberry beeped. I didn’t get pages from our systems anymore, so this meant someone was paging me directly. I checked it, and it was David. He sent me an SMS message (text message to you) that said, “CALL U L8R WANNA TELL U SMTHNG” Oh great. I checked the time. Of course, it was about ½ hour until they go on stage, and there’s no way he’d answer the phone. Jon would kill him. Now there was no way in hell I was going to sleep.

I got on the boards, but nobody was around. I tried flipping through the dial, but there was nothing on. I didn’t want to start a movie, because then I’d have to stay up to see the whole thing. (If you’re type A, you’ll understand). I sat there looking around and decided I may as well start packing. I went down to the kitchen to get a drink first, and found myself opening the freezer. There was no fudge-ripple ice cream. I don’t know why I cared; mint chocolate chip is my favorite flavor. I went into the back room and started packing one of the many Rubbermaid containers I’d be filling over the next few weeks, but my mind kept straying to the freezer. Finally, around 11, I said, “fuck it,” grabbed my keys and my bag, and headed out. The LJs clearly were not going to let me rest until I had fed them fudge ripple ice cream.

Half hour later, and with a pint and spoon in hand, I sat down in bed, flipped on the news and waited for David to call. I had just started drifting off when the phone rang. Good thing too, or there would have been melted ice cream all in my bed, and I would have been PISSED in the morning.

“Hey there,” I said. “What do you wanna talk about?” I said, without preamble. I had to be up in another five hours.

“Hey yourself,” he laughed. “What would you think if I helped you get settled after you move?”

“WHAT!?” I screeched, sitting up straight. “You can’t do that. Jon would never let you.”

David laughed. “He may have no choice. Teek’s back is really bothering him, and Jon thinks he should take it easy, and is thinking about canceling a couple shows anyway.”

“No way,” I said, shaking my head. “Get on the computer,” I said, already walking to the office. I booted up and was on Skype in minutes. When I saw David’s face I hung up the phone.

“Look, baby,” I said. “I think it’s incredibly sweet that you want to do that, but you can’t.” He went to interrupt, but I put a hand up. “You simply cannot bail because of me. Uh uh. Now, if, God forbid, there was a problem with the babies, then OK. But moving? Baby, don’t you know I have a cadre of men just waiting to do my bidding?”

David’s eyes narrowed. “Oh really?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” I answered. “My brother and his frat brats are going to help me. It’ll be fine. I promise.” He just looked at me. “Look, why don’t you come next week, and you can help me pack, and help me decide what I should bring and what I should give away.”

“I can do that,” he said slowly, then nodded. “OK, I can come out Thursday, but the kids have a long weekend, that weekend…”

“Yep, and I’m hosting my last Easter dinner here, so go. It’ll be fine. Then come back Monday, help me finish, we can pack up, and get outta here.”

“Any chance of leaving a couple days early if we’re ready?”

“Baby, my minions are throwing a surprise ding-dong-the-witch is-gone party; I can’t.”

He just laughed. “Well, now, that’s a shitty thing to do.”

“Nah, it’s tradition when a lady boss leaves. There’s a hat and everything,” I said.

He laughed harder. “That I’ve GOT to see,” he said.

“So come to work with me on Friday, and we can leave after lunch,” I said.

“Deal,” he said. We talked for a little while longer, but I was beat, and so was he. We said our goodnights, and went to bed.