Characters: Roxy/Rube
Genre: Possible romance
Abstract: Roxy pays Rube another visit after her usual yearly grief fest, only to confess that he's more.
Disclaimer: Dead Like Me and its characters are the creation of Bryan Fuller et al. and copy written under MGM/Showtime/etc. No infringement of their rights is intended. The stories written under the penname Gabigail, however, do belong to me. None are written for profit and are intended for entertainment purposes only.
Another note: Homeless Heart is preformed by Amanda Stott and is under the copy write of EMI Canada. This is a wonderful song that I thought helped to bring these characters together, for those of you who haven't heard of Amanda Stott, give it a listen: Chasing the Sky, it's really good.
A place for your Homeless Heart
When you're lost in the dark,
When you're out in the cold,
When you're looking for something
that resembles your soul.
When the wind blows your house of cards,
I'll be the home, to your homeless heart.
I've known Roxy for a little over twenty-one years. There are things that I know about her, that I'm fairly certain she doesn't even know about herself; like the fact that no matter how rough and tough she acts, she's still human. Undead or not, and no matter how she may deny it, underneath it all she's a softie, who like many of us sometimes needs a place to feel safe. Therefore, it's completely understandable that on the eve of her death she needs a strong shoulder, she needs to grieve, she needs to cry, and inevitably she needs to breath, which hopefully will allow her to finally and fully let go of whatever anger she managed to conceal deep inside. Anger that she constantly uses in a quasi-weapon manner to keep us at arms length, or push us away altogether, which she knows she can't use against me.
For my reapers it's understood that I will always be there for them. To help, to guide, and to teach them what I know, in due time. Somehow Roxy is very different from the rest of them. She is unique in the sense that we have a different kind of relationship, a bond, perhaps more of an understanding. I have never been sure. Unlike the countless times I offer her my ear, this night will be different, she will arrive at my flat, and I will open my door to her and her troubles. With Roxy, this is a once a year occurrence that may very well end as it always does. With her still grieving her death. But every year, every time she comes to me, I somehow hope that she will be able to move on. To free herself from the pain that binds her to her anger.
I don't know if it's that she's truly lost; there is a distinct possibility that her soul has been battered and bruised one too many times, or that she suffers the same syndrome as I myself suffer. That of a broken slightly misplaced heart. It isn't something that you just open up and tell someone about, all you can do is be there when they need you, be that one person who understands what they need, be the one person who allows them, no questions asked, to seek shelter within kind words, a warm embrace, or more. This is Roxy I'm talking about, how does one ever know how to be around her, except yourself?
Open. Close me,
Leave your secrets with me,
I can ease your pain.
And my arms will be,
Like walls around you,
Come in from the rain
She left my flat that evening as she has done before, I felt as I always did, helpless in the sense that I couldn't really do anything but listen, yet hopeful of the prospect of her moving towards her future. Time passes slowly when your heart and mind are heavy, yet it passes. Not expecting anyone this evening, I settle myself in my favourite chair, a glass of brandy on the small side table, light music plays in the background, and I ready myself to begin reading my book. Unexpected interruptions are not the norm, and my reapers know that I like to keep my distance. Well, George and Mason are the only two who seem to break with protocol, but she's young and sometimes needs to vent, and who better to use as a venting vessel? Mason, well he tends to cause trouble, a classic example supplementing his income by smuggling illegals where the sun don't shine and needing somewhere to crash, with someone who knows how to deal with him. Aside from George and Mason, I would never have expected to find her standing on my doorstep. I cannot hide the surprise that I'm sure is etched across this old face when my eyes fall upon her.
"I didn't know where else to go, who else to turn to." Her voice is rough and it's obvious to me that she's been crying. Her eyes are puffy and she clutches a Kleenex between slender fingers as though it will save her.
"Please come in." I say, closing the door and taking her coat. She is dressed in a lovely cream turtleneck sweater and black pinstripe pants. It's nice to see her dressed in something other than her metre maid's uniform. I had begun to wonder if she had anything else to wear. Well besides that lovely crepe black dress she wore the other night. I smile as she shakes the rain from her hair. I had been so wrapped up in my quiet evening I hadn't noticed the rain that poured outside my windows.
"I hope that I'm not disturbing you." She is quiet, almost contemplative in her mood and gestures, perhaps in a manner to hide the root of her visit.
"Not at all." I reply. "Please have a seat. Can I get you something? Tea or Coffee?" she shakes her head in response.
"I'm fine, thank you." She follows me into the living room and has a seat on one of the chairs, as I poke the fire quickly and then set myself in my chair. I cannot help but watch her as she fiddles with her fingers in an almost nervous manner. Going quiet, she finally looks at me. "I'm not exactly fine."
"I kind of got that. What is it Rox?" I say prompting her to speak.
"I'm not sure. Everything is messed up. My head is fixed in one direction, yet my heart has suddenly gone in another." She tries her best to explain.
If you're running in the wrong direction,
I will lead you back
When you're lost in the dark
When you're out in the cold
When you're looking for something
that resembles your soul
When the wind blows your house of cards,
I'll be the home, to your homeless heart
"You're going to have to give me a little more to work with." I have to ask, not wanting to jump to a conclusion. I don't want to look like an old fool. She sniffles and looks down at her hands; it's funny how reminiscent of a young girl who's lost her way she seems. Smiling I wait for her to tell me whatever it is she has to say, it cannot possibly be worse then finding out the life you knew was nothing more than a dream.
"I've had a lot of time to think about this. To try and figure out what's the matter with me. The problem is, I can't. Nothing makes sense as I had imagined it would."
"Rox, whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm here to listen. You have my ear, and my shoulder should you need it. You know that." I smile and sit so that I can lean towards her. "Out of curiosity though, does it have anything to do with your letting go of twenty-one years worth of anger?" I ask, with the slight thought that this hasn't to do with that, rather something else, which at this point I'm fairly certain that I'm about to find out. She seems to be bracing herself for some sort of impact, taking a deep breath, in an attempt to tell me whatever it is she has to tell me.
"You say that as though it's the easiest thing to do."
"I know you better than you think I do." I say with the hope that it helps her and ease whatever tension she feels. She looks away as though whatever well rehearsed lines she had going around her in head fail her.
"I've tried really hard to do things differently Rube. Go out and meet new people, something, anything to get my mind off what I'm about to tell you." She stands and paces towards the fireplace.
"Whatever it is Rox, I can help you through it."
"You don't understand." She turns on her heel and looks at me; suddenly things are starting to make sense. "I've worked with you for twenty-one years. Twenty-one years of second in command, second in command to a man who has absolutely no idea what he does to me!" she closes the distance between us. That was pretty loud and clear, your best friend and confidant basically telling you that they want to be more than just friends. Isn't that supposed to be a good thing when the feeling is mutual, is it not? But all I can do is stare at her, my hands gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that my knuckles are turning white. I clear my throat in an attempt to find my voice, which seems to have lost its way.
"Well Roxy, I hadn't any idea." I say hardly above a whisper as she sits back down in the chair across from me.
"This is all wrong. I shouldn't be here." She says as she stands and rushes to the chair that supports her coat. "I'm sorry Rube, things were probably better had I not said what I just said." She frowns, I've never liked it when she frowns, there's always this far off sadness. I quickly make my way towards her in an attempt to close the sudden distance between us.
"Roxy, don't go." I whisper, in response she freezes and looks up at me.
I'll be the home, to your homeless heart.
Lonesome stranger, with a crowd around you,
I see who you are.
You joke, they laugh
Till the show is over then you fall so hard.
If you're needing a soul to soul connection,
I'll run to your side
(Chorus)
When you're lost in the dark
When you're out in the cold
When you're looking for something
that resembles your soul
When the wind blows your house of cards,
I'll be the home, to your homeless heart.
Open, close me.
Leave your secrets with me,
I can ease your pain.
And my arms will be,
Like walls around you,
Come in from the rain
If you're running in the wrong direction,
I will lead you back
(Chorus)
Broken shattered like a mirror in a million pieces
Sooner or later, you've got to fight.
Something, someone, to find you and save you
When you're lost in the dark
When you're out in the cold
When you're looking for something that resembles your soul
When the wind blows your house of cards,
I'll be the home, to your homeless heart
When you're looking for something
that resembles your soul
When the wind blows your house of cards,
I'll be the home, to your homeless heart
I'll be the home, to your homeless heart.
To be continued? Yes? No? R&R and we shall see…