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Post by tonilous on Jun 14, 2014 2:43:44 GMT -5
Where There's Smoke Chapter 5
Daisy spent a stressful night tossing and turning, her mind unable to settle on either replaying sweet moments from the night or a constant loop of horrifying thoughts where people were hurt. She couldn't bring herself to think worse than that. Foolish, she knew, but there it was.
She sat at the table with her coffee, barely focusing on the crossword today. She couldn’t stop thinking of how wonderful it felt to share herself with Keith. How touched she was that Keith would share his stories with Daisy. Connecting with someone on such a personal level was exhilarating and frightening at the same time, because under all of the giddy elation was real worry. We die. She just didn’t know what to think about that, could barely wrap her head around the fact that when Keith and his coworkers went to work, there was the very real possibility that they would never come back.
Bea came out of her room after Daisy had filled her second cup of coffee. She had finally come home after one in the morning the night before. Daisy had heard her tiptoeing through the house, just in case she might be disturbing something. Daisy was no longer prudish, but she also wasn't the type to hang a handkerchief on her bedroom door knob on a first date.
I like that about you. She smiled to herself at the memory.
Bea dropped a kiss on her head and shuffled to the coffee pot. “After I wake up, I expect a full report.” She plopped into her chair, laying her head on her arm, still yawning. She reached out blindly for her mug, Daisy helpfully nudging the handle in her direction.
After a few minutes, she got to business. “Spill it. Is he an amazing kisser? Did he hold your face; sometimes I like that, but sometimes I feel like I'm about to be eaten, like in that painting by Goya.”
Daisy blinked at her. “I...hmrph. Drink more of that,” She said, waving a finger at her mug. “Goya,” she muttered. “Well, yes, it turns out that he is an amazing kisser--”
She was cut off by Bea's squeal of excitement, her hands in fists working up and down as she wriggled in her chair. “I knew he would be! He seems so...passionate.”
Rolling her eyes, Daisy waved her hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, you know everything.” She sighed unhappily, flicking the ball point on her pen in and out, distracted by her thoughts about Keith.
“Okay,” Bea said, her authoritative, leader-that-will-be-obeyed voice coming out. “What gives? These are not happy sighs; these are not 'I met the man of my dreams and we're going to run off and get married and adopt a beautiful baby girl and name her Bea after my dearest friend who encouraged me in the first place' sighs.”
“I am not naming my daughter after you, Bea.”
“Traitor.”
“It's--” Daisy paused, looking off in the middle distance. “You know what he does for a living.”
“...and?”
“Bea.” Her jaw dropped, irritated by her flippant attitude when she was turning herself inside out with worry and want. “Yes, let’s just ignore the fact that he’s a death-defying hero for a living. He's-- Bea, he's amazing.”
Bea slid her hands across the table, taking Daisy's. “I know.”
“And I had the best time with him, but it's all so fast; everything is happening so quickly. It's almost more than I can deal with.”
“Daisy,” she said quietly, waiting for Daisy to look at her. “When it's right, you know it. It doesn't matter when it happens. Just that it does.” She gave her hands a squeeze and then wrapped hers around her coffee mug for a sip, returning one back for Daisy to hold while she thought. “Besides, life-threatening situations count as like, three dates. You two are on your fifth date by now, emotionally speaking.”
Daisy snorted indelicately at that, then slipped back into feeling frustrated. She really was trying to be adult about this, to not give into the wild emotions and impulsive actions of her youth but make smart decisions that wouldn't hurt her in the end. It really sucked.
“Bea, and I'm sorry for what I'm about to say, but it's important. You felt that way about Harry.”
Her hand spasmed in Daisy's, taken aback, but she didn't let go. “If there was a way to make Broadway and Cutler Tire & Lube exist in the same city, I'd still feel that way.”
“Oh, B.”
“No, we're talking about you. I'm okay. Really,” she stressed seeing her look of disbelief. “And that is an entirely different situation. Harry is there. For good. Keith is here. I'm sorry, but with everything Damian has told me about Keith, he seems perfect for you.”
That piqued Daisy's interest. “And what all has Damian told you?”
“Nothing juicy,” she laughed. “He seemed to realize that I would tell you anything he told me, so I only got the Readers Digest version of Keith Harkin, The Man, The Myth, The Cutie.”
They compared notes, and she was right; she didn't know anything Keith hadn't told her already. She felt slightly disloyal, trying to get information from anyone other than him. Keith would tell her things when he was ready.
Bea in turn filled Daisy in on her night with some friends from last year's summer stock. They lapsed into comfortable silence, finishing their breakfasts. Daisy wanted to talk to her about Keith some more, how solid she felt with him, how she could see a future they could build together, saw them progressively aging and being happy and fulfilled, but it felt silly to have such feelings after only one proper date. It also still felt too precious to share, those feelings of contentment and longing.
-8-
Daisy spent the day unpacking the rest of her things in the closet-turned-bedroom-turned-workspace. She installed a series of floating shelves along one wall to hold all of her costuming supplies, patterns, fabrics and notions, pleased to finally have a place as her official office and workroom. Tomorrow she would have to contend with Giovanna and her refusal to maintain the same costume during the show's full run, so she pulled out her patterns to sew yet another garment for her, cleverly disguising support panels under the thick satin.
That ought to hold her for at least a week.
She was snipping loose threads later that night when her phone buzzed.
Hey. Thinking of you. K
She held the phone in both hands, delighted at the impromptu message. Her thumbs blazed along the keypad after a moment. And just what were you thinking? :)
She set the phone down and made herself walk to the kitchen to refill her water glass. She was not going to sit in a chair waiting for a text. She only filled her water glass halfway and was back in her chair quickly because she was tired from all the unpacking and building, that's all. She even made a point of putting her thread back on the spool rack before picking the phone up after she saw another text had come through.
How much I enjoyed last night.
Daisy couldn't help herself, she held the phone to her chest and gave herself the chance to just smile and feel happy for a minute. She sat back in her chair, twirling one foot in the air as she worried her lip, thinking to herself, Come on. Just go for it.
She typed back, Me, too. How about a repeat? Wed or Thurs?
Daisy grabbed the dust pan and tidied up her space, put all the costumes on the garment rack, zipped them up so they would be ready for transport, and tried to not glance at her phone too often, which wouldn't have mattered because there wasn't a response.
She set the kettle on to make some tea and a little snack, not paying attention to the continued lack of response on her phone. Then, she sat at the table; she put her phone on the nearby counter just in case of emergency, that was all, and filled in the rest of the crossword that Bea hadn't been able to solve. Again, not checking her phone, which would have been a waste of time because there still wasn't a reply.
There probably wasn't a reply because Daisy was being really forward and that was maybe unattractive and why couldn't she just play coy and relaxed and not excited about seeing Keith, because the first thing she wanted do would be to pull him into her arms to kiss him and wrap her body around Keith's and smell him and just be there and that was why there wasn't a response, because clearly she was some kind of maniac. What had Keith said? “I'm a little old fashioned, too.”
How about a repeat? Daisy may as well have texted: Come naked.
Then she couldn't stop wondering how all of that training and exercise would make Keith look, and that's when her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her quickly deteriorating mental hold on herself.
Clearing her throat, she calmly picked up her phone, smoothing the hair above her ear before reading Keith's message.
Sorry, admin. stuff kept me from you. Thursday is perfect.
Daisy couldn't help herself, besides, Bea was out. She let out a ridiculously happy noise, then calmed herself before replying. I'll call later in the week with plans?
Almost immediately, Please. Be sure to tell me the dress code. 'Nite. Sweet dreams.
Dress code. Keith wanted to dress appropriately. For Daisy Oh, he was just too good to be true. Daisy sent him back a smile and this time, she was able to follow through on the dreams.
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Post by tonilous on Jun 14, 2014 23:10:44 GMT -5
The week went on as usual, Giovanna was a nightmare, the weird homeless man that always called her “Sister” on her subway ride home still smelled, well, homeless, the NowCasting sheets continued to specify female parts that Daisy couldn't get in a million years with her lithe build and higher-pitched voice, but somehow it just didn't seem as stressful as it had the week before.
Every now and then Keith would text “Hi” or “Looking forward to Thursday.” Each time it would thrill Daisy to her Gucci loafers (hard win on Ebay, still in the original velvet bags, a fraction of the original price), knowing she had something to look forward to. Someone to look forward to.
She had bounced around a multitude of ideas for their date, and settled on the old stand-by of dinner and ...? She wanted to spend time talking, getting to know Keith as much as she could. A movie or show wouldn't give her that opportunity. She informed Keith that the dress code would be “dressy casual – interpret as you will.”
She sent quickly on the heels of that, NO synthetic fibers. ;)
Keith wanted to meet at the fire station, since it was closer to Daisy's than his own apartment. That took care of any romantic gestures such as bringing a cake or balloons or flowers; Daisy wasn't prepared to waltz into his place of work with a bunch of calla lilies. Besides, Keith probably didn't keep proper vases in his office. Not many people did, which showed a real lack of imagination on their part.
She had dressed carefully, wanting – as always – to appear effortlessly chic, yet was practical enough to think about...well. Where the night could go. A nice, blue dress, tights, and boots, and her accessories were simple, as well. Nothing that poked or stabbed was key. They were perfect for crowded subways, not so much for dates where you hoped to end up in someone's arms.
Keith had messaged her that he would be downstairs waiting for her, so Daisy walked the short distance to the station house and saw him talking with a few of the men on duty. She wouldn't have known if the two men were tall, short, had all their limbs, or were speaking in Swahili, because she only had eyes for Keith. Dark wash jeans, rolled at the ankle - ankles again - pale pink Oxfords, Daisy had always found it to be a good sign when a man was confident enough to wear pink, topped with a sandy-colored, linen blazer.
Keith hadn't seen her yet, so Daisy had a chance to watch him, how he naturally was with his coworkers and friends. The two men appeared to be hanging on his every word, Keith laughing and giving one a brief shoulder squeeze. He turned then, catching sight of Daisy walking up the block, and his eyes softened, his smile brighter.
Daisy had her hands clasped in front of her, nervously smiling as Keith, his hand on Daisy's waist, introduced her to the two men. Her stomach twisted in knots, thrilled but worried, as Keith casually kissed her cheek, murmuring, “You look wonderful.” Daisy, face flushing pink, chanced a glance at the two men to see if the little PDA was too much. Evidently not as one of them wished them a nice night and the other went back to testing equipment.
Okay, then. They're all okay with it. Her shoulders dropped a little of the tension she'd been carrying since that night at the pub. Keith kept his hand at her waist, an intimate smile all for Daisy. “Where to?”
She hooked her arm through the crook of Keith's elbow and led him down the street. “Remember our little tour last week?”
“As if I'd forget,” Keith chuckled.
She hummed happily. “Well, to show you that I was paying attention, I made reservations at the Thai restaurant you kept talking about.”
“Rambled about, more like.” Keith was practically bouncing with excitement next to Daisy.
So I guess I picked the right spot.
“Really, Daisy, they have the most amazing duck in red curry sauce...”
Keith filled her in on all the best dishes, squeezing her hand and pulling her in even closer as his enthusiasm built. Daisy couldn't help but laugh; he seemed so buoyant and fun tonight, where as the last few times they'd seen each other, he had come off as more self-contained. Not immune to fun, more like he had forgotten he was allowed to have any and was finally remembering that it was okay.
“Cutler. For two,” Daisy told the hostess. She led them to a cozy table tucked in the back where a few other couples were seated. They had a moment where they both moved to pull the chair out for each other, laughed, and sat themselves.
“We'll have to coordinate who gets to be more genteel before the next date,” Keith said, his eyes sparkling with good humor as he laid his napkin in his lap. "Although I prefer it should be me all the time, seeing as you are the lady."
Daisy waved her hand. She was the one that invited him. “Then I call tonight. Prepare to have doors opened for you like you've never had them opened before,” She said with one eye brow raised. “But you're on your own if any horse-drawn carriages splash mud on your petticoats. I'm wearing silk, so it's every man for himself.”
Keith smiled at him and held Daisy's gaze to the point where she felt self-conscious and dropped her eyes to her menu. She felt Keith's foot nudge hers under the table, which eased her worries that there was something hideous on her face. Daisy was out of practice at feeling attractive. She knew her clothes were stylish and fit her impeccably, but she always thought of herself physically as something abstract. Something to dress nicely, like a mannequin. She wanted to look nice because that's what one did. She hadn't spent much thought beyond that to the “someone is noticing how I look and likes what they see” aspect.
It was a little unnerving and a lot exciting.
“So,” Daisy said brightly. “How was your day, Captain?”
Keith laughed quietly and bit his lip. Daisy made a mental note to keep the nickname; embarrassing Keith was turning out to be one of her favorite things. It was up there with seeing Keith, kissing Keith, and Keith.
“It was just fine. No cats in trees, Timmy didn't fall in the well.” Keith set his menu down, clasped his hands on the table and asked, his expression and voice softening. “And how was yours, dear?”
Dear. Daisy had been given nicknames throughout the years, almost all of them teasing. Princess, Porcelain, and some just made up on the spot. Her dad called her “kid,” everyone special to her simply called her “Daisy.” On the surface she knew it was Keith being funny, but deep down, she felt like a tap had been turned on and she was filling up. The thought of being someone's, this someone's dear made her feel more than a little weak-kneed.
She flashed to one of her few and faded memories of her mother, kissing her father when he came home from work, asking him, “How was your day, darling?” and they'd hold each other and sway and kiss and smile and she was such a happy little girl then. Everything was right in her world. Her mom was Sweetheart and her dad was Darling and everything had felt perfect to little seven year old Daisy. For the first time in her adult life, she knew that she could be, would be happy, would be that happy again.
Daisy looked at the handsome and kind man sitting across the table from her; the one that was giving her that burgeoning hope for a potentially blissful future. It would be wrong to sweep everything off the table with her forearm and throw herself to him. That wasn't something that Daisy could do, she told herself in a very stern voice. It came incredibly close to happening, though.
Instead, she quietly cleared her throat and buried her face behind her menu, giving her cheeks a moment to cool. “It was just fine. I managed to avoid the cat hoarder - I can only assume he is, given the pungent smell that follows him like a cloud - that calls me 'Sister' on the subway this week. I haven't decided if he thinks I'm his relative or a nun.”
The waiter took their orders and quickly returned with two martinis, something light she had promised would go well with their dinner. Daisy found she had a hard time catching her breath, and it seemed timed with each nudge of Keith's foot against hers.
“So tell me, Captain; what's the funniest, most ridiculous call you've had at the station?”
“You mean besides burned tofu?"
“Ha.”
Keith chuckled. “Let's see, fake Santa or fake family, which one?”
Eyes wide, Daisy replied, “Uh...let's start with fake family.”
“We got toned out, um, got a call, just before midnight about a year or so ago. Older woman, six apartment walk-up, her family was trapped in the upstairs storage where a fire was melting them alive.”
“Oh my god!”
Keith, eyes closed, shook his head. “No, hang on. We roll out with full truck and engine crews, EMTs, race up to the top floor, bust the door to the attic, which was locked from the outside.” He took a sip from his drink and continued. “We see smoke, and there's this horrendous smell. Have you ever smelled burnt sugar? It's awful. The whole room was filled with that smell plus burning plastic. We find that she's stuck some old dolls up there and was having a birthday party for them. With a cake. We never figured out why she left them, but she did; the candles caught the whole thing on fire and the dolls were warped and melted into the cake. It took all of five minutes to contain and report back in. She told us that she didn't think we'd give her dolls the 'respect they deserved' if she'd told 911 they weren't actually people.”
“Well, now I'm terrified to hear about fake Santa.”
Keith laughed, his fingers flicking the end of the cocktail napkin close to Daisy's hand. Daisy could feel the warmth from his fingers. At least she imagined she could. Her hand was right there, it would be nothing to just hold it. Just go right on ahead and touch it. Reach right over the inch or two separating them and just lace her fingers with Keith's. Any minute now. She could do that. Maybe.
Instead, Keith reached his index finger out and traced the tip along the edge of Daisy's fingers. Or this is fine, this is totally okay with me.
“Fake Santa was my first year at the station. Chimney fire, and in these old places that can be really dangerous. I'm one of the two on the roof, the rest are manning the truck or inside, locating the floor. Flames are shooting out of the top of this thing. We hear on the comm that the guys downstairs found the source and are blocking off the air flow. The fire was actually inside the chimney tower, not in a fireplace. We get the hose down and blast at it for a minute until it's just smoke.”
Daisy can't imagine standing on the roof of a tall building, standing next to flames shooting out of something, and being able to analytically break down what's happened. Then again, Keith probably couldn't deal with three tenors getting into a cat fight in the wings before tapping out for “One” from A Chorus Line, so they each had their strengths.
She slid her fingers forward, trapping Keith's with hers. “What was it? In the chimney?”
“Well. We fed down a hook to pull out whatever had been the incendiary, and I see this charred red coat with white fur. I won't lie to you, I got sick to my stomach and my knees buckled. Turns out that it was one of those life-sized, store-front Santa Clauses, though. The owner of the house had stolen it previously, jammed it in the chimney to excite his kids or something, and forgot about it. And then built a fire.”
“Keith, that's...that's kind of scary. People could have really been hurt.”
Keith pulled his hand back, his features smoothing out a bit to cool politeness. “That's what I do, Daisy. These are the calls we laugh at.”
He was trying to tell her something, Daisy understood that, but she didn't know what to do with it. The ones Keith thought of as “funny” or “ridiculous” still left her filled with dread. What if he had fallen off the roof? What if the people in the attic weren't dolls but were real?
“Hey. Daisy.”
She blinked; Keith's face looking so tired and sad all of a sudden. “Daisy, this is...this is the reality. But--” He sighed. “--we're really good at what we do. I'm really good at what I do.”
Daisy held one hand out, palm up. Keith took her up on the offer. She traced her finger along the callouses on the pads of his fingertips, along the edge of his palm. “The thought of you getting hurt...” She said softly, “That's--” She exhaled sharply, looking into his eyes. She wanted Keith to know that he mattered to her, his well being, his being around for a long time. It was completely selfish of Daisy. She was completely okay with that. She just didn’t know how to say it yet.
They sat like that, touching, but distant, until their food arrived. Daisy had never felt less like eating. Keith didn't have the same concerns, it seemed, as he immediately began spooning curries and vegetables onto his plate, encouraging Daisy to try the Pad See Ew.
Daisy was able to shake off the dread that had crept in during Keith's stories and focus on what was happening now. She was out with a gorgeous and charming man, they were eating delicious food-- Keith had definitely been right about that-- and when she wasn't worried about possible horrendous outcomes, found that she was really enjoying herself.
They finished their meal with far more relaxed chatter. Keith spent several minutes trying to convince her to read some dystopian novel that he had found at the fire station.
She laughed. “Clearly you’ve never been to Virginia, or you’d know that I’ve already lived a dystopian novel. And you know...” Daisy wiped the corner of her mouth and laid her napkin on the table. “I’ve always much preferred the romances where they have a happily ever after.” She flashed a cheeky grin at him as she moved aside for the waiter to remove her plate.
Keith smiled down at his hands resting at the edge of the table, murmuring a “thank you” as the waiter removed his plate as well.
Daisy paid the check, pleased yet slightly embarrassed by the sincere thank you from Keith. They headed outside; streetlights and billboards weren't as romantic to gaze at as the stars would have been, but that was one of the prices you paid for living in the city.
She looked up at the sky for a moment before asking, “Feel like walking?”
Keith shrugged his jacket on, seemed to think better of it, and pulled it off again to drape over one arm. “Yeah, that'd be nice.”
She smiled and smoothed the front of his shirt, made bunchy from pulling off his jacket. Keith caught her hand and held it to his chest for a moment, stealing a quick kiss from her cheek. “I'm sorry if I've ruined your plans, I didn't mean to make things uncomfortable for you earlier.”
It was Daisy's turn to steal her own kiss as she rubbed her thumb across Keith's chest where her hand was still held. “You didn't ruin anything. Now,” she chirped, sliding his arm through the crook of her elbow. “Which direction is your place? Because I need to see pictures of you in high school. There has to have been an awkward phase, something to make you seem more human.”
Laughing, Keith pointed across the street, towing Daisy along. “Awkward phase? I don't know what you mean.”
She cuddled in a bit, letting him lead the way, and said, “Then I demand to see pictures of you as a ten year old.”
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Post by HburgEagle44 on Jun 15, 2014 1:35:44 GMT -5
Aw, so cute.
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Post by tonilous on Jun 15, 2014 22:07:46 GMT -5
They had easy conversation on the long walk to Keith's apartment on the other side of the neighborhood from where Daisy lived. It was starting to get a little muggy, so Daisy was grateful when Keith pointed at his home. His apartment felt cozy. It wasn't her first choice in furniture and style, but it suited him. Dark wood, well worn leather chairs, old pieces of furniture that looked as if they had been thoughtfully collected over the years.
Daisy excused herself to freshen up; if there was one thing Daisy Cutler hated, it was sweating. It felt so undignified. She was pleased to see that the hallway was tidy, as was the restroom.
So he's not a secret slob...
There were two doors on the right, the first led to the facilities, the other – and the door was open, she wasn't being nosy, well, not too nosy – was to Keith's bedroom. She filed away the fact that the bed was large, looked incredibly comfortable, and wasn't overly crowded with pillows. It was hard to get to bed quickly when you had to spend a few minutes moving decorative pillows.
Mostly she was just concerned for his ability to get a good night's sleep, that was all. She didn't have any other thoughts about how warm and inviting the whole bedroom looked. She certainly didn’t think of sneaking in there to test the mattress’s comfort level with a few bounces. She didn’t have any thoughts like that. None at all. That would be pushy and nosy, and Daisy was never--
Okay, she was pushy and nosy, but she knew she shouldn’t be. So she didn't peek in the medicine cabinet, she didn't open any drawers; she washed her hands, face and neck, smoothed her hair as much as possible, and felt filled with virtue. She cleared her throat and patted a little cold water onto her cheeks to cool them down.
She found Keith in the kitchen pouring them glasses of ice water. “I have other things, beer... I can make you a drink if you'd prefer?”
“No, this is fine, thank you.”
There was a photograph on the fridge of an older woman that must be Keith's mother. She had the same big smile, the same pale complexion and blonde hair; she had her arms wrapped around Keith's waist.
“My mother. We took that at the end of the summer last year.”
Daisy looked at Keith before turning back to the picture. “I'm going to have to ask her what she uses in her hair to get that shine.”
He laughed. “Well, next time I talk with her, I'll ask.”
“Does she live close by?”
He looked over her shoulder, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He ran his hand down Daisy's arm, tugging her towards the living room. Daisy settled into the Chesterfield far enough to the middle that she could accidentally on purpose bump knees with Keith, except for how he sat in the large chair next to the sofa, instead.
“She does not live close by,” He replied coolly. “She's about twenty-one hours away when you're lucky to get only one stop-over.”
Daisy sat there, not sure how to broach the topic. Either Keith would want to tell her or he wouldn't. She thought about having her dad be so far away and felt a shudder. Even after eight years of not living in her dad's house full time, she still thought of it as home, and it was because of who was there waiting for her.
Keith looked as if he was carefully choosing his words. “After my father...died, living here was too much for her. Oh, this was my house growing up.”
That's why it feels so comfortable and lived in.
“It was just...too many memories here. Her life was pretty wrapped up with my father. Her family back in Donegal wanted us to move in with them. Family's important, and back there families all just live together. That's weird here in the States, I know, but...” He trailed off with a shrug.
“But you stayed.”
Keith shifted in his chair, sinking down into it. Daisy had another of her heartaches for him; he looked so alone.
“Well, yeah. I had my job, the guys – oh, and Sonja's one of the guys, she told us to call her that – and they've been my family since I can remember. I grew up playing in the fire station; the older guys were like my uncles. We didn't have enough money to fly back to Ireland often, so I didn't really know those people. Like I said--” he hesitated for a moment, then took a sip of water. “--family is important.”
Daisy curled into the side of the sofa, facing Keith and propping her head on her hand. “When my mother died, it was really just the two of us, my dad and I. I have a distant aunt, but my dad can't stand her, so...” She shrugged. “It was just the two of us. When I was in high school, he had been dating a woman, they're married now, Anne, but she was just the woman my dad was seeing, because she hadn't been there since I was little, you know? She was nice, I liked her very much, but I had been the one that made sure he ate vegetables, I had been the one that made sure he wasn't killing himself with work, I was the one that had always been there for him like he'd always been there for me.”
Keith traced his finger along the edge of the glass, staring intensely at the ice cubes.
“Keith, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to turn this into something about m--”
“No, please.” He looked up at her with watery eyes. “Please, I want to know.”
Daisy sighed, staring at her hands in her lap, wanting nothing more than to reach out and hold on to him, for both of their sakes. Remembering that horrible time brought all of those fears back again.
“Well.” She sighed. “After a period of time that felt like forever, it was okay to let someone else help me care for him. She's pretty great, Anne. And you met Harry.” She glanced over at Keith, who had the side of his face resting on the edge of the chair, watching her intently.
The distance between them was like a deep ache in her bones, the kind that was hard to reach. That, coupled with the painful memories of that horrible time in her life, made her want to connect with Keith more fully, make him see that Daisy knew a fraction of what he felt, and help them both shake off that agony so they could move forward. Maybe even together.
“I understand, Keith. Family. It's important. Please come sit with me.”
He rose and held his hand out; when Daisy took it, he tugged her to his lap. The large chair was nice, but Keith's arms wrapped around her, holding her, that was where the comfort was. Keith pressed his face to her neck, just breathing her in.
Keith's voice was a quiet rumble against Daisy's skin. “You know. Other people, they don't get what it's like to lose someone. But you know.” He tilted his head back looking up at Daisy as the knuckles of his hand traced pathways along her cheek, “And you're so...it sounds crazy, but I don't know how else to describe you, you're so alive. I know what it was like for you growing up back there, I know the things you've had to deal with. But you're just...”
His hand trailed to her chest, thumb working lightly over Daisy's collarbone, eyes downcast. “You're the most determined person I've ever met. You just...push forward. You're happy.”
Daisy ran her hand through Keith's hair, tugging them a little to get him to look her in the eye. “Well, I'm a Cutler. That's who we are.” She grinned lopsidedly and continued raking her fingers through his hair.
“Your dad must be a heck of a guy.”
Daisy laughed. “He is. He taught me to not back down from what I want in life.”
“It shows.” His arms tightened around her, settling his nose in her neck, tickling her. “What do you want in life?” he murmured.
“Nngh, for you to not stop doing that, for one,” She breathed.
Keith seemed happy to oblige. “But really. Tell me.”
Daisy played with his hair after he buried his face in the crook of her neck, evidently content with listening. “It turns out that I really enjoy design. This would come as no surprise to anyone I knew back home, but I always imagined myself on stage. The problem is getting on stage. I'm not going to stop trying, I don't know how to do that--”
He murmured against her neck, squeezing her for a brief moment. She would be perfectly fine with never moving from where she was, as long as Keith kept doing that to her skin.
“Mm. But I'd love to branch out from just theater. It would be amazing to design for the next Gaga. So I want that; I want a Tony for best performance, best musical, best everything for my as-yet-unwritten one woman show, Daisy Cutler: The Daisy Cutler Experience,” She quipped. “There will be, of course, multiple costume changes and plenty of original music.”
She felt her heart racing, a little afraid of saying out loud what she really wanted, as she was becoming more aware that she might actually be close to getting it. Keith's palm began to skim up and down Daisy's back.
“What else?” He asked, his voice muffled.
This is crazy, this is...gah. Daisy shuddered out a breath. “Someone to share it with, of course.”
Keith's hand stilled on her back for the briefest of moments, then started its circuitous path again. “What's this someone like?”
“Oh, he's ridiculously tall, dark-haired, a brilliant mathematician, hideous face; I don't want him to outshine me-- Ahh!”
Keith had tipped Daisy forward over the edge of the chair, laughing, before pulling her back and settling her next to him, pulling her legs over his lap and the arm of the chair.
“Dark-haired, huh?”
Daisy's grin stretched from ear to ear. “Love it, especially when it comes from a bottle.” She wrapped one of Keith's locks around her finger. “It speaks of vanity and insecurity, mm, can't get enough of that in a man.”
Keith chewed on the inside of his cheek, a smile fighting to break free, she was amused to see. He cleared his throat. “So let me make sure I've got it, in case I find this guy for you.”
“Very considerate of you; go ahead.”
"Dark-haired, but fake dark.”
Daisy buried both hands into Keith's hair, massaging his scalp a little. “Mm hmm.”
“Ugly, that's key, right?”
“Essential.”
“And he's smart, but only in the area of adding up numbers and solving formulas.”
She made a mental note to add teasing Keith to her list of favorite things to do. She purred, “It's the musty smell of chalk boards; it makes me go crazy,”
“Now, mrph--Daisy...” He sighed, feigning frustration, “--when you say tall...”
She cupped Keith's face. “I mean so long and lanky that a strong wind will knock him over. Bony to the point of being ungainly.”
He sighed, closing his eyes as Daisy kissed him gently. “Sounds unbelievable.”
She pulled back, hooking a finger under the crisp collar of Keith's button-down and affecting dismayed melancholy. “Fantasies usually are.”
Keith shook with quiet laughter. Daisy shifted in the chair so she could lay her head on his shoulder, running her finger tip along the front placket of his shirt. “What about you? What do you want?” She quietly asked.
“Shouldn't I be in your lap, Santa?”
Daisy flicked one of Keith's buttons. “Hrmph. Really, though.”
He settled in, keeping her close. “I want for my career to stay as it is now, with people I care about and trust. I'm not that interested in moving up the ladder; I didn't think I'd be where I was by now, truthfully.”
“Let's put an asterisk on that for later.”
“Mm. I want to finish out the spare bedroom – my old room – and turn it into a place where I could maybe play music. I have an upright piano jammed in there under boxes, somewhere.”
“So, big dreams?”
Keith laughed, squeezing her side with one hand. “Hey, I had to hear about Sven the giant skeletal math nerd.”
They held each other for a moment, quiet and still. Daisy felt like she was on the brink of something monumental, and was facing the choice of tipping one way or the other over the edge.
When she was back in Virginia, she'd felt so isolated from her friends who had dated, loved, broke up, got back together, all with what seemed a relative ease. And all while Daisy sat and watched from the outside, alone. She'd had to deal with it all alone. Her friends did their best when they remembered, even her teachers tried to help, but they couldn't understand; it wasn't going to happen to them.
When she'd moved to New York, she'd brought her simplistic and hopeful fantasy that once she was here, she would be free of all of the fetters from her small town. She would be happy, free, and able to find love in abundance. That didn't happen because that wasn't how life worked, she'd discovered. She had come close on different occasions, met new people, had life come at her hard and fast, and she'd learned a lot more about herself. She could stand strong on her own, and she didn't need to waste her time with people who couldn't do likewise. She'd realized she didn't need to be in a constant whirlwind of social events and have date after meaningless date to be happy.
She knew what she wanted, and she was a Cutler: when they wanted something, they went for it.
But. Every time she let herself fantasize about what life might be with Keith, she couldn't help but remember we die. Nothing had frightened or isolated Daisy like the thought of losing her dad. She just didn't know if she could give someone her heart only to have it destroyed. Protecting herself from being hurt had long been ingrained in her, and she didn't know how to let that go, even when the payoff was someone as thoughtful and wonderful as Keith seemed to be. She just didn't know.
Keith broke the silence. “I mentioned that I hadn't really dated since my dad passed, right?”
Daisy nodded.
“Honestly, I didn't date much before that. I either met girls that just liked the whole fireman image--” He looked sideways at Daisy, smiling softly while nudging her shoulder. “--or that didn't even matter to them at all. They were just looking for someone for the night. That's, um, not really my thing.”
He threaded his fingers through the back of Daisy's hair, feeling so good and warm that she closed her eyes and leaned in towards the pleasant heat that just seemed to always pour off of his body.
Keith continued. “I really want to find someone that will care for me, will let me care for them, as well. Someone kind and fun and charming. Someone tough on their own, but not with me. I want a reason to come home.”
Daisy's chest ached. She let out a shuddery sigh and slipped her arm behind Keith to hold him more closely. “Sounds like an amazing person.”
“Mm hm. She is. So far.”
“Keith...I--” Daisy pulled back, needing to look into his eyes. “I don't know what it is about you-- Well, that's not true. You're handsome and sweet, you're a perfect gentleman, and I can barely think straight when I'm with you.”
He began to open his mouth to say something, but Daisy stopped him, needing him to understand. “But.”
He closed his eyes, turning his head slightly away and sighed. “But.”
“But. I have a hard time with loss. I think you can understand that. No, I know you can. You're someone I could really care about.” Daisy turned his face back, waiting for Keith to look at her again. “This is incredibly hard for me to say this to you. I don't...I don't do this. Set myself up for hurt, I don't do that.” Well, not for a long time.
It seemed like Keith was holding his breath. That makes two of us. She inhaled deeply. “I'm trying to remember that I might not get hurt. But it's not easy for me, not after years of being proven wrong.”
“This is who I am, Daisy. This is the life I have. And I don't want to get hurt, either. Before I fall too--” Keith sighed as he stroked his thumb back and forth along the sensitive tendon in her neck, sending chills and heat down her spine in equal measure. “Before I get in too deep, I need to know that you're not going to turn tail and run if I have a bad day at work.”
Daisy choked out a bitter laugh, drawing him into her arms and holding him close. “Bad day?”
Keith pushed himself back enough to take her face in his hands and look into her eyes, pleading. “That's what it is. It's a bad day. But, you know, without hyperbole.”
Shaking slightly, Daisy nodded briskly and gently kissed Keith, just a soft pressure of lips. “Okay,” she breathed. “I...okay.”
Keith broke their kiss, nuzzling the hair behind her ear. He whispered, “I need you to understand.” His strong hands were flat on Daisy's back, holding her so tightly. “I need you.”
There wasn't enough air. It was that, or Daisy's chest couldn't expand enough. She just wasn't sure. She didn't know if she could trust herself to make a smart decision when he held her like that, said things like he needed her, that he wanted her.
And what did that mean, that she was thinking of how to be there for Keith already, wanting to support him, care for him? With Thomas it had been exciting to have someone pay her interest, to have someone to do fun things with, but it had always felt like such an “in the moment” experience. With Keith she instantly pictured years ahead, how much her dad would like him, how to integrate him into her life. Surely that must mean something?
For all of the similarities she was finding that there were between them, the differences were even more intriguing. Daisy attacked every day like it was a battle for success, laughing at the naysayers. Keith watched the day, looking for ways to put out his hand and help someone else. Where Daisy gauged the best time to sing and expose herself -- she was never as exposed and open as when she sang -- Keith leaped on stage with his showman’s performance, a mask of bravado and confidence that Daisy was just beginning to recognize.
Daisy teased about her feelings, always ready to pull them back as if she was only joking. Keith laid himself bare, hoping Daisy would accept him. And she wanted to, oh, he wanted to so much. But she was completely terrified of being shattered into pieces, pulverized by the very real “what if” that came along with falling for Keith Harkin.
“Daisy,” Keith pleaded. “Kiss me.”
It would be so easy to let go, to fall into whatever could be with him. She poured all of her wishes and needs into kissing Keith, trying to express the feelings building in her that she couldn't yet say. Daisy held his face as she kissed him softly, pulling back and trying to not let herself get carried away.
Too late.
“I...I think I need to go.”
Keith didn't answer, but his hands continued to slide up under Daisy's sweater, fingertips lightly ghosting down her sides, just to repeat the pattern all over again.
“Keith.”
“I know.”
“I don't want to go. But I think I need to.”
“I don't want you to leave,” He replied, kissing the corner of Daisy's mouth. “But I think I understand.”
Daisy shuddered at the touch, at Keith's warm body, his rough and strong hands, his sweet mouth. “Please don't be mad,” she whispered, almost afraid to look him in the eyes and see him upset, or worse, hurt.
“Hey. Hey,” Keith said, pulling her close for a hug. “I'm not. I couldn't be.”
“I really just can't think clearly when you do that,” She said, kissing his hair. “And you deserve it. Me really thinking. I don't want to hurt you.”
They sat like that for a few moments, arms wrapped around each other, still and aware of the line they'd come close to crossing.
Daisy pulled back. “Can I call you tomorrow?”
“You better,” He replied, not able to smile but tracing his knuckles down her cheek.
She extricated herself from his hold, only to wrap him back up in a tight embrace at the door, not ready to leave just yet. She gave him a lingering kiss outside in the hallway, followed by another lingering kiss behind his ear after promising to call tomorrow.
She turned back at the bottom of the stairs and saw Keith standing in the doorway, alone, watching her leave. It took a lot to not run back up there and stay the night.
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Post by tonilous on Jun 16, 2014 15:49:29 GMT -5
Where There's Smoke Chapter 6
They spent the next week sending each other texts or talking casually about their days on the phone for hours at a time. Daisy danced around the big topic they weren't ready to address yet, thinking on the surface that she was putting things back at a normal pace when all she was really doing was insinuating Keith more and more into her life, and vice versa.
She knew this wasn’t some cute guy with a crooked smile at a coffee shop wanting to go to the movies. This wasn’t the interesting boy from her Stagecraft class who wanted to hold hands and talk about three-dimensional stage design. This was someone that would be significant. Someone that would either the one big regret of her life for not seeing where it could go, or the one big regret for not walking away before their hearts were shattered.
Keeping Keith at arms-length while she sorted her feelings out was essential, Daisy thought, but she hated feeling like she couldn't see him without diving head-first into heartbreak. After a week passed, she thought she'd come closer to making a decision, albeit the agonizing one where she didn't think she could pursue anything with him.
The television had been on in the background as Daisy went about cleaning the house, when a news story broke in during the show she was watching. There had been a fire earlier that evening in New Jersey, one that resulted in two people's deaths.
She sat down abruptly watching the visuals of the trucks, ambulances, flames engulfing someone's home. But most importantly were the men in their tan fire-proof gear racing up and down ladders, shouting instructions to one another, running into the flames. It wasn't that she couldn't see the heroism in what they did, racing into danger for the sake of others. It's that there were two people that didn't come out of those flames. She couldn't help but instantly picture Keith running in, Keith being engulfed, Keith not coming back. She just didn't know if she had it in her to endure something like that.
“We die.”
But you don't always. It's not always the worst thing, Daisy had replied. She told herself that she needed to remember that part of the equation, as well. Mostly it felt like a decision too huge to make, too huge to even think around, let alone decide on so quickly.
An hour later, she got a text from Keith, reminding her of that first night together at the pub, how fun and sweet and engaging Daisy had found him to be.
You make me feel alive, alive, alive. I'll take my chance. 'Cause luck is on my side or something. [Hmm, if only I knew what you were thinking...]
“That makes two of us,” Daisy whispered to herself. Who was she kidding? She'd never felt anything close to this with anyone else, and especially had never experienced someone returning those feelings. It was frightening, exhilarating, and completely new territory for her. She’d heard of people falling in love quickly, but had always chalked that up to something manufactured by the Hollywood machine, noting that those movies always came out before Valentine’s Day, tres convenient. But here she was, practically doodling Mr. And Mrs. Keith Harkin on her notebook. STOP IT.
Even with all of her legitimate fears about building a relationship with Keith, Daisy had to admit that there were more things about him that thrilled and excited her. Keith was so easy to talk with, was intelligent and funny -- if a little corny -- and had a collection of showtunes that rivaled Daisy’s. Well, almost. For a specific era, maybe. Okay, so Keith appreciated a specific time in musical theater, but that was good enough for her.
Keith was genteel and in this day and age, that was almost unheard of. A well-mannered and likable personality went a long way with her. And he didn’t seem to mind that she preferred to take things slow, and in fact, seemed to like that for himself.
They had so many similar views on things: how people should behave, what made a reality show garbage versus something really terrific, the importance of proper linen napkins with a handkerchief hem, what they loved in people that meant the most to them.
As the days stretched into a week and then beyond, she couldn't imagine hows he could have been living without Keith in her life in some way. It got to the point where Daisy couldn't go to sleep at night until she'd heard from him. Talking with him at the end of the day, sharing all of the little irritations and triumphs with someone that was sympathetic to him -- and Daisy happily reciprocating -- made her day feel complete. She couldn’t fathom a time where she wouldn’t have that luxury.
There was no getting around it; Daisy was definitely falling for him. Probably had been from the first time they had a real conversation. There seemed to be an unspoken decision between them to not push things, but to spend some time just talking to each other and getting to know as much as possible about one another. She felt subconsciously that it would be up to her to initiate further dating. It was comforting to her, knowing that things weren’t moving too fast and beyond her control.
Keith had thrown himself back into work, picking up extra shifts at the station. Daisy told him that she was worried that he was going to work himself to death until Keith mentioned that Damian and Emmet were pitching in as well. One of their teammates had just become a father, and everyone was helping him with time off so he could spend it with his wife and newborn daughter.
Daisy had been busy for a solid week with extra fittings for Peter's show that was opening in a matter of days, and another project she'd taken on to keep the work – and paychecks – steady. It was coming close to two weeks since she'd been to Keith's house, and she was desperate to see him. Talking on the phone, falling asleep with his voice rumbling pleasantly in her ear, that was all well and good, but her body ached for him. She missed seeing her friend. She really missed kissing and holding him, feeling like she was a part of something more than just herself.
When she lucked out with a short day at the theater, able to leave several hours earlier than she had planned, she decided to get off a stop ahead to surprise Keith, who she knew was at the station. She didn't even realize until she was exiting the subway platform that she hadn't thought about the implications of ending her self-imposed separation. She tamped down any panic by telling herself that it would be like an experiment. She would use the visit as an opportunity to see if she wasn't just building up the potential for a relationship with Keith in her head.
And she knew Keith would appreciate a snack. Daisy was just being thoughtful, that was all. She did not expect anything else, just Keith's appreciation at her thoughtfulness, that would be okay. And sometimes people kissed each other to show thanks, no one had to lose their heads. Right? Really good friends sometimes pressed their...
This is crazy. “I just want to see him, okay?” She said out loud as she walked from the station.
“Okay?” some amused adolescent replied, laughing as she walked past.
She would just bring some food to Keith and be relaxed. Or try her best to look that way. Maybe see what came of it. And how tight Keith's uniform pants were.
She walked to the bodega where they had bumped into each other a few weeks prior and went to the deli counter to grab some chicken enchiladas; she remembered how Keith had gone on and on about them.
With them boxed up and ready for transport, she walked the short distance to the fire house, singing quietly under her breath most of the way, her excitement growing the closer she got to the station. She texted Keith to make sure he was still there and not out teaching children at the local PS 58 how to Stop, Drop, And Roll.
Yes, I'm still here. Why do you ask?
Daisy smiled. Oh, just wondering. Are you hungry?
Starved. John's decided we all need to be vegan.
She stopped outside the large garage doors of the station. Where are you?
...in my office? Are you here??
Daisy laughed, pocketed her phone and walked into the station. She heard a squealing slide, and looked just in time to catch sight of Captain Harkin sliding down the fire pole. Keith walked right to her and pulled her into a tight hug, his face bursting with a smile.
She couldn't help but laugh. Keith was such a boy. “I brought you something.”
She held out the bag with the enchiladas to Keith. He gaped when he realized what it was. “You are amazing, do you know that?” Keith said, a bit of awe creeping into his voice.
He grabbed Daisy into a one-arm hug and kissed her fiercely on the cheek. “Come on. I'll show you my office.”
Keith took her hand, causing her heart to lodge somewhere near her throat, and led her up a distant stairwell. When they reached the top floor, they passed the hole in the floor with the pole coming through and up over their heads.“First door on the left.”
“Oh, you mean the one that reads 'Captain Keith Harkin' on it? I never would have guessed,” Daisy teased. Keith blushed, ducking his head to hide his laugh as he opened his office door. It was utterly adorable, and Daisy wanted to make that a priority in her life, getting that reaction from him.
If that's a priority, then... Why am I fighting this? Because I'm an idiot, that's why.
Keith settled behind his desk and immediately dove into the food.
“My goodness; you were hungry.”
“You have no idea,” he said after swallowing a bite of an indecent amount of food. “And to what do I owe the extreme pleasure of seeing you at this time of day? I thought you said Peter had a ton of things to go through with you?”
Daisy crossed her legs, leaning back comfortably in the chair across from his desk, unable to control the happy smile on her face at finally seeing Keith again. “I happen to be incredibly good at what I do and was able to guess what he was going to complain about before I even got there. So.”
Keith had eaten almost half of the food in the short time they'd been there in his office. He took a sip from his drink, cracked a smile and replied, “Lucky me.”
Daisy sat across from him, beaming, pleased to have pleased him with something so simple. “I hope you've had an apple or something green, at least. Otherwise, I'm going to feel incredibly guilty for giving you something so caloric.”
He scooped the last bite into his mouth, groaned with pleasure, and leaned back, eyes closed. “Oh my god, those are my favorite. And yes, I had a huge salad earlier. John doesn't know how to do vegan other than leafy greens so far.”
It was just food; it was just a little thing she had brought to his work, knowing that he liked it. And yet... it felt incredibly intimate. It was such a domestic moment between the two of them, talking about their days over a meal. Daisy couldn't deny how content it made her feel, how it brought back happy memories of her mother and father sharing pet names over dinner at the end of the day.
Keith wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin and sat back, fingers laced behind his head and grinning at Daisy. “Hi.”
“Hello.” She couldn't help but match his smile. She simply felt...good when she was with him. “Tough day?”
He continued smiling before shaking his head a little. “Not anymore.”
She laughed, making a dismissive gesture with her hand. “As much as I’d like to believe that my mere presence can solve all of life’s ills, the fact that black concert t-shirts and polyester still exist in this world has proven otherwise.”
“Come 'ere,” Keith asked, holding one hand out. Daisy rolled her eyes, still smiling, and walked around his desk. Keith tugged her down for a kiss, just a gentle press of lips. “I've missed you.”
She sighed, melting into his embrace. “I've missed you, too.” She pulled back, looking into his face, realizing just how accurate that was. She sat on the edge of Keith's desk, her weight back on her hands as her foot traced the inside of Keith's leg.
“I want to see you again,” he said quietly, his voice low and husky as his eyes seemed to lock onto her mouth. “I don't want to pick up an extra shift just to keep my mind from thinking about how beautiful you look when I'm kissing you.”
Daisy's breath caught. She didn't know what to say. Somehow blurting out, “You're the most sensual man I've ever known and I want to wrap myself up in you and never leave” didn't seem workplace-appropriate. “Well. It turns out that I have an entire evening free, Captain.”
Keith stayed in his chair, smiling with his hands behind his head, seeming to want nothing more than to look at her. She felt a blush creeping up her neck and playfully kicked at his shin.
“Hey! Cut it out,” he laughed, “I haven't seen you in almost two weeks and needed a moment to take you in.” He heaved a huge sigh. “There, got it. Now. Tonight, hmm?”
“Oh, um, unless you're working or already had plans. I didn't mean to be--”
“Daisy,” Keith laughed. “Stop. Yes, I would love to see you tonight. Oh, you know what, it's the sing-along at Smokey's tonight. I promised some of the guys I would go, since they were evidently shocked that I came the last time.”
Daisy's heart sank. It was foolish, she knew, but she had just really missed him. “Oh.”
“Will you come with me?”
“Oh! Well. Yes, that would be lovely.”
Keith laughed. “Did you think I wasn't going to ask you? Of course I want you to come.” He reached out and grabbed her hand, tugging her back down for another kiss. “It wouldn't be the same without you,” he murmured. He pulled back to stand and position himself between Daisy's legs, holding her face and going in for another kiss. “Will you come with me?”
“O-okay,” was Daisy's shaky reply. She was glad to still be sitting on the edge of the desk, because she was almost one hundred percent sure that her knees were not in working condition.
He stepped back, seemingly pleased with himself, and dropped back into his chair, hands back behind his head. “Would you like for me to come to your place and get you, or do you want to meet there?”
If you come to my house, we're not leaving, Captain. “Um, let's meet there; that way you don't have to do all of the extra traveling. What time?”
“Eight?”
“I'll be there,” Daisy chirped, trying to get herself back under control. She stood and smoothed the front of her shirt to keep her hands occupied. She needed to let Keith get back to work, and if she didn't leave soon, she knew she'd pull him right back into her arms where he belonged.
Keith also stood, and led Daisy to the door. “And don't be fashionably late. I want as much time as you'll give me.”
She hummed, slipped an arm around his waist and drew him in for a kiss on the cheek. “Same here,” she breathed into Keith's ear, pleased to see that he looked a little undone himself.
He eyed the brass pole outside his office, but Daisy laughed and rolled her eyes. “I'll take the stairs. I'm not in my sliding pants today.” She winked. “See you tonight.”
She headed down the stairwell, and as she walked past the fire pole towards the entrance, she heard that same sliding squeal from before and felt Keith catch her around the waist and whisper against her neck, “Can't wait.”
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Post by daisyfields on Jun 16, 2014 17:01:00 GMT -5
Aww! I can't wait to see what happens at Smokey's!
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Post by HburgEagle44 on Jun 16, 2014 18:46:37 GMT -5
Me either!
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Post by barbt on Jun 17, 2014 22:03:13 GMT -5
Wow. Glad we have a functioning modem again. I've missed these.
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Post by barbt on Jun 17, 2014 22:30:01 GMT -5
This is also bringing back memories. The first man I fell seriously in love with was both a fireman and an EMT, and he told me some of the same things, almost word for word, that Keith said. We never did end up as a couple, but to this day we are the best of friends even though we are both happily married to other people. I just wish he didn't live on the other side of the country. I last saw him 4 years ago, and the time before that was 7 years before that.
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Post by tonilous on Jun 18, 2014 0:41:07 GMT -5
barbt wow, thank you so much, this means a lot to me.
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Post by tonilous on Jun 18, 2014 17:34:00 GMT -5
Where There's Smoke Chapter 7
Daisy sprawled on the small sofa - the mud mask presently drying on her face would make sure her skin was in perfect condition before seeing Keith tonight - flipping through a magazine as she waited for the timer to ding when Bea came in.
Well, stormed in was more like it.
“You know Sister?”
Daisy stiffly turned to face her, conscious of how immovable her face was. She forced just the tiniest of lip movement when she asked, “Huh?”
“Sister. Sister the weird homeless man fixated on your from the number 3 train? Ooh, is that the new avocado mask you got last week? Is it good?”
Daisy gave her a thumbs up, nodding, then made an impatient hand gesture to get her back on topic. “An'?”
“Oh, right.” Bea dropped all of her things in a huge pile at her feet, earning an irritated huff of displeasure from Daisy.
“I'll get it in a minute.” She sat at the other end of the sofa, pulling Daisy's legs into her lap. “He basically chased me through four cars wanting to know where you were. I assume so, because he kept asking for the pretty Sister lady.”
It wasn't easy to look disgruntled and offended when your immobile face was in varying shades of green mud and your bangs were held back with a terrycloth headband, but Daisy was fairly certain that she managed it. “Wha a weer'oh,”she hissed through her frozen lips.
“I was horribly traumatized by it. A very nice older man stepped in front of me and told him to leave me alone, it was incredibly chivalrous.”
Daisy turned and fixed her with a blank stare, only because her face wouldn't move into the sarcastic smirk she was thinking. “How chi-uhl-ous?”
“Daisy, no offense, but why don't we save this until you've washed that off? And he was old, so that kind of chivalrous.”
She kicked her shoes off, flinging them towards the growing pile of work materials she had shed, and sighed, resting her head on the back of the sofa. She turned her face to look at Daisy. “I didn't get the understudy role.”
It's been long enough, forget this. Daisy forced her eyebrows into a sympathetic expression, wincing slightly at the crackling sensation. “I'm sorry, B. They're idiots if they can't see how much more talented you are than whatever undeserving bimbo that got the part.”
She smiled thankfully, massaging her calves a little. Daisy gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze, then headed off to the bathroom to clean her face.
“Hey,” Bea shouted, “what's with the mask? Oh, I know! Someone has a da-ate,” she sing-songed.
Daisy dropped the washcloth in the sink and poked her head out the door. “Don't be childish, Bea.”
She patted her face dry, hung up her towel and walked calmly back to her before doing a little shimmy. “I do! I'm going to meet him for karaoke tonight.”
Bea clasped her hands together, beaming up at her. “You're going? Oh, good. Damian asked me to come, too, but I didn't want to go by myself.”
Daisy sat next to her, her thoughts all concern for her. “Not having fun anymore?”
“Oh, no, I am, I just want to keep things nice and light like they've been. Is Keith coming to get you?”
“No, I'm meeting him there.”
“Even better. I can walk with you, and then it'll feel more casual.”
“You're so weird.”
Bea giggled and tugged on Daisy's arm. “You love that about me.”
“Mm.”
-8-
Daisy had a brief moment of deja vu as she and Bea rounded the corner to Smokey’s. She ran through a mental checklist of her outfit's components and accessories. No, she wasn’t repeating anything. Bea happily picked up any slack in the conversation from her end by filling her in on the next audition she had at the Barrow Street Theater.
As they started down the stairs to the sub-street pub, Daisy saw Keith standing off to the side just at the bottom, waiting for her, and felt her heart rate speed up.
“...but I know that I have far more experience than...those chickens wearing rubber boots.” Bea elbowed her and said, “I guess we’ll finish this later.”
“Sounds like a real challenge, Bea, you can do it. Get some chicken boots of your own,” Daisy sighed, not listening at all. “Hi, Keith,” she exhaled, not paying attention to anything or anyone but the person right in front of her. She loved that Keith was impeccable outside of his uniform, traditionally preppy and undeniably handsome. The soft expression and tiniest of smiles, All for me, were the particular elements of Keith's appearance that she loved best.
Keith pulled her into a warm, full body hug and kissed her cheek. “I'm glad you came. Come say hi to Emmet and Emily.”
Daisy happily allowed herself to be towed through the pub, taken aback, but in a pleasant way, when various people from the fire house waved hello to her.
“Hey, Daisy, glad to see you made it,” Emmet greeted. “This is my fiance, Emily. Emily, this is Daisy.”
A petite woman with the most gorgeous black hair that fell down her back in a silken sheet hopped off her stool to give Daisy a hug. “I've heard so much about you! Oh my God, are those Saab shoes? Where did you get them?” she shrieked, tugging Daisy into the stool next to hers. “We don't even have those yet, who is your supplier?”
“Well, I think it's safe to say they'll get along,” Keith drawled, laughing with Emmet.
Emily and Daisy caught up on all of the latest fall designs starting to turn up, even though the summer wasn't even at the half-way point. Within moments Daisy had decided that she was fabulous, and it wasn't just because she offered to get her a discount within the first few minutes of chatting. But it didn't hurt.
Keith slipped an arm around her waist, an eyebrow cocked as he leaned in as if to make sure Daisy wouldn't mind. Daisy, eyes downcast as she fought back a smile, leaned into his arm, rubbing the flat of her hand briefly on his chest, getting a slightly bashful smile of his own in return. Keith pressed his lips close to her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “Would you like something to drink?”
Her insides were bubbling and sparkling, and a flush spread across her cheeks at the contact so freely given among Keith's friends and co-workers. “Whatever you're having is fine.”
He nuzzled her hairline behind her ear for a brief moment before continuing. “I'm having a beer, are you sure?”
“Yes, that's fine.” She wasn't completely comfortable in this environment for a PDA, but she was hungry for attention from Keith after their forced separation of the past two weeks and it was pretty dark in the pub.... She dashed a small kiss to Keith's cheek, hoping he wouldn't be offended.
Keith's eyes sparkled with amusement as he walked backwards to the bar, giving Daisy a wink before turning to talk with the bartender.
“Well!”
She turned back to Emily, who was fanning herself and smirking at her.
“Well, what?” Daisy asked, slightly embarrassed to have been watched.
Emily looked to Emmet, but he was engrossed in conversation with someone else. She spun Daisy in her bar stool so their knees were touching and pulled her over close so she could hear over the din.
“Oh! I...okay, I'm looking this way now, I guess.”
“Daisy. What have you done to Keith!”
Nothing yet! “Um, what do you mean?”
She narrowed her eyes, laughing. “You just got Keith to wink. Salaciously. In public. In front of the guys.”
“Is that not...he doesn't do that?”
“To who, Damian? Keith doesn't-- Hmm, how do I put this...”
Emmet leaned in between them and said, “Keith doesn't flirt,” and went back to his conversation. He seemed to reconsider something and leaned back, quickly adding, “Anymore.”
Daisy felt like she was getting conversational whiplash. She held Emily's hand and asked, “When's the last time Keith dated someone?”
Emily sat back, a thoughtful look on her face. “It's been a while. He wasn't seeing anyone seriously before his dad and Jerry died in that apartment fire last year. As far as I know, he's not seen anyone since.”
Daisy watched Keith at the bar, chatting easily with his co-workers, laughing and relaxed. She chewed on her bottom lip before asking, “So how he is right now? That's not how he always is?”
Emily twisted around to look at Keith over her shoulder before sighing and turning back. “He used to be. Emmet has known Keith forever, and I met Keith when Emmet and I started dating four years ago. Keith was so fun; the guys all loved him. It makes sense that they pushed to make him captain after his father died. He'd been their leader in one way or another for years.”
Daisy couldn't pull her eyes away from Keith, now listening intently to another co-worker, squeezing his arm and clapping him on the shoulder. “His dad was captain?”
“No, his dad was Chief. Jerry was the captain, but when he died... Has he not told you any of this?”
“Well, no. I knew his father had died, obviously, but it seemed like something he didn’t want to talk about. I knew he'd tell me in his own time.” Daisy said simply, “I didn't want to push him into anything that would be uncomfortable.”
Emily gave her an evaluating look and nodded to herself. “I see what it is.”
“I beg your pardon?”
She patted Daisy's hand. “What it is about you. Come on, let's put our names on the singer's list.”
“Oh, nonono,” she begged, helpless against this tiny whirlwind of determination. She's worse than Bea!
“Come on, Daisy! I'm a terrible singer, you'll see. But it's so much fun! Also, it gets Emmet excited,” she waggled her eyebrows suggestively, bursting into laughter. “And I've heard that you sing, too, so this will be great.”
Daisy pulled back on her hand, trying to get her to stop. “Emily. Emily. Wait, how did you know that I sing?”
“Please, firemen are the biggest gossips around. They sit around in a big room for hours at a time waiting to get a call, what else are they going to do?”
“Moisturize? Read? Pilates?”
She wrote their names on the list and bumped her hip into Daisy's. “Trust me. Now go back to the bar, because someone looks like they're lonely without you.”
Daisy turned back to the bar, and sure enough, Keith was standing there holding two beers, scanning the crowd for her with a mild look of worry. She caught his attention with a chest-high wave, and his face relaxed into a relieved smile. Daisy slipped in next to him and whispered in his ear, “Worried I'd leave?”
“Mm. Hey, wait a minute.” Keith turned to give her his full attention. “Are you going to sing tonight?”
She hadn't felt this nervous about a performance since high school. “Maybe? It wasn't my idea.”
He nudged her with his knee. “I'm dying to hear you sing. I'll sing anything you want, your pick, if that helps.”
“Anything, huh?” Daisy narrowed her eyes. “Because I could make this really fun.”
“You already are,” Keith replied, pulling her into a side hug and pressing a small kiss to her cheek.
I guess I'm going to have to get used to all of this public affection if I'm going to be dating... Oh. Dang.
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Post by HburgEagle44 on Jun 18, 2014 21:44:03 GMT -5
I love Emily.... Haha
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Post by tonilous on Jun 20, 2014 2:48:50 GMT -5
As I have previously mentioned in my other stories, I will not be updating until Thursday or Friday of next week because I will be out camping from Sunday to either Wednesday or Thursday, I believe. And I still have to pack. Woops.
So I present you with a rather bittersweet update until then! I will "see" you next week!
Happy reading!
As Keith was pulled off into various conversations as the evening progressed, Daisy decided it was time for her to make a concerted effort to meet the people that were such an important part of Keith’s life. She must have met three Johns and four Daves, and all of their wives or girlfriends appeared to be named Michelle or Renee. At least she had a fifty percent chance of getting their names right. She found Bea with Damian laughing over a set list they were daring each other to sing. Daisy was amused, because clearly Damian didn't understand that Bea would sing at the drop of a hat; it didn't matter what the song was.
Sometimes Keith was pulled away for a conversation, but he always made a point of keeping an eye out for Daisy, sending her apologetic looks if it was for more than a few minutes. Daisy didn't mind; she was slowly relaxing around everyone. They all seemed to know who she was to some degree. I guess they are a bunch of gossips.
One of the Renees – wearing an unfortunate pair of track pants and frosted tips in her harshly styled hairdo and sporting a thick Worcester accent – bemoaned the way her husband dressed off duty and asked if Daisy would give him some advice. Daisy asked who her husband was. She pointed out a man that couldn't be less than 6'2” and looked more like a door with a head and arms than a regular man, and he was dressed head to toe in biker gear.
“Hm, I don't know if I could convince him to wear a pair of espadrilles, Renee.”
She sighed and patted her arm absentmindedly. “You're probably right. He only likes those tighty whities, but I'm going to have to look up on the internets what those underpants are; I bet they're wicked sexy.”
Daisy almost sputtered her beer all over her shirt.
“Hi, Renee, how are the kids?”
“Hey, Keith! Oh, growing like weeds.” Renee patted Keith's arm and tipped him an exaggerated wink. “You two have fun; I need to try and get John drunk enough to try to wear some ep-sadrills in the boo-dware.” She gave them a lascivious look as she sashayed off to her husband.
“What? I...” Keith looked hopelessly confused.
Daisy couldn't help but double over from laughing. “I think she thinks espadrilles are some kind of underwear. I don't know, she just... wow.”
Keith cracked up. “That should make tomorrow's shift fun.” Keith jerked his head towards the back of the room. Daisy took his hand and followed him to a corner table, where Keith pushed two chairs close enough together so that he ended up pressing his entire side against hers. “I've been waiting to have you all to myself all night.”
Daisy took a deep breath to try and slow her racing heart. She buried her face in Keith's neck, feeling more comfortable with physicality in the dark, quiet corner. “I've missed you.”
He tipped her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “Have you?”
There was no denying how Daisy felt, she realized. All that was left was to make the decision to act on it. “Yes. So much.”
They sat together, feeling alone for all the noise and activity in the room, and just held space together, Daisy finally letting herself enjoy it without worry. “Keith...”
Keith traced his knuckles gently up and down her arm, his eyes questioning, filled with hope. It made Daisy heart race to see.
“Daisy! Come on, you're up!”
Emily. Oh, she wanted to strangle that adorable, wee little hellion discount-giver for all of the designers Daisy loved. She seemed to realize that she'd interrupted something and her face was all apology.
“It's just that you're next, and this song is almost over, and I'm going after you, and I wanted you to give me courage because I really can't sing,” she raced.
Daisy gave Keith's knee a squeeze, tried to swallow her nerves, and dropped a small kiss on his cheek. “My curtain call.”
Keith smiled softly at her. “I can't wait.”
Emily muttered an apology to Keith before she towed Daisy to the small platform that served as the stage. “Bea and Damian picked your song; Damian kind of insisted,” Emily said, making a small face.
I guess those two have hit it off.
Daisy glanced at the screen before stepping up on stage to see which song Damian had chosen for her. Oh. Damian had finished his song and passed the mic to Daisy.
“Knock 'em dead, bro.”
Daisy gave him a weak smile. Well, the song's quiet enough that maybe those bruisers won't be able to hear me over their argument about the merits of Dog the Bounty Hunter, or whatever.
The quiet guitar intro to The Beatles “Blackbird” spilled out of the speakers. Daisy closed her eyes and began to sing. “Blackbird singing in the dead of night....”
As soon as she was in her moment, when the music and her voice blended and carried her away, any worries that she had about the crowd and their reactions and any worries about building a relationship with Keith melted away.
“Take these broken wings and learn to fly.”
She let go of any thought of being technically proficient; she knew she was. She wasn't hampered by fears of rejection; the music accepted her. Everything was clear, everything happened exactly as it should when she was on stage. She opened her eyes and scanned the crowd, slightly shocked yet incredibly pleased to see that most of the crowd had quieted down and were listening to her as she sang.
“All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to to be free.”
She looked towards the far right to where Keith was saving their table. Keith was perfectly still, watching her. This was who Daisy was: her heart, her abilities, all of it wrapped in a beautiful, clear voice, hoping as always that people would just listen and let her share it with them. He was finally seeing that part of her; the intensity of his gaze led to a growing pink flush on Daisy's cheeks. She slowly scanned the audience to find Bea, who had her hands clasped to her chest, beaming at her.
“Blackbird fly, into the light of the dark black night.”
She finished the song's final refrain and gave the crowd a watery smile. A huge round of applause erupted, pleasing Daisy more than she would have expected. It was gratifying that these men, these tough guys, had given her a moment to show what she could do, and more than that, they had appreciated it. She stepped off stage, murmuring “thanks” to people as they patted her, squeezed her shoulder, told her how lovely she sounded. She finally made her way back to Ketih, not quite ready to meet his eyes, for some reason. She was just...nervous. Daisy never felt as exposed as when she was singing – everything she was went into her performance. She wasn’t sure how Keith would react to it, if everything Daisy was would still be what Keith was looking for in someone.
Keith stood, not taking his eyes off Daisy, and took her by the hand. “You should always be doing that. Singing.”
“Well, I'd like to,” Daisy exhaled, laughing a little from nerves.
“Daisy.” Keith drew her into his arms, leaning them against the wall. “You...”
She was stock still, not sure of what Keith was trying to say.
“You move me.”
Daisy held her breath. Three simple words, but they meant more to her than any other praise she'd received.
Keith leaned in and kissed her, his hand clutched at Daisy's side. Oh, forget it. Daisy cupped Keith's face and kissed him back, her own needs and longing filling her to the point where her chest ached.
“Please tell me you're not going to disappear,” Keith whispered.
Daisy thought about the other couples here tonight, how they faced the same challenges, the same fears, but still made a life for themselves. “I don't think I could, even if I wanted to.”
Keith brought their foreheads together, keeping his eyes closed. “Do you want to?”
“No.”
Keith held her close, rocking slightly back and forth. “I want... I want to go somewhere and have it just be the two of us. I don't mean to push you to do something you're not ready for; it's not about that. I just--” He sighed and held Daisy tighter. “I just want to be alone with you. Can we do that?”
Daisy rubbed their cheeks together softly, enjoying the sensation of Keith's freshly shaved cheek against hers. “Yes. My place is closer, but your place is, um, quieter.”
Keith took her hand and led her towards the front door, skirting conversations and questions and even people hollering genially after Keith, “Where ya going?”
They hit the street level and continued on the few blocks to Keith's home, not speaking but not feeling pressured to, either. After three streets, he ducked under a business's awning, pulling Daisy flush against him and kissing her.
Daisy, wondering if this was what it felt like to have an out of body experience, panted against Keith's neck, which seemed to spur Keith on to action. They walked swiftly, arm in arm to his home, through the entrance, and as Keith led them to the sofa, Daisy pulled on his hand to stop him, her face aflame but her look steady as she motioned towards the hallway with her head.
“Daisy, we don't have to do any--”
“I know.”
Keith grabbed her hand gently as they walked to his room. He gave her a gentle kiss on the top of her head as they sat on his bed in comfortable silence, no sense of awkwardness in the air. He laces his fingers with Daisy's.
“Are you-- Is this okay?”
“Very.” Keith pressed soft kisses to the inside of her wrist.“This all scares me, too, you know.”
“Does it?”
“You're... Daisy, you're larger than life. I don't know if I've gotten this point across to you yet, but I really don't do this sort of thing. You're the exception.”
Daisy closed her eyes and sighed. “But I don't know why.”
Keith laid on his back, pulling gently on Daisy's hand so she would drape herself across his chest. He kissed her hair, his hands trailing up and down her spine. Daisy closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat.
“You would be so easy to love,” She murmured. Keith's hand stilled. Daisy had a hot flash of panic spike through her, she didn't mean to say that out loud.
Keith rolled them over, holding himself up on one elbow, his eyes dark and fixed on Daisy's. “Same here.”
Daisy's heart seemed to be beating out of her chest; fortunately, Keith's hand was there to steady her, ground her. Keith lowered his head towards her, eyes open, soft lips parted, before planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I want you.”
Daisy looked down, face burning. She was completely lost to the overwhelming sensations of being with someone that wanted her back, in equal measure. "I want you, too."
“No,” Keith smoothed her hair over her ear, worry on his face as he watched his fingers’ movement. He turned slightly to look deeply into Daisy's eyes, his voice thrumming with intensity. “I don't mean just this. I want you.”
Daisy opened her eyes, finding Keith inches away in the semi-dark, his eyes sleepy. No barrier thrown up, no hint of him protecting himself from Daisy's refusal. Just open and honest. And Keith wanted her. Her.
She pulled back, laying her head back on the bed, as she forced herself to think and not be caught up in a haze. She drew a finger down Keith's chest, biting her lip as she took it all in. It could be so right between us, it could.
“I want you, too.” But. She couldn't bring herself to articulate her one big fear out loud, not just yet. It would mean more than she was ready to admit, even to herself.
Keith's eyes closed as he sighed and held her tight, murmuring unintelligible sweetness as he kissed her cheek. They held each other, Daisy a little overwhelmed by the enormity of emotions she was feeling, needy and daring and a little afraid of what could happen, happy to put the brakes on, if only for her to catch her breath.
Keith rolled to his back, pulling Daisy back on top of him, settling her full weight on his body. “To keep me from floating away,” he said, laughing slightly.
This is everything I've wanted. Almost. Daisy would be the first to admit that she was greedy. She wanted it all; she wanted to be a star, she wanted a Tony, she wanted success and admiration from her peers and she wanted so desperately to have someone by her side through it all, through all the years. She shifted to her side, running her fingertips through the small patch of hair on Keith's exposed chest.
“I know it's not easy,” Keith said quietly, “to be like this.” He smiled at her. “It's not for me, at least.”
Daisy ran the flat of her hand over his chest, watching it rise and fall with Keith's steady breathing. “Me, neither. But...I love being with you, being here.” He held her tightly; Daisy was content to let him.
It felt safe with him here, calm, even though her heart was beating like a trip-hammer. She was beginning to understand that those went together. Keith was solid, steady, seemingly sure about how he felt, and he acted on it. It had never been easy for Daisy to decide to do something. She was reserved; since her youth she was fearful and hyper-aware of how people would react to her if she acted on her impulses.
But with Keith, she realized it was okay to let go of her reservations. If Daisy could let go of her fears, or learn how to compartmentalize them, she could maybe love Keith without regrets. If.
“I have...concerns,” Daisy said. “I feel like there's still so much I just don't know. That.... It scares me.”
She was grateful that her face was tucked into Keith's neck, breathing in his after-shave. She knew that if she looked into those green eyes, she'd be lost to any rational thought.
“Me, too,” Keith whispered as he combed his fingertips through the hair over her ear. Daisy sighed and tilted her head, wanting more contact, more Keith.
“I want to-- I want you to know me, though.” Keith's voice was no more than an exhale. “I need you to know me...and still want me.”
Daisy went still, taking a moment to look up at Keith's face. Keith's eyes were closed, eyes screwed shut, in fact. Daisy's breath grew shallow with dread.
“My dad--” Keith paused for a moment; Daisy could feel his heartbeat speeding up under her hand. She kept her hand pressed against Keith, holding them both steady but feeling like something wonderful might be slipping away.
“I'd come out of the academy with a few years under my belt already, so they made me a Lieutenant. My dad being the Chief, and all. I told you how he wasn't, um, the easiest person to be with?”
Daisy's hand flexed on his chest, knowing that this wasn't easy for him. It wasn’t easy for her, either, but this wasn’t about her. She could tell her needed to say this, to finally put it out there.
“It's a big part of why I followed him into this, instead of...anything else. It's a tradition in his family, his dad was a fireman, too. He was...tough, my grandpa. On my dad, on me, on my mother. He was a lot harder on me than the other guys at the station, whether to make a point that he didn't play favorites, or because he just didn't like me. Probably both. We'd get a call and he'd make a big deal of correcting anything I did, pointing out to everyone how they could do it better than I had, that sort of thing.
I just...I kept trying, you know? Trying to make sure he had no reason to ha-- to not approve of me. Finally, I got to a point where I just snapped. We got a call right about then, and it was a big one, the whole station emptied out, it was pretty chaotic at the scene. He--”
Keith let out a long exhale. Daisy sat up, smoothed Keith's hair back, just being there for him as she waited, trying to be supportive. He closed his eyes, letting her pet his hair for a moment.
“He yelled out for me to follow him up the back staircase so he 'could keep an eye on me' so I didn't 'screw things up again.' One of the things he'd always say to me was that if I wasn't perfect, if I didn't do things just right, I'd have someone's life on my hands.”
Daisy kissed Keith's lips when he paused again, whispering, “He wasn't fair.”
After a moment, Keith seemed to gather his courage to continue. “It was me, my father, and Jerry. He was the captain, Jerry. The fire was in the walls, and we had to get up high to make a place for it to get out-- that keeps it from spreading outward. I hauled the ram up five flights of stairs, he had me break open the roof access so we could cut down through it. I saw that the fire was already eating though the roof, but when I tried to call out to him, tried to get him to stop, he, um--” Keith closed his eyes, breathing through his nose for a moment. “He called me some things, names he'd never called me before. And I stopped. And I watched him plummet through the weakened roof into the fire.”
“Oh...Keith, I--”
“I ran back down the stairs to the floor below, and got the door open. I did just like I was supposed to, curl up and away from the door so you don't get a big fireball to the face. The problem with opening doors, though, is that it brings more oxygen in. That makes the fire more intense. I could see him; he was just a few yards away, and I could see he'd hurt his leg, maybe broken it. I...Daisy, I just stood there. I could still hear those words, those names ringing in my ear. And I hated him for it.”
Keith threw his arm over his face, pressing it against his eyes. Daisy didn't move. She almost didn't know if she could. She knew there was nothing that would make her leave Keith's side right now, as much as she knew she could never understand what it would feel like to be hated by your father. Or...hate her dad? It wasn't possible.
“I heard something else go, and that's when I saw Jerry fall through. The fire investigators later said that he'd been trapped on a burning beam up top, that if I hadn't exited the roof when I did, I would have gone, too.”
Daisy sat up, hand pressed to her mouth and clutched one of Keith's hands.
“Jerry fell right in front of me, he'd taken a heat blast and was pretty weak. I grabbed him, threw him over my shoulder, and ran him downstairs. I left my father.”
Daisy felt the tears running down her cheeks, but didn't let go of Keith's hands to wipe them away. “But...you couldn't carry both, and one of them was right there. That's not your fault, Keith.” Daisy's voice was barely a whisper.
“I shouldn't have waited. I should have run in there. I shouldn't have left--”
She pulled Keith up to sitting and took him in her arms. “You didn't make it happen. If you'd run in there, the other man would have fallen on you, you would have died, too.”
“That's what the others said when I tried to go back up there for him.”
“You tried to go back in?” Daisy asked, horrified at the thought of what the heat, the danger, the fear Keith must have faced.
“Well...of course. And then I brought Jerry down all those flights of stairs, hearing the fire over our heads--” It was as if he'd not heard anything Daisy had said and was recounting the story by rote. “--and when I laid him on the street in front of the paramedics, everyone kept asking me 'Where's Chief?'
“I told them I was going to go back and get him. Emmet and Tony wouldn't let me.” Keith's voice sounded strange, like he was remembering something that happened to someone else as he talked. ”Tony shoved me to the street, threatened me. That's when the windows on the top floor blew out.”
“Oh my god, Keith, if you'd gone back in...surely you know you would have been killed?” Daisy's voice was barely a whisper; she could hardly bring herself to say those last words.
Keith shook in her arms, his voice sounding strangled as he said, “But I just don't know. I don't know that.”
Daisy didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything; she just held him, tried to give him the support he should have had all along.
Keith pulled back, his head hanging. “I feel like I killed-”
Her hands squeezed his shoulder, trying to get through to him. “The fire killed him, Keith. I don't know how you can think anything but that. You didn't. Keith, you ran to him to help him, it's not like you walked away and did nothing. You tried to go back. Don't you see that?”
It was like Keith had checked out; he just felt empty to Daisy, spent. “They told me he was gone, that I couldn't have helped, but...”
Daisy grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. “Wasn't he?”
A small moment of recognition seemed to flicker and then fade in his eyes.
“What does your instinct tell you? If that had just been anyone, what would you have done? If it wasn't your father, just someone? And you had two people in that situation?”
Keith blinked for a moment. “Get the person closest; send help for the other if it's possible.”
Daisy drew her fingers down his cheek. “Was it?”
So much remorse, so much sadness in Keith's eyes, he seemed like he was drowning in it. “No.” Daisy could barely hear the response. They sat together, Daisy holding Keith, waiting for him to speak when he was ready, her heart aching for him.
“Everyone treated me like I was a hero, when I hadn't been able to make them see that I needed to go ba-- And then Jerry didn't make it, too much smoke inhalation plus the burns.... It was a mercy, really. A couple of other guys got sick, but those were the only two that died, my father and Jerry.”
“It was Bill that decided I should be made captain after he was made Chief. He said it was something my dad had always wanted for me, that he'd be proud of how I handled myself that night.” Keith looked at Daisy, then, really looked into her. Daisy could see so many years of anger and hurt in his eyes. “Bill is a good guy. He knew what my dad had thought about me. Knew how my dad hadn't really...been kind to me. I've been trying to live up to Bill's expectations ever since. I don't know what I'd do if I let him down, too.”
“Keith, you didn't let anyone down. You did everything you could. It sounds like you did everything you could. Would Emmet have stopped you if he thought you could have helped?”
Keith pulled away, elbows on his knees and hands buried in his hair. “He--. No.”
Daisy sat on the edge of the bed feeling a million miles away from whatever place of grief Keith was stuck in. It explained a lot, his heavy, self-imposed work load, his no-nonsense demeanor around Bill. She was sure that somewhere there was something good to be said about the elder Cahill, but for now she wanted nothing more than to strangle him for causing so much self-hatred in his son. Especially when it was clear to everyone that knew Keith that he was a good person, a good man.
Daisy kicked her shoes off and moved back to the headboard. “Keith.”
Nothing, just his continued tugging on his hair.
Daisy reached out, laying her hand on Keith's broad back. “Keith.” She extricated one of his hands from his hair and tugged him towards the pillows. She sighed with relief when Keith let her, and again when he propped himself up on the pillows, tucking Keith's body next to hers, wanting nothing but to hold him.
After a moment, Keith spoke, his voice muffled by the front of Daisy's shirt. “I'm sorry. Daisy, I didn't mean to...fall apart like that.”
Daisy stroked her fingers through Keith's hair, down his back and shoulder and back again, over and over, wishing she could push away all of the ugly, lonely feelings Keith had been trained to believe about himself. “Don't say that. Don't tell me you're sorry.”
Tightening his arms around her waist, Keith shuddered briefly. Daisy lost track of time sitting there, holding him. After a while, she felt Keith's body relax. She pulled away and found that Keith had fallen asleep, the worry lines in his face that deepened as he told Daisy his story were beginning to fade. Daisy tried to pull away, but Keith's arms tightened again. He muttered, “Just a little more,” and nestled deeper into her arms.
Daisy smiled, dropped a kiss onto his hair, humming when she heard the pleased noise from Keith. She stayed there holding him for a while longer, replaying Keith's story in her head. She was shocked again by the guilt and doubt that Keith kept bottled up inside, completely sure that it was totally unfounded. She knew, she knew that he didn't deserve to think that about himself.
Keith's breathing eventually leveled off; he was totally out. Daisy slipped his shoes off and found a throw blanket, covering him up with it. She kissed his temple softly in order to keep from waking him, and whispered, “It wasn't your fault.”
Keith curled up on his side, clutching a pillow in his arms. Daisy flashed briefly on slipping in with him, letting him hold her. Instead, she found a piece of paper and a pencil in the front room, drew a heart on it, and laid it on the other side of the bed and quietly slipped out. The entire walk back home she wondered if she shouldn't have just stayed.
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Post by HburgEagle44 on Jun 20, 2014 3:05:57 GMT -5
Yes, bittersweet. But beautiful.
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Post by barbt on Jun 20, 2014 8:34:10 GMT -5
Poor Keith, living with all that bottled up inside him. And I really hope he doesn't take her leaving the wrong way.
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