1963-12-03 - If You Need Somebody Shot
Summary: Heather introduces the idea of Christmas to David…a real Christmas. Also photo albums. Disturbing.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
heather maverick 


Ever since David mentioned that his latest case involved interviewing homeless and wayward teenagers, searching for the whereabouts of the missing ones, Heather has had kids on the brain. Not babies. Young people. Young homeless people. If she's been planning to do anything about it, she's kept it quiet. She's like that, though.

When they have the first genuinely snowy days of the year, though, she's ready. Even as the sun is disappearing, she's in the kitchen, making sandwiches.

"You were going to go ask around about those missing kids again, right?" she asks, in the midst of that flurry of activity. "It's cold, I thought we could take some food around to them." She's been awfully quiet lately, in general…which is less like her. She's not a chatterbox but she likes to ask David about his day, likes to tell him about hers — whatever they can actually share.

Maybe it's both of them that are quiet. It was a hard month. But here's an opening, at least.

*

The question is answered by an affirmative-sounding hum as David comes striding out of the bedroom, looking down as he adjusts the shoulder holster that will be hidden beneath his jacket. It's a bit of a comfort to feel safe wearing one again. Almost like a security blanket, for someone like him.

He's noticed the quiet. At least, the half that he was responsible for. But he's only recently recognized that it has been a mutual quiet, and not one of the 'I am respecting your boundaries' kinds, either. So the opening isn't one he's about to let pass by.

"I'm sure that would go over well," David murmurs approvingly, and soon he's coming up behind Heather to press a kiss against her cheek. "You sure you want to go out and catch cold with me? Not that I'm complaining."

*

"I would love to go catch cold with you." Heather rises up on her toes for a proper kiss, then pauses halfway and drops her heels back to the floor. "You know I love you, don't you?" she asks, a frown creasing her brow.

*

"I do know that," David says with a small smile, raising his eyebrows at her. "And I love you, too." He is… relatively certain he's said it before. Has he not? Suddenly, he looks a little worried. "What brings this on?"

*

"I'm being silly, that's all." Heather wraps the last sandwich in waxed paper, making a tidy little square with tucked corners with the precision of someone who's done it for decades. She stacks it with the rest in a basket on the kitchen table, making perfectly even towers of neat, symmetrical sandwiches. She sweeps the few remaining crumbs from the cutting board into the sink, then wipes the counters with a few brisk motions.

"Jean-Paul thinks I should stop wearing my wedding ring. He seems to think it might bother you. And that it's, I don't know. Unhealthy maybe. Unreasonable. That I still wear it." Heather rinses the rag and the sink, then pauses to look at her ring, then at David. "Would you like me to take it off?"

*

Oh, thank god, it's just Jean-Paul being a nuisance. David was afraid it might be something important.

"I just assumed that you would take it off when you were ready to take it off," David says with a shrug, running a hand back over his hair. "I would not feel right, asking you to do it before you're ready. Not with — mmh." He cuts himself off and makes a face, waving that thought off with the quickness. Nope.

*

"Not with what?" Heather has no idea where that might be going. It might not be an earth-shattering problem, but it is bothering Heather. "I don't know how people do relationships, David. As Jean-Paul likes to point out, I was practically "an infant" when I met Mac. He never liked that relationship — and never bothered to hide it. But he says you deserve better, even if you're horribly dull. I don't want to offend you or disrespect you."

Heather takes her apron off and hangs it up before she goes to get her sensible boots and coat out of the closet. "Do you want me to make coffee before we go?"

*

David has made it a rule that, if Heather asks, he will answer. She may not be aware of this rule. But when she asks after the dismissed thought, he can't help but cast a vaguely defeated look up at the ceiling. He's brought this upon himself.

"Not with my track record. Not without offering you something to replace it with. Not a lot of things." David offers her a sheepish smile. "You could, or we could buy some on our way."

*

"Your track…" Heather stops and puts her hands on her hips. "David. As far as I'm concerned, your track record is a non-issue. What went wrong was not your fault and I will tell you that until I am old and gray because it's true. I don't want you to replace it with anything. You're not a replacement for anyone." She comes over to slide her arms around him. "I'm not with you in spite of what happened. And I'm not with you just because Mac isn't here anymore. You need to know that."

*

"I know, I know. Why do you think I wasn't going to finish the thought aloud?" David asks with a teasing smile, leaning down to catch her in a quick kiss when she comes up to him. "I am allowed to be silly every once in a while, just the same as you are. I promise that I know you are not settling," he says earnestly, giving her a tight hug around the waist.

*

"You are absolutely allowed to be silly. Of course." This time Heather does stand on her toes to give him a kiss, snuggling closer. "Things have been so awful, I've hardly had a moment to appreciate being madly in love with you." She offers him another kiss. "I think after we go take these sandwiches around and talk to some of those young people, we should come home so I can do some of that appreciating we've been missing out on, get caught up."

*

David is having a difficult time not laughing at her, but the kisses help. Somewhat. "I think that could probably be arranged," he agrees, reaching up to affectionately run a hand through her hair. "Work has been rough lately, I take it. Anything you're allowed to talk about? If it would help."

*

"Well, I don't think it's a secret that I had a yelling match with Thor in the middle of Central Park the other day." Heather gives David one last kiss, then pulls away before she starts unbuttoning him, which will lead to no one getting fed and nothing getting done. Not that it's not a good idea, just that it's not very responsible. "That's how my week was…well, there's more to it than that, but I don't know how much is public. We can get coffee on the way, you're right," she adds, taking up her coat.

*

"Well, whatever you can talk about, I'm here," David notes, taking a moment to smooth the front of his shirt before he moves to retrieve his own coat and haul it on. They need to get going before they forget why they were going out in the first place. It's a hazard. "And if you need somebody shot, you know I won't ask you too many questions~"

*

"When you say things like that, I remember how lucky I am." The melting look Heather gives him suggests she's absolutely sincere. "But I think we've nixxed the shooting of Asgardians." Pause. "Have you ever had to take on anyone of them? Or any other technologically advanced types?" She starts lacing up her boots. "I'm asking for a friend, of course. I've done more research on bullet materials in the last month than I thought there was research to do."

*

David makes a thoughtful noise as he draws on his coat. Asking for a friend, of course. "Not that I know of. People who are too damned sturdy, sure, but not Asgardians specifically," he murmurs, going to make sure the sandwiches are all packed and ready to go. "My methods aren't very refined, though. I just kept hitting harder until something would take."

*

"I like your methods just fine," Heather says cheekily. She does up her coat and gets her mittens out of her pockets. "Let's go give those kids some food and see if any of them have any more answers for you." She tucks a tea towel over the top of the basket, then heads for the door. "I'm excited that it's snowing at last." She gives David a bright smile. "I love winter — good thing, given how it gets in Alberta. And Christmas. Are we going to have a Christmas tree? Do you even like Christmas?" She stops in the doorway. "I have no idea."

*

"Neither do I. I've never really had one," David admits, following Heather out into the hallway. "Not that I'm opposed, I've just always been…" Alone. He shrugs a shoulder, looking thoughtful. "Would you like to have a tree? There's room for one, I think."

*

"Tree. Lights. Stockings. Presents. Eggnog." Heather bounces on her toes, then skips a few steps. "I know it's probably a cliche but I love Christmas. I miss my family most, then," she adds, headed for the stairs. "I always had to keep my distance from them all these years because of our work but…I'm practically no one now and we're in New York and they're in Canada. Maybe it's worth the risk of seeing them. I would love for you to meet them. We're a terrifyingly huge family, mind you. The kids have husbands and wives and their own kids now and that's not getting into friends and cousins. There's probably thirty people at a small gathering of us all."

*

"I've survived worse things," David muses thoughtfully, peering after her for a moment when she skips. Do not laugh at her, David North. Not if you value your life. "If you want to visit, we should visit. I expect Jones would be willing to lose me for a few days, at least."

*

"I would love that. I…well, I should make sure they want to see me, first." Heather looks over her shoulder, frowns a little. "I haven't seen them in more than ten years. After Mac died, there were still security concerns and I was shuffled off to New York — showing up at home would have been a dead giveaway that the program was over." The doorman opens the front door of the Baxter Building to let them out onto the street.

"I get updates. I just…couldn't go home." She tucks her arm in David's. "When I picked Mac, I lost everything else."

*

David just hums softly as he follows her out onto the street, offering the doorman a quick smile as he offers Heather his arm. "Well. Then we shall just have to call them and find out," he says lightly, leaning over to kiss the top of her head as they walk. "I promise to be on my best behavior if they do." A pause. "And if they don't."

*

"If I knit you a terrible Christmas sweater, will you wear it?" Heather asks, though she's already giggling before she finishes the question. She's probably not serious. Probably.

*

"As long as Jones doesn't see me in it." David will not laugh at her, he refuses. "I get enough grief over my taste as it is, I can't even imagine."

*

"I don't deserve you," Heather says, laughing. Yes, she's laughing at herself. "I just…I want us to have photo albums and friends and ridiculous traditions and…maybe that's me getting ahead of myself." She waves down a cab, which pulls to the curb. They're not about to find any homeless people on this block, especially not teenagers. "I want you to look back and be happy. Whatever happens in the future, I want to make a life for us now that's a foundation for good things."

*

"Photo albums sounds alarmingly normal. We're not very good at normal," David muses thoughtfully, moving up to draw the door of the cab open for her and wait while she climbs in. "But we have the rest of it covered already, Heather. So I suppose that's a good start."

*

"Think of them as action reports on our domestic life," Heather says, settling into the cab. "Complete with recon photographs. How else are we going to debrief on the holidays?" She is teasing him…mostly. "Work has been so dreadful, I just want us to have a home life that makes up for it. But, we're lucky to have what we do, so let's go take this food down and see if anyone has anything useful for you."

*

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