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fellowshippers2007-02-16 04:16 pm
v-angelique.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2007-02-16 04:16 pm
Entry tags:
- au,
- craig/david,
- r
Fic: Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes (7/12)
Title: Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes (7/12)
Author: Viktoria Angelique (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
v_angelique)
Pairing: DW/CP
Rating: series up to R; PG this part
Disclaimer: This is very, very untrue, and AU in fact, so even more untrue! Also, I'm borrowing real people including Dave's wife and daughter, but only the names are real, the rest--completely fictional.
Warning: Slight angst.
Chapter Summary: Dave gets a divorce and frets, Craig makes things better.
A/N: Damn. Bloody short again. If it's any consolation though, the halfway point in terms of pages falls in the middle of the next chapter, which means that chapters eight through twelve are considerably longer.
A/N2: I figured out what was wrong with the "previous chapters" link. Fixed, now!
Previous Chapters
Surprisingly enough, in the end, it was Kate who filed for a separation. A week before Eliza Jane’s third birthday, Dave confessed to a priest that he was considering divorcing his wife. As this went against the sacraments of the Catholic Church, the young priest thought he was doing the couple a favour by informing Kate of her husband’s intentions. A few days later, Kate presented Dave with some papers to sign. He felt surprisingly free.
On Eliza Jane’s birthday, it becoming painfully clear what was happening. When Dave showed up for the party, Kate’s brothers took it upon themselves to inform him that he was not invited. The black eye he got for hurting their baby sister was carefully tended to by Craig in his master bathroom while Craig laughingly told stories of the times he had been beat up in primary school for his sexuality.
Before too long, a few more things became clear. Dave was no longer welcome in the church. Not only had he committed the sin in his heart of considering a divorce (no matter who actually carried out the deed) but he was known to be staying with a homosexual in the interim. Clearly, Kate had a valid reason for her actions. In addition, some communication with Kate’s lawyer made it clear that she was taking Dave out to dry for pretty much all he was worth. The house, the savings, the car, it would all be hers. Craig offered to find him a good lawyer, but none of that was important to him. What was important was his daughter. He planned to fight for visitation rights, but in the meantime, he concentrated on the fact that he had been promptly fired by Kate’s uncle and needed to get established as a graphic artist a little quicker than originally planned.
After the third time Dave offered Craig some rent, he finally told Dave a story.
“I know this is probably surprising to you, because I don’t live that way at all, but, well, I’m pretty rich. Or rather, filthy rich. Disgustingly rich. I don’t even want to give you numbers because they make me slightly ill sometimes.”
“But, your writing, and your plays…”
“I enjoy them. I love to act, and I love to write. I always have. But that doesn’t change the fact that my parents are dead, and that I have an inheritance to make Solomon blush.”
“Oh. You never told me your parents died.”
“Yeah, I… don’t like to talk about it.”
“Oh.” Dave took a look at Craig’s expression and instinctively reached a hand out to brush his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
Craig looked up and smiled. “Don’t worry about the money, Daisy. You get your daughter back. And stay here as long as you like.”
“I’m not in the way?”
“You’re so far from out of the way you’re in the next room. Come on, then. Let’s order a pizza and get really, really drunk.”
Dave grinned. “Sounds perfect.”
After a few weeks, Dave and Craig got into something of a routine. For the first time in years, Dave routinely slept till eleven in the morning. When he got up, Craig would usually be in the shower. Dave would pour himself a bowl of the chocolate cereal Craig always on hand that had been his favourite as a kid, and then he would sit down to work. He had a few freelance gigs designing layouts for company websites, and so he would spend some of the afternoon working and the rest trying to advertise his services to more potential clients.
During the day, Craig would also be working, writing usually, or occasionally memorizing lines, and they would often sit together on the couch, though not talking, their legs stretched out towards the centre and their computers in their laps. When Dave finished his work for the day, he would fix dinner for the two of them, always getting a lot of praise from Craig, who loved his cooking. After dinner, Craig would head off to rehearsals, and Dave would go over whatever his lawyer had most recently emailed him about the impending custody case. By the time Craig got back around ten or eleven, Dave would usually be asleep on the couch with the History channel on the telly. Craig would cover him in Craig’s mother’s afghan, sit on the couch with a beer, and finish whatever the programme was, and then wake Dave up to shower and sleep.
One Saturday, almost a month after the separation, Dave was sitting in the kitchen with a stack of notes and papers, preparing to appear in court on Monday. Craig sat across from him, coffee in hand, looking over whatever Dave didn’t have in hand at the moment and frowning.
“So they’re pretty much planning to go all out with the character attack?”
“Pretty much,” Dave agreed, sighing. “They might not do too well with it in this district, but if they can get some sympathetic moms and dads on the jury, I’m screwed.”
“I don’t see why. You’re a good father. Can’t you prove that?”
“Not really. The only people who’ve ever seen me as a father are you and Kate. I don’t exactly have a ton of friends, Craig.”
“So let me testify!”
“Um… that might not be a very good idea.”
“Why?”
“Kate’s going for the unfit parent gay angle thing,” Dave mumbled.
“What? But you’re not gay! I’m gay, what does that have to do with…”
“We can’t prove that we’re not together, Craig.”
“But we’re… not! I mean, come on….”
“No, but we can’t prove it. Think about it, Craig. I’ve been living with you for weeks, alone. You’re openly gay. If it comes down to it, Kate can testify that I’ve never been able to have sex with her… well, successfully, for any length of time. It’s a pretty good argument, you have to admit.”
“I guess. But I mean, you’re not.”
“I know that, and you know that. The jury doesn’t know that.”
“Well, so what if you are? Even if the jury thinks you’re gay, that doesn’t mean you’re an unfit parent!”
“I hope you’re right, but… I just don’t know that they’ll buy that. I’m scared, Craig.”
“Well, how about… I mean, you could move out, you know, until this all blows over. You could get a hotel, I’ll pay for it…”
“No. Please Craig, don’t… I can’t handle that. I can’t… I know I haven’t…. this is hard, Craig. It’s really hard. I can’t go through this without a friend,” Dave admitted. His expression was so hurt that Craig immediately was on the other side of the table, pulling him into a tight hug.
“Hey, Daisy, it’s okay honey… don’t fret… we’ll get your girl back, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?”
“Till the day I die,” Craig promised with a smile. And what was scary was that he meant it.
Author: Viktoria Angelique (
v_angelique)Pairing: DW/CP
Rating: series up to R; PG this part
Disclaimer: This is very, very untrue, and AU in fact, so even more untrue! Also, I'm borrowing real people including Dave's wife and daughter, but only the names are real, the rest--completely fictional.
Warning: Slight angst.
Chapter Summary: Dave gets a divorce and frets, Craig makes things better.
A/N: Damn. Bloody short again. If it's any consolation though, the halfway point in terms of pages falls in the middle of the next chapter, which means that chapters eight through twelve are considerably longer.
A/N2: I figured out what was wrong with the "previous chapters" link. Fixed, now!
Previous Chapters
Surprisingly enough, in the end, it was Kate who filed for a separation. A week before Eliza Jane’s third birthday, Dave confessed to a priest that he was considering divorcing his wife. As this went against the sacraments of the Catholic Church, the young priest thought he was doing the couple a favour by informing Kate of her husband’s intentions. A few days later, Kate presented Dave with some papers to sign. He felt surprisingly free.
On Eliza Jane’s birthday, it becoming painfully clear what was happening. When Dave showed up for the party, Kate’s brothers took it upon themselves to inform him that he was not invited. The black eye he got for hurting their baby sister was carefully tended to by Craig in his master bathroom while Craig laughingly told stories of the times he had been beat up in primary school for his sexuality.
Before too long, a few more things became clear. Dave was no longer welcome in the church. Not only had he committed the sin in his heart of considering a divorce (no matter who actually carried out the deed) but he was known to be staying with a homosexual in the interim. Clearly, Kate had a valid reason for her actions. In addition, some communication with Kate’s lawyer made it clear that she was taking Dave out to dry for pretty much all he was worth. The house, the savings, the car, it would all be hers. Craig offered to find him a good lawyer, but none of that was important to him. What was important was his daughter. He planned to fight for visitation rights, but in the meantime, he concentrated on the fact that he had been promptly fired by Kate’s uncle and needed to get established as a graphic artist a little quicker than originally planned.
After the third time Dave offered Craig some rent, he finally told Dave a story.
“I know this is probably surprising to you, because I don’t live that way at all, but, well, I’m pretty rich. Or rather, filthy rich. Disgustingly rich. I don’t even want to give you numbers because they make me slightly ill sometimes.”
“But, your writing, and your plays…”
“I enjoy them. I love to act, and I love to write. I always have. But that doesn’t change the fact that my parents are dead, and that I have an inheritance to make Solomon blush.”
“Oh. You never told me your parents died.”
“Yeah, I… don’t like to talk about it.”
“Oh.” Dave took a look at Craig’s expression and instinctively reached a hand out to brush his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
Craig looked up and smiled. “Don’t worry about the money, Daisy. You get your daughter back. And stay here as long as you like.”
“I’m not in the way?”
“You’re so far from out of the way you’re in the next room. Come on, then. Let’s order a pizza and get really, really drunk.”
Dave grinned. “Sounds perfect.”
After a few weeks, Dave and Craig got into something of a routine. For the first time in years, Dave routinely slept till eleven in the morning. When he got up, Craig would usually be in the shower. Dave would pour himself a bowl of the chocolate cereal Craig always on hand that had been his favourite as a kid, and then he would sit down to work. He had a few freelance gigs designing layouts for company websites, and so he would spend some of the afternoon working and the rest trying to advertise his services to more potential clients.
During the day, Craig would also be working, writing usually, or occasionally memorizing lines, and they would often sit together on the couch, though not talking, their legs stretched out towards the centre and their computers in their laps. When Dave finished his work for the day, he would fix dinner for the two of them, always getting a lot of praise from Craig, who loved his cooking. After dinner, Craig would head off to rehearsals, and Dave would go over whatever his lawyer had most recently emailed him about the impending custody case. By the time Craig got back around ten or eleven, Dave would usually be asleep on the couch with the History channel on the telly. Craig would cover him in Craig’s mother’s afghan, sit on the couch with a beer, and finish whatever the programme was, and then wake Dave up to shower and sleep.
One Saturday, almost a month after the separation, Dave was sitting in the kitchen with a stack of notes and papers, preparing to appear in court on Monday. Craig sat across from him, coffee in hand, looking over whatever Dave didn’t have in hand at the moment and frowning.
“So they’re pretty much planning to go all out with the character attack?”
“Pretty much,” Dave agreed, sighing. “They might not do too well with it in this district, but if they can get some sympathetic moms and dads on the jury, I’m screwed.”
“I don’t see why. You’re a good father. Can’t you prove that?”
“Not really. The only people who’ve ever seen me as a father are you and Kate. I don’t exactly have a ton of friends, Craig.”
“So let me testify!”
“Um… that might not be a very good idea.”
“Why?”
“Kate’s going for the unfit parent gay angle thing,” Dave mumbled.
“What? But you’re not gay! I’m gay, what does that have to do with…”
“We can’t prove that we’re not together, Craig.”
“But we’re… not! I mean, come on….”
“No, but we can’t prove it. Think about it, Craig. I’ve been living with you for weeks, alone. You’re openly gay. If it comes down to it, Kate can testify that I’ve never been able to have sex with her… well, successfully, for any length of time. It’s a pretty good argument, you have to admit.”
“I guess. But I mean, you’re not.”
“I know that, and you know that. The jury doesn’t know that.”
“Well, so what if you are? Even if the jury thinks you’re gay, that doesn’t mean you’re an unfit parent!”
“I hope you’re right, but… I just don’t know that they’ll buy that. I’m scared, Craig.”
“Well, how about… I mean, you could move out, you know, until this all blows over. You could get a hotel, I’ll pay for it…”
“No. Please Craig, don’t… I can’t handle that. I can’t… I know I haven’t…. this is hard, Craig. It’s really hard. I can’t go through this without a friend,” Dave admitted. His expression was so hurt that Craig immediately was on the other side of the table, pulling him into a tight hug.
“Hey, Daisy, it’s okay honey… don’t fret… we’ll get your girl back, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?”
“Till the day I die,” Craig promised with a smile. And what was scary was that he meant it.
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At least the story isn't *too* long. Hehe.
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For that matter, I've known Catholics who've divorced and still gone to mass. It depends on your church, and they might not be allowed to take communion, but it's not an automatic boot-out unless your parish priest is a real hard case. In some parishes you're just considered to be still married since the Church doesn't recognize the divorce; it can get more tangled if you try to re-marry but I don't think that's going to be an issue with Craig. [wry smile] I think Craig is much better off without that bunch; he can find some other parish where they're a bit more humane about such things, especially since his wife divorced him, not the other way around. [sigh]
Craig's definitely a sweetheart for being so supportive. I'm keeping a set of virtual fingers crossed for David getting joint custody of his daughter, or at least really good visitation rights. :/
Angie
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Angie
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I liked the chapter, by the way. I'm just quite protective of sweeties like David.
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Craig is protective, too. You shall see :-D