FF: After Midnight
Title: After Midnight
Category: Future
Disclaimer: Not mine
Notes: I've got a soft spot for this one, so I thought I'd give it a post. Feedback is why I check my hotmail more than I should.
Josh is sitting at a table in the corner, an open beer in front of him. He’s had it for close to twenty minutes and has barely finished a third of it.
He looks at his watch. She’s late. The woman is never late. But she’s late.
Just then he hears the door swing open with a loud creak. She walks in. She looks delightful for the late hour, in her worn jeans and baby tee. She’s wearing flimsy flip flops that are probably going on their fifth summer and he notices her toes are painted the palest shade of pink. He loves it. Its completely emasculating for him even to notice, but he can’t help it. She has him noticing stuff like that.
Her fingernails are long and glossy. She must have gotten them done. She paints her toe nails, but she usually doesn’t worry about manicures. He figures she must have been feeling particularly girly and got dragged some place by Ronna or CJ or even the First Lady. Probably not Lou though.
She slides into the seat across from him and slings her purse over the back of the chair. She eyes the beer sitting in front of him and moves to inspect how much is left.
“Its 30 minutes old.” He tells her. She raises an eyebrow and he pushes it towards her. She takes a sip and lets her lips linger across the thick glass of the rim. It drives him nuts.
“You shouldn’t be here.” He takes the beer back from her and drinks from it.
“You’re the one who told me to come.”
“I didn’t think you’d agree.”
“I was curious.”
“About what?”
“What the hell we’d be doing here.” He slinks out of his chair quickly and walks toward the bar. Her eyes follow him and she watches as he orders her her own drink, not wanting to force the warm beer onto her. He opens it and places it in front of her. She whispers a quiet thanks.
“I wanted to see you, is that a bad thing?”
“No,” she gazes up at him from her beer and lets the word roll curiously off her tongue. He licks his lips and purses them together. “I practically had to sneak out though, I’m being watched like a hawk.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Not your fault.” She tells him. He nods. “But you’ve got my reputation on the line, here.” She smiles playfully, her voice light.
“Well I’d hate to tarnish your virtue.”
“You tarnished that a while ago, Josh.” She takes another sip. She’s almost halfway through the bottle while he still nurses his.
They’re quiet a moment. Dull country music drones in the background. “I was just thinking.” He finally says, rocking the beer in his hand.
“I’m intrigued. About what?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Ah.”
“I thought that would be obvious.”
“It was. Me too.”
“Tomorrow is a big deal.”
“Well, it was your idea.” She picks at the label on her beer bottle with great concentration. He watches her for a moment and smiles at the curious point she made.
“Are you ready?” He asks. She looks up at him.
“For?”
He sighs, she’s making it difficult for him. She knows what he’s talking about, knows what he’s trying to say, but she’s making him drag it all out. She’s making him assign words and labels to emotions she already has cataloged. “Everything.” He finally says.
“Is that why you called me down here? For some last minute counseling?” She smiles over the rim of the bottle.
“No, I just wanted to talk.”
“We could have talked on the phone.”
“I wanted to see you.” She nods and continues to pick at the beer label, which is now crinkled and creased. “You got your nails done.” He points out, nodding towards her polished fingers.
She smiles. “Yeah, the First Lady made me.”
He chuckles slightly and takes a large gulp of the now warm liquid. “Did she pay?”
Donna smiles and shakes her head. “There are rules about those things.” Quiet passes over them for a moment. “This place is pretty sleazy, Josh.”
“It has ambiance.”
“It’s a dirty singles bar, ambiance isn’t the word I would use.”
“It’s a nice word.” He leans back in his chair.
She leans forward, her hands on the table. “Seriously, are you okay? You’re not like, freaking out or something?”
He shakes his head at the suggestion. “No, just thinking.”
“That much I knew.” She takes the last swig of her beer and places it down to her side, the bottle now empty.
“Its just,” he begins to say, then stops, searching for the right words. She has her eyebrows raised curiously, urging him to continue. “I thought, I just thought I would be.”
“Freaking out?” She scrunches up her nose slightly.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Cause its me.” She lets out a snort of a laugh. “You didn’t think I’d freak out?”
She shakes her hand in disagreement. “No, I figured if you got to this point you’d be okay.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” She smiles.
“Why aren’t you freaking out?” He asks her with a slight devilish smile that she recognizes easily.
She’s quiet a second. There are a thousand things she could say, some serious, some flippant. She thinks for a moment, then replies “Because we’ll be okay.”
He doesn’t respond initially, but then leans forward and sighs. He looks at her and nods his head, smiling slightly.
“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Her voice is a mix of seriousness and teasing, her interest peaked in the conversation.
He leans on his elbow, his hand under his chin. “Cause its you.” He’s honest and true and looks completely exposed, but content. She doesn’t know how to respond so she just smiles at him and reaches her hand out to squeeze his.
A moment later she says “I should probably go.”
“Yeah.”
“They’re probably waiting up for me, preparing to skin me alive.”
He laughs and kisses her hand.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” His voice is close to questioning and she gives him a curious look.
“You bet.”
“At that place we agreed on?” He’s smiling at her now. She stands up and is next to him, his arm around her waist.
“Yep, at the time that’s on all that expensive stationary.”
“Your idea.”
“Not my idea.” She leans forward and gives him a quick kiss. She loosens herself from his grip and begins walking towards the door. “You won’t be able to miss me,” she tells him over her shoulder. “I’ll be the one in the overpriced satin.”
He smiles and glances at the clock on the wall. “Hey, its after midnight.” He calls after her.
She spins around. “Is my car gonna be a garden vegetable when I go out there or something?”
“No,” his voice is quiet, but loud enough for her to hear. “Its tomorrow.”
She pushes her hair behind her ear and smiles broadly. She then turns back around and walks away.