Disclaimer: Ain't mine.
Flats
Uptown girl
You know I can't afford to buy her pearls
But maybe someday when my ship comes in
She'll understand what kind of guy I've been
And then I'll win
And when she's walking, she's looking so fine
And when she's talking, she'll say that she's mine
She'll say I'm not so tough
Just because I'm in love with and uptown girl
Billy Joel
He hated her in flats. They brought dangerous images to his mind. Flats accentuated how small
she truly was, he would forget that, she seemed so much bigger, but in flats the illusion of her
personality was gone. Granted he wasn't a tall guy, but he still had her by a good six inches when
she was in flats. When she stood next to him, but only could look him in the shoulder he felt the
overwhelming need to protect and take care of her. She was just so damn small in them. And her
feet… she could fit both of hers into one of his shoes, they were so small. In those flats they looked
like they were bound. Seeing her as small and delicate inflated his already high feelings and desires.
He wanted to be her protector, her man, her Danny. When she wore those shoes he wanted to sing
old jazz, or maybe some Billy Joel, take her to little regulars' only restaurants and dancing. He
wanted to take her to his mother. He could just see her in those flats, that one cream sweater and a
nice skirt sharing a meal with his family. It was a cozy picture. His mother would eat her up with a
spoon. His father wouldn't be as thrilled at first, but Lindsay would win him. The family would
love her. He could see her at a good ol' fashion Messer dinner, screaming, swearing, and kids
everywhere. In this picture he could see a little boy following around his older cousins, a little boy
with his eyes and her hair. In his mind's movie he could see their son climbing into his lap and
pressing a little hand to Lindsay's stomach. He called her Mama. Lindsay's sweater looked like she
was smuggling a basketball. She was pregnant again, pregnant with their second child. She looked
over the dark haired toddler and that look in her eyes… The picture made his heart skip beats. But it
would never happen. She'd never be his, damn his reputation of being a lady killer. The truth was
once he had joined the force his dates had gotten fewer. And since she got there they had almost
been nonexistent. Cindy had only been a few months, like three. And she was the first in like six.
But Lindsay thought he was incapable of having a relationship. Boy was she wrong. With her he
wanted everything. He found himself lobbing Lindsay Messer around in his head. Cindy didn't get
that train of thought, Cindy Messer? That didn't hold a candle to Mrs. Lindsay whatever her middle
name was Monroe Messer. And he wanted children with her. The thought made him swell. But
procreation with Cindy made him ill. Seeing Lindsay in those flats made him think about all the
things he wanted with her but couldn't have. And he hated it.
