A/N: This one came to me as soon as I woke up, and I had to write it before pushing off to work. Another shorty, but I hope goody. Be prepared for once again an encounter of the random sort with another OC. Well random, but purposeful for Dave. Thank you so much to all of you for your comments and reviews. Please keep em' coming my way.


The call came a few days later.

"Hello, am I speaking with a Mr. David Michael Karofsky?"

"Depends. Are you selling anything?"

"No sir - "

"Are you looking to buy something?"

"Um - No -"

"Are you seeking me for some past magazine subscription I ordered in college as a joke and completely forgot about?"

"No, Mr. Karofsky. None of those things. I'm an attorney. My name is Peter Mulligan. I'm representing your wife for the divorce proceedings."

"Oh - Right. So what do I owe the pleasure Mulligan? Awesome name by the way - like an ambitious, sea-worthy pirate."

"Thanks, I guess. But I'm actually calling to determine the final meeting place to sign the paperwork. You know, to finalize everything and make the divorce official."

...

"Mr. Karofsky?"

"Yeah, sorry. Sure. Is she opposed to - um - meeting out here in Lima? I don't like to go too far since I'm usually shuttling my sister around so..."

"Oh, I don't I think that will be a problem. She made it clear that whatever location would be acceptable in order to get everything done."

...

"Cool. Well, I have a place in mind. I can give you the address..."

He felt like he was sort of tainting it with his own bull shit - this place that had so far served as a monument to finding happier moments between the plethora of tween-aged angst, homo denial and an early on-set of a mid-life crisis.

Dave was sitting across from the pair, calmly shoveling a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. He had ordered a cup of the animal cookie flavor - which actually was in fact, pretty good. He couldn't help but smile around the spoon, feeling that his choice to order that particular flavor was maybe his subconcious mind attempting to produce a sense of memorable comfort to be able to get through this shit... To draw strength from the imaginings of his sister sitting next to him, threatening to shoot a piece of cookie at his face if he didn't suck it up...

Lisa looked anything but casual, dressed in a dark gray form fitting blazer settled over a deep purple blouse, a pencil skirt hugging her thin hips. The leather strap of her Dooney and Burke bag clutched tightly in her hand, as if she was truly contemplating the option of either swinging it at him or making a sudden and very hurried escape.

Dave thinks he recalls actually buying that fucking bag. Not even for a special occasion. Just some random attempt to reassure his wife that his drinking and their having sex soon after was merely coincidental. That maybe the latest fashionable bag could distract her enough to make her stop questioning; the glow of her co-workers insatiable jealousy soaking her in denial, and restoring her sense of fully and completely being loved and dobted upon by her husband. Material things, serving to negate her inevitable fears... If only for a while longer.

"So, Mr. Karofsky, if we could proceed with the - "

"Dave. Call me Dave. And you guys should seriously try this. The animal cookie just does things to you."

Lisa, her newly acquired bobbed haircut and honey highlights shining under the beaming flourescent lighting, huffs, and shoots him a look of clear contempt.

"Can we just - please - move on? I have to be getting back."

Dave shrugs while Mr. Mulligan clears his throat to continue.

"So, as I was saying before, you've both agreed upon - despite signing a prenuptual agreement, to settle with relinquishing certain properties and shared convect - "

"I love this. Seriously - Lis, you gotta try this," He remarks jovially, holding out a spoonful for her to take.

"Are you being serious right now? It's bad enough you decide to do this here of all places, but now you keep prolonging this just to ask me if I want to have some of your fucking ice cream, David?"

Dave slumps back in the booth, slowly slipping the spoon into his own mouth instead.

"Just thought I'd ask. Despite the situation, good is good."

"Whatever. Let him finish. Sign the papers. And let's end it already - "

"How have you been? I haven't been able to get a hold of you so, I was wondering."

Lisa is seething, her already poised figure somehow managing to become that much more rigid.

"Who cares? Shut up so we can - "

"I do. I'm asking because I actually do."

Her brown eyes are suspiscious, trying to decipher whether the question was some sort of cryptic plan of attack - he knows this, but the glare is noticably less heated now, decreasing in its initially scorching intensity.

"I've been fine. I just finished my online Masters program. And I - I'm dating again."

"Oh. That's good. Anyone I know?"

"Dave, wha -"

"Just genuinely curious. Trust me."

"If I answer can we move on?"

Dave nods, his teeth scraping against the plastic spoon as he casually takes another bite.

"Anthony. You know, from my work."

"Right. The guy with the dimple in his chin and the sort of light green eyes, pretty good taste in suits?"

Lisa nodded with a soft smile. "Yeah. Exactly. We've - um - we've been dating for a bit now."

Dave's grin spreads, the spoon twiddling absent mindedly between his forefinger and thumb.

"Nice guy. I mean - he always seemed pretty nice."

"He is. I really like him."

"I'm glad. Honestly."

Mr. Mulligan had remained quiet, his eyes volleying between the two during the exchange, waiting for the proper moment to try to interrupt and steer them back on track.

"Um - alright then, so are we able to continue or should I - "

"And you?" She asks, effectively cutting the lawyer off. Mr. Mulligan leans back awkwardly, looking as if he it was paining him to not roll his eyes at this random act of disclosure.

"Nah. Not really."

Lisa shoots him a sad smile. "Oh. That's too bad. I'm sure it'll turn around eventually."

"Maybe."

Lisa is staring at him openly. Her dark eyes suddenly moistening exceptionally. Dave is a bit taken aback by the drastic change in her expression. Like a powerful dam slowly cracking, the cement breaking away. She opens her mouth to speak, struggling for a moment as it opens and closes. Finally as several tears glide down her face, the words are dispensed, stuttered out quietly.

"I - I - I was with him. I was with Anthony - while we were - still... still together."

Dave swallows, the spoon falling precariously into the cup.

"Um - Mrs. Karofsky - I mean Ms. Sterling, you may want to hold off on - "

"I just - I guess, I got tired of pretending. And I just needed to feel - I don't know... wanted. Like someone really wanted me. You know?"

Dave is finding it hard to look at her, but he keeps his eyes steady, listening carefully while biting his lip to keep from bursting.

"I know you loved me David. I know that you wanted to love me. But I think we both knew that it wasn't real. That what I needed from you and what you tried to give, wasn't real - was it?"

His eyes drift toward the table then, the tears building. He can't seem to speak... His mouth is so dry, the words feel stuck...

"I - um - I - I, knew. I knew - about you two. Least I figured as much."

Lisa's bottom lip trembles, the tears cascading over the rubied flesh with abandon. Her wet eyes staring unabashedly at Dave.

"You knew?"

He nods succinctly. "Yeah. But how could I - I can't be mad at you about that Lis. Okay? I'm not. I have no right - "

"Yeah you do. Neither of us were perfect in this Dave. I realize that now. That as much as I want to blame you for everything - It wasn't all you. Not all of it anyway."

Dave sighs heavily, the warmth behind his eyes spilling over. Lisa smiles through her tears. It's tired but genuine.

"I know that I can be a bitch. I mean - I knew your Grandmother Mary always hated me."

They share a laugh at that. He couldn't argue that one.

"Not to mention me being pushy, and over-bearing, and hormonally prone to moodiness that I always seemed to unfairly project onto you. Even if things - you know - weren't the way they were - we still never would've worked. Not in the end."

'Even if things weren't the way they were.'

He knows the statement was actually code for, 'if he wasn't as gay as a bag of rainbows tied neatly to the the back of a unicorn flying through neon, skittle colored clouds.'

She still couldn't say it. But he knew that she was no longer pretending.

"I'm sorry," is all he can manage. He hopes that it can reach her. That those two seemingly insignificant words can reach her heart and truly capture every ounce of painful regret he'd ever caused her.

"Ditto," she affirmed.

Dave can't help but chuckle at the admission. "What are we in that movie 'Ghost'? You're not gonna break out the Unchained Melody, on your phone are you?"

"No. But I might pull out the pottery wheel I secretly carry in my purse and whip up a stylish but useless vase."

And in that moment, Dave remembers exactly why he grew to care about Lisa in the first place.

"Touche Ms. Sterling. Touche."

Lisa wipes her eyes and seems to relax, her shoulders sagging slightly, said purse sliding off her shoulder into the booth seat as if she was relinquishing her armor from a horrendously tiring battle.

"So, shall we?" She poses.

"Let's get 'er done."

"And actually - I do want some - I was just trying to avoid the calories," She related as her eyes hover on the ice cream cup left abandoned in front of him. He nods his assent as she dips the spoon further into the smooth substance and daintily slips a bite into her mouth. He smiles at the memory that emerges in his mind. The image of a certain pale, beautifully blue eyed man, making a very similar remark over a cup of the same flavor not long ago.

"You sound just like somebody else I know."

"Somebody with good sense I take it?"

"Somebody with great sense."

Except for when it came to the ways of the heart anyway, he thinks to himself. Not like he could talk... But still.

They grow quiet, settling into a comfortable silence.

"Sign. Just - Please, sign."

Damn. He'd completely forgotten about pirate lawyer, who looked more than a bit exasperated at the moment, his chin resting in his up-turned palm as he leaned on the table.

"Definitely. As soon as you take a bite of this, I'd be happy to Mr. Mulligan," Lisa voices airily as she holds out the spoon with a nice chunk of cookie sitting atop the scooped mound.

Dave shakes his head, feeling oddly lighter. He shrugs as Mr. Mulligan shoots him an incredulous look.

"You heard the lady. And she can be a hormonal, griping bitch - so I'd listen to her."


A/N: Weird. It started out with me intending to make Lisa be a raging bitch but in the end, it ended up like this. I guess I like the idea that Dave got to absolve some of his guilt with their failed marriage and that Lisa is sort of getting to a better place which hopefully will inspire Dave to do so too. Meh, what can you do? The story wants what it wants. I just follow along with a trail of words in my wake.