Fandom: Six Feet Under
Title: "The Picnic"
Characters: The Fishers, Jennifer, David…and an LA cop.
Description: After David comes clean with his fiancée Jennifer, he catches up with an old friend. This leads him to an LA cop.
Word Count: 18,261
Disclaimer: Six Feet Under was an HBO production created by Alan Ball. The characters and all other creative elements derived from the source material belong exclusively to the show's rightful owners. No copyright infringement is intended and no financial gain is sought by this fan fiction. So all you lawyers can suck it.
A/N: Nathaniel died Christmas 2000. And when Nate came home, he asked David, "You back with Jennifer yet?" which—to me—seemed to indicate that Jennifer and David broke up during 2000. Additionally, after Keith dumped David, Nate asked David how long they had gone out and David had said "six months." So, I'm going to fanwank that they got together during later summer/fall 2000.
This is how David used to spend a lot of his nights. Sitting on the couch, with ice cream, Boston cream pie, or a piña colada.
He'd pulled away for a time, consumed with other preoccupations. But this evening is a return to form, of sorts. David had to come back sometime. He had to get back to Jennifer.
They talk comfortably; the conversation stalls and starts again—chatter about the day's activities or David's latest body, that weird shape on the ceiling…or nothing at all. The meandering conversation is cut short by a song on the radio. Jennifer's rising now. And dancing.
"Music," she sings, "makes the people come together." She is bouncing around. She likes this song. A lot.
"Come dance with me, David," she pleads and takes his hand. She continues singing. "Bourgeoisie and the rebel."
"You know I can't dance," David protests mildly.
"Aw, c'mon," she whines. She takes the bowl of whatever he's not eating out of his hand. She keeps singing. "Do you like to boogie woogie?"
"No," David answers.
She's undeterred. "Boogie woogie, do you like my dancing?" she sings.
A smile is curling around his lips. "Maybe."
She starts tugging on his arm. And now she's really going for it, dance-wise. She waves her arms—her eyes closed—and throws her hair around as she bounces back and forth. "And when the music starts, I never wanna stop, it's gonna drive me crazy."
David watches but doesn't budge.
She drops his hand, and then stops dancing. "I thought you liked Madonna," she says, slash asks, slash accuses.
"I do, I do" David assures her. "I'm just," he tries to be as inoffensive as he can while holding his ground. "I'm not in the mood."
She sighs, her shoulders drop. She stares at him a moment, her face suddenly sober. She's deciding whether to be angry or not. Madonna chooses that moment to remind the DJ that she just want to dance with her baby.
Jennifer starts walking towards the kitchen. "You want another drink?" she asks. She's not mad.
"Yeah," David asks. "Just… whatever you have chased with coke."
And like clockwork his mind goes back to their kiss. It lingers with him. So hungry. So fiery. So electric.
It's almost corny.
"All I have is Pepsi," she calls.
"That's fine," he answers.
He thinks of Jennifer's mouth. Delicate, with plump lips. Supple. Her tongue slips under his... gently? It tastes sweet. Sweet, and not at all like burnt tobacco.
She comes back with a tumbler and hands it to him. The she drops in next to him on the couch and throws her feet over his lap. She takes his free hand and twirls it in her own. David watches as she traces the lines on his hands—hands branded from lifting bodies, handling chemicals, sanding bone and piecing cadavers back together. She kisses his fingers just the same.
And he winces where she can't see—on the inside.
"I've been thinking," she starts wistfully. "About what you said."
David takes a sip. "Yeah?"
She nods. "Yeah. I'm coming around to Coco. Even Max."
David doesn't answer. Just… smiles. Kind of.
"Coco and… what was the other name? Clementine?"
"Clementine," she repeats to herself. She has a moment of realization, and then wags her finger. "But there is no way I'm naming any child of mine Willem." She laughs and thumps his knee. "No way."
There was stubble in the cracks of his mouth, David thinks. And he was reckless and aimless, sloppily sucking at the corners of David's mouth, his lips and the crevice under his nose. He smelled like aftershave, sweat and Marlboro's.
"I was thinking maybe, I dunno, Martin?"
David thinks about indulging this conversation. Maybe offering another name: Aiden, Harry, Gavin. But instead he mentally commends himself for turning down the blowjob; he promised himself he wouldn't cheat. Anymore. It wasn't fair. Not to Jennifer.
He tells himself that a kiss isn't cheating.
"What do you think of Mark? You know—to go with Max?" She looks at him expectantly, a nervous smile on her face. "You don't like it, do you?"
David gently lifts her legs off of his lap and takes her hands in his. And then pauses. He's not sure what he's about to say, but his nerve is up and he has to do it now.
"What?" she asks, and he sees more nervousness and less smiling. "What is it?"
"There's something," he takes a deep breath and looks away. When he turns back she's frozen…and panicked. But David is determined. "There's something I should have told you a long time ago, and I didn't. Because I was a coward. Because I am a coward. But it's not fair to you and it's not fair to me."
Her breaths quicken and there's the faintest tremble in her bottom lip.
"Jennifer," he says. "I'm gay."
She doesn't react. It's as if she didn't hear, and David doesn't know if he should feel relieved or terrified. The silence, though is too much too bear.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," he continues, and he looks down at her hands; they are quaking. "I swear I didn't. I… I don't know what I thought would happen. But, um, I can't lie to you anymore. You deserve the truth. You've given me the truth and… and I can't keep lying to you."
She drops her head down and she breathes in stifled gasps. Each labored breath only makes David feel even worse.
"Say… say something. Please Jennifer," he begs.
She finally looks up—her eyes glassy and her face dazed—and reaches up to touch his face. "I thought maybe…" she says. She looks away for a long time—several seconds, maybe—but when she turns around, there's calm on her face.
"Did you ever love me?" she asks.
And this David can answer. "I love you now. I'll always love you," he says. And it's the first time that it's felt like the truth.
"David?" she asks.
"Make love to me," she pleads.
"OK," David agrees, and starts to unbutton his shirt.
Feedback: Your reviews, concrit and general thoughts are the fuel to my fire. Thanks in advance.