"Did I Tell You? Moon Beams are Heavy…"
Written by S.R.C.
Note: This is a challenge response that was posted on the Spinelli_GH community over on good ole' El-Jay. Rules are basically, open itunes library, hit shuffle and write a ficlet based on the first song that pops up. Uh, my first song that popped up was "Waiting for my Man" by the Velvet Underground. Great, epic song, but I wasn't comfortable with my abilities as a writer making Spinelli wait in a bad part of town with $26 dollars in his hand, while waiting for his drug dealer. So, I cheated and decided that I would write on the second song that came up (and I'm so happy I did).
Note: I really don't own anything that you recognize. Please read and review; Con-crit encouraged; douchy remarks are not. *wink*
*
The vibrations emitted from the shiny, silver phone hit the dark mahogany wood of the desk in three quick, punctual pulses jarring the young man out from intent gaze that was focused on a bright screen of a beat up, yet well loved laptop, who's wear was exponentially greater then its age. He typed a final thought, as the phone vibrated another quick trio of pulses, causing the device to travel in the direction of a half empty bottle of orange soda that was sitting at a safe distance away from the computer.
On the third group of vibrations, the phone pulsated against the glass, creating gentle tinging in the air. Spinelli reached with his left hand to grab the offending devise, glancing at the screen only to be greeted with a message of a blocked number. He warily flipped open the phone and listened for any tells of clicking in the background before stuttering out a greeting.
"Huh-hello?" He reach up and ran a hand through his messy hair, giving it a gentle reassuring tug.
"Spinelli! Why didn't you answer right away! " Her pitch was high, he could practically see her furrowed brow and sparkly blue eyes. The shape of her neck, where the light blonde hair brushed against…
"SPINELLI!" She screeched and he jerked out from his daydream and the phone away from his ear before cringing inwardly.
"Maximista, is your person incapacitated? Injured? Did you call the medical ones?" His mind tunneled down to fires, wrecked cars, evil gun-men with scalpels, and Maxie's unmoving body crumbled like a ragdoll on the those stone steps.
"Spinelli, I need you… now, would be good." She was nearly hyperventilating now, and he heard the sounds of crying in the background as something glass or ceramic shattered. "Oh, shoot! Spinelli, please, hurry. I'm at the corner of Maple and Sussex. I'll see you before you get to me."
"Alright I'm on my way now, just stay on the phone with the Jackal and tell me why the fair Maxie is calling from another phone other then her trusted non-anti-oxidized PDA?" He shuffled around the desk, through his laptop into the army green messenger bag.
"My Blackberry, you mean? I don't get service here, can you believe that? This is upstate New York, not Alaska! I mean, really, shouldn't there be a cell tower on every block now?"
He scribbled a note to Jason telling his landlord where he was, grabbed his keys and ran out the door and down the stairwell, foregoing the elevators all together.
"Oh! I can fix that for you! I just need to scramble the frequencies in the-"
"Not the main problem here, Spinell! I need you to focus. Where are you now? How long do you think it will take you to get here?"
He heard more commotion in the background… was that water running? "I have arrived at the garage. Stone Cold has procured the Pathfinder, so I'll take the Volvo. It has GPS, anyways."
"Oh good, you're taking a car instead of your stupid bike… Wait." The blonde girl let out a chuckle, "Jason has a Volvo? Oh man. If I survive tonight, I'm never letting him live that one down. Stone Cold drives a Volvo."
He fished around for the spare set of keys at the bottom of his bag, and unlocked the door to the black, four-door sedan. "I believe he acquired it in case he ever… uh, had the baby for an extended period of time. It's a perfectly safe vehicle, you know. Not very fuel efficient, though. Maybe I could convince him to get a Prius. They're good for the environment, plus there really quite so you can sneak up on anyone in a non-descript vehicle."
"That's great, Spinelli. Ok, I have to go. You had better be here in ten minutes or, or, or ... we'll be fighting." And Maxie disconnected from the line right as Spinelli pulled out into the cold, clear night.
*
Within ten minutes or so he rounded the intersection of Maple and Sussex. He was shocked. Instead of chaos and fire and turmoil, there were rows of picturesque New England style houses complete with expansive yards and picket fences. He put the car into park on the corner, off to the side of the street that Maxie had specified. Before he had opened his door, he spied the blonde girl race out of the house and down the porch of a house that was facing the intersection.
He grabbed his bag and looped it around his shoulders before he went to meet his friend at the edge of the property.
Without thinking he reached out and pulled her into a tight hug, "The Jackal was so worried", he squeezed harder and took a deep inhale of her vanilla scented hair.
He released her and held her at arms length letting his eyes comb over her slender form.
"What are you doing, I'm fine. I just need help with Emma, she won't stop crying and-".
Spinelli dropped his arms and stared at her before cutting her off, "Maxie! I broke four traffic laws getting here, because I thought this was an emergency and you were hurt!" He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "I was driving 8 miles over the speed limit!"
"Spinelli, this is an emergency. And really, just 8 miles over? Is that all I'm worth to you? I could have been dying. And I don't want to hear your moose theory!" She led him up the shrub-lined path to the porch, up the steps and through the red, freshly painted door. As the door swung open she muttered, "Welcome to hell."
It wasn't hell, per say, but it was in slight disarray. There were toys strewn everywhere, baby blankets in Mount Everest sized piles, a broom and a vacuum were precariously balanced in one corner of the room and something smelled like it was burning. There was a pile of diapers, rolled up and presumably dirty, yet no diaper smell. And to top it off, a soundtrack of circus themed nursery rhymes was being played on loop through the sound system of the living room.
He knew immediately where he was and had to comment, "Dr. Scorpio would never let her house get like this."
Maxie shot him a glare, but had nothing to say.
"So, where is baby Emma?" he looked around once more, thinking perhaps he had overlook the bassinet amidst the chaos. "Sounds like she is sleeping quietly, so mission accomplished, right? The Jackal can certainly help you clean, but I-"
Maxie averted her eyes to the broken glass in the corner of the room and reached over to grab the baby monitor from the fireplace mantle. She flipped a switch and tinny wails came from the radio device. "I turned it off!" she exclaimed with a sad proclamation. "How horrible am I? I just couldn't do listen to her anymore! I was trying to get her settled and make dinner and clean up the vase-thing I broke. I'm not a good multi-tasker, you know this Spinelli!"
She flopped on the couch and rested her face in her hands before flipping off the switch and the room was once again silent. "I just don't know what she wants… she was fed, bathed, I read her nearly every book she had, we tested out every blanket and toy! I changed her diaper like 12 times just in case she was a little bit wet. Which she wasn't, by the way, so I just wasted 12 diapers, which is probably awful for the environment, so not only am I a horrible cousin, I'm also bad for nature. Tell me, Spinelli, what do I do?"
"Maximista, you are the most capable person I know, and a great balancer of multiple things… you work for the Fashionista herself, Kate Howard, so how could you not be?" He looked around the room, and sniffed the air, "First pressing matter to attend too, did you shut off the oven?"
"Frick!" Maxie's eyes went wide as she rocketed off the beige sofa and through the doorway to what Spinelli assumed was the kitchen. She returned a minute later, pot-holder still affixed to her hand, "well I hope you're not hungry."
Spinelli gave her a smile of encouragement, "Lead the way, to Fair fussy Emma".
Maxi gave a snort of amusement and headed for the stairs, the crying baby becoming more audible with every step.
"Did you taker her temperature? Is she hydrated?"
"Yeah, 98.9 and she took her bottle ok. I don't know what else to do! I was gonna call Johnny instead of you, cause he walked me through a crying Emma before, but then I realized he didn't touch the baby once, the only thing he did was threaten a doctor. But, let's be honest hear, I can threaten a doctor on my own. I need my Spinelli to tell me what to do. Tell me what else to do?" she pleaded.
They walked into the yellow painted room that had a cherry wood crib and matching changing table and a rocking chair pushed in the corner. Over by the window there was an old wooden kitchen chair that had a potted house plant resting on the seat. The room was still pretty bare.
Spinelli walked over to the crib and gently reached in to pick up the wailing Emma. "Hey princess Emma, you're not giving Maximista an easy time of it, are you?" He cooed and smiled at the sniffling baby.
"She's still crying, Spin! What's the matter?" Still panicked.
Spinelli didn't look up from Emma's wriggling form, still rocking her back and forth and answered her question still in his sing-song baby voice, "She's probably just being fussy, right Em? She can sense the inexperience and wants to scare you, yeah you do Enchanting Emma." He broke the voice and looked over at the blonde girl, "Sometime baby's just cry… to cry. Nothing really is wrong, but nothing's right either." He looked back down at Emma whose cries seemed to be lessening, "I know exactly how you feel, Emma". He kept rocking her back and forth and walked around the room in slow paces, "Have you called the Medical mother? Dr. Drake?"
"I can't do that! They haven't had a night away from the baby since the fire. They only went to dinner! They deserve to have a few hours to themselves. All I had to do was put her to do was feed her, play dress-up, a little and then put her in her PJ's and then put her to bed."
Spin continued his pacing with the baby in his arms, "Hmm. Ok, someone should pick up downstairs, clean up the glass, while someone stays with the baby. Do you want-"
Maxie was already out the door in the hallway, "Thanks Spinelli, you're fantastic! If you need extra… whatever, they're in the room across the hallway, it's Patrick's office."
He continued chatting to the bundle in his arms, who occasionally let out a small wail, but was settling down in his arms. He heard Maxie cleaning up downstairs, sweeping up the glass, picking up the toys all the while her heels clicking pointedly on the hardwood floor. He started to hum nameless tunes, letting the pitches vibrate in his chest. This went on for about 25 minutes.
He switched holding the baby so that he face was resting on his shoulder as one hand gently patted her back. Emma was settled in now, an enraptured audience listening intently to Spinelli's songs.
"You like that? That was Bob Dylan. You like Bob Dylan? He's one of the Jackals favorites. Your parents should let you listen to rock and roll instead of that creepy carnival music. Sesame Street can teach you numbers, but Mr. Dylan can teach you… poetry. Hey! Maybe I can make you a mix-tape? I wrote a couple songs too, but only you can listen to them. I'm not sure anyone else would appreciate them." He pulled the child away from him to see if she was asleep, but her eyes were still bright and she stared intently at him with her dark eyes.
He replaced her in the same position, "Still not tired yet? That's ok, just glad you aren't crying anymore, you are too beautiful to cry, Enchanting Emma."
"Let's see, I started to write a song-slash-poem for baby Jake, when I first found out about him, but I don't think I'll ever really get to sing it to him, so… how about we make it your song? Let's see if I can remember it-"
He felt the vomit before he heard her spit up. His face contorted with mild distaste before he craned his neck and peered over Emma's head and past his shoulder. Streaked down the back of his computer evolution shirt was yellow-white baby vomit.
He turned the girl so she was back facing him, "Thanks, Em. I thought we were bonding."
He put the baby in her crib hoping she wouldn't start crying again and his prayers were answered. He quickly walked across the hall to the room Maxie has specified earlier. He peeled off his shirt and looked around for the supplies. He found a rag by a pile of other baby stuff and began to de-vomit the back of his favorite t-shirt. When it was about as good as it was going to get at the moment, he took the opportunity to look around the room.
Patrick's office, was more accurately, Patrick's playroom. Besides a desk with a computer, the room was filled with Nascar paraphernalia, model cars, old Archie comics, a TV with an X-Box 360 hooked up to it and more. What peaked his interest was the acoustic guitar hanging on the wall by the window. Spinelli walked closer and took a step back when he realized what he was looking at.
A 1974 Gibson Hummingbird.
His fingers itched to touch it, but he hesitated before picking it up. He figured it must have been Patrick's Dad's, but it was a Gibson Hummingbird, and this was a guitar that was meant to be played not left for display. He tentatively strummed the 6 strings and his heart melted. Even out of tune, the guitar sounded beautiful.
He practically (but carefully, of course, this is the Gibson Hummingbird) skipped into Emma's room, abandoning his shirt, "Look what I found? I'll play it for you, but you can't rat me out, ok?" Emma let out a string of baby noises in response.
He placed the plant on the changing table and took a seat on the kitchen chair by the window, so as to have the guitar lit by the moon and the streetlight.
He quickly tuned the guitar to its standard and played a few scales to warm up.
He cleared is throat before speaking to the little girl, "H'ok, 'Formally Jake's song, Now Emma's song".
"One day, the moon got tired of being up in the sky. He wandered down through the starlight and landed at the ocean side. And he smiled while he jumped in the water and laughed about and danced in the sand.
He put on his swim trunks and snorkels. And guess what? Mr. moon swam.
Did I tell you? Moon-beams are heavy and therefore Mr. Moon sank. He fell down through the seawalls of seaweed and landed at the bottom of the tank. And he sat there with the starfish and jellyfish laughed at the sharks and whales. And they drank lots of miller lights and Heinekens and laughed about all of their tales.
Oh Mr. moon, the stars are shining for you in the night sky, please come home! Oh Mr. moon the sun is shining for you until it goes away and then it's dark and then it dark.
And then it's dark!"
Maxie had come up the stair about the time Spinelli had finished tuning the guitar. She had started to head into the room before noticing Spin playing scales on the guitar. She stayed in the hallway and peaked through doorframe, watching her best friend sing to the now quite Emma.
Through the first song she just listened to his amazing voice. The song was merely a few chords alternating from each other and he wasn't in deep concentration, he just looked happy, singing the goofy, whimsical lyrics to the child. It was disorienting, listening to Spinelli's smooth voice. She never would have guessed he was this gifted, this musical.
She sat down in the hallway and continued to watch him as he continued to play. More songs, mostly stuff he was covering. Once in a while he would break into a harder solo or strumming pattern and she would watch his body shift. He would start to hunch over the body of the guitar and turn his head to his left so he could watch his fingers dance over the fret board. His tongue would snake out past his mouth and lick his lips, or he would just worry the bottom lip with his straight, white teeth.
Maxie had a newfound appreciating for Spinelli's body. What she once only thought of as plain, pale and lanky, was now something kind of mysterious and sexy. He kind of glowed in that dark room and his shaggy hair hung in his face, as shadows played along his face, chest and arms. His arms were nice, not bulky, like she thought she liked. This was different. She could see him as a loner, guitarist-rockstar.
She could see part of his pale back and could count the ribs up one side of his torso. She watched the muscles in his neck pull and slide under his skin and followed the pulses down his abdomen down his thighs which were clad in form fitting denim. She could see the skin of his knee peak through a frayed hole located there and his right foot adorned in an old black converse was tapping out a rhythm to the song which he was strumming.
The whole image was visually appealing as Maxie was sat there stunned.
She was the first to admit it; she dug the muscles, the broad shoulders and tan skin. She wanted that designer clothes and 100 dollar haircut – guy. She thought she did. But this vision of Spinelli had her uncomfortable in her own skin. She had seen it before, of course, but from a distance, she thought his pale skin traced in blue veins was beautiful and his boney wrist were amazing as they bended and slid over the guitar. And his hands and fingers were magical and she wanted the to play her, just as the digits were playing the wooden instrument.
It was hot.
She was enraptured as her senses were filled with Spinelli; the vision of him, the music he was creating. She thought she could even smell the dial soap he used, as he didn't wear cologne.
She was watching him play, perform when she didn't hear Robin and Patrick come home. And she was watching him when she didn't hear them come up the steps to see what was wrong. And it wasn't until Robin spoke from behind her that she was pulled away from her friend.
"Is that Spinelli? That's pretty hot." Robin said quietly in her frank voice. Maxie turned and looked sharply at her cousin. "What? Guys who play guitar are hot."
Patrick, who was standing next to her glared.
"Don't worry, doctors are pretty sexy themselves" Maxie told him, patting him on the back and continuing to focus on Spinelli.
"So, why is Spinelli here?" Patrick asked, also focusing on the man in question.
Maxie sighed, "Emma wouldn't stop crying like, after 5 minutes of you leaving, and I could not get her to stop crying and I was trying to do to much as once, and I broke down and called him over for reinforcement." She peeled her eyes away from the Spin, "I hope you didn't like that vase on the mantle." She turned to Robin, "he really is great with Emma. And me and my nerves. I'm lucky to have a friend like him", she easily parroted her routine.
"Yeah, what more could you want? A guy who can hack into Prada, follow you around adoringly and serenade you?" Robin offered.
"Ok, I'm feeling emasculated by Spinelli, so-" he walked into the room while Maxie and Robin went back down stairs, and interrupted the lanky man.
Spinelli was startled and jumped out of the chair before whispering, "She threw up on me!" He blinked a few times, "Emma, I mean. Not Maxie." He looked down at his bar torso, "That's why, no shirt."
Patrick smiled and led the man out to the hallway, "So, you got her to sleep, huh? She usually rests pretty well after she spits up on a desired article of clothing."
Spinelli simply stated, "I tuned your guitar."
"Relax Spin. I'm just glad you were here to help Maxie and Emma." He took the guitar from Spin and hung it back on its hook, before going into the closet. "Let's get you a scrub top so you don't have to wear… that." He pointed to the soiled shirt on the floor.
*
Within three minutes Patrick and Spinelli came downstairs to find Maxie patiently waiting to leave, chatting idly with Robin. He gathered his own processions quickly and threw on his jacket before turning to Maxie, "Walk you to your car?"
He followed Maxie out the door with a goodbye to the 'Doctorly duo'.
They didn't speak on the walk to Maxie's rental car. But when Spinelli opened the driver side door for her, she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. She got into her car, closed the door, turned on the engine and unrolled the window while Spinelli stood there, waiting for her to drive away.
She looked up at him through thick eyelashes and a secretive small smile on closed lips. "Write me a song." And her smile quirked as she put her car in drive and drove home.
Spinelli watched her car until he couldn't see the red break lights in the offing, "I'd right you a Sonnet".
-fin
Note: I don't own anything you recognize, those belong to the Creators of GH. The song in question is "Mr. Moon" by Kate Micucci. She's a comedian/actress/sandcastle builder who also plays the ukulele. Oh yeah, if you watch Scrubs she plays Ted's lady friend, The Gooch.
Also, this is my first time writing something kind of light-hearted and fluffy. Usually, I'm like OMG! Emo-boy band lyrics and depression stories, ftw! But I kind of like this more, light hearted stuff, now too.
Comment like your life depended on it.