great(est) expectations
Growing up, the storybooks always made Dani think that heroes come in suits of armor. Broad-shouldered, tall, handsome strangers who wait for you at the bottom of the tower asking you to let down your hair, give them your heart, just let them save you and they’ll love you forever, promise. And there was something about that she never wanted—she’s never seen herself in that throne room or glass coffin or anywhere else where a princess might need saving.
Because, no. She doesn’t need any saving that she can’t provide for herself. And she knows that. Really, she does.
But then again, she’s never had anyone knock a guy on his ass for her. At least, not until—
____________________
Rewind.
The last night of Owen’s visit, they go to a bar in Burlington for drinks. It’s not a place they frequent, no, but it’s nearby and always seems busy. Certainly that can’t mean it’s unliked.
And it is nice enough. Clean booths, even if the benches are cracked vinyl, nice enough waitresses, good lighting and, importantly, not too loud. It’s a Friday, so it is fairly packed and it’s late, too, what with them having decided to come last minute after letting Owen cook them one more meal (“You’ll have plenty of leftovers,” he’d said, “so you won’t have to do take-out for a bit”; always trying to take care of them, even when he lives on the other side of the ocean).
He and Jamie are trying to outdrink one another, though neither of them had said this aloud. Dani sits beside her girlfriend, arm around her waist, and watches them fondly as some of Jamie’s beer dribbles down her chin. Somehow, she manages to finish before Owen does, and then she’s slamming her glass back down on the table in front of her, liquid spilling into her lap and Dani laughs.
“Oh my god,” she says, reaching across the table for the napkin holder. “You’re a mess.” She grabs a handful of them and turns Jamie’s head her way, mopping her face up while Jamie smiles and laughs at her own ridiculousness.
Owen stops drinking with just a splash left and sets his own mug down, shaking his head as he makes himself swallow. “I refuse to look like that,” he says, gesturing to her beer-stained flannel. “You win.”
“You refuse to look like what? A winner?” Jamie counters, a triumphant gleam in her eye that makes Dani sort of feel like swooning, even though that’s silly.
“A wet winner,” Dani amends and Jamie must be buzzed because her smirk only gets wider and she wiggles her eyebrows at Dani. “Stop.” Dani pretends to push her away as Jamie darts in quickly to plant a kiss on her cheek.
“God, stop being so bloody happy,” Owen complains, not an ounce of animosity in his voice or his expression. “You’re making me ill.”
“That’s probably because of the beer you just guzzled down,” Dani tells him and Jamie cackles.
“She’s got your number,” she says. She lifts her hand up then, burping into her fist and then apologizing and Dani rolls her eyes.
Sometimes, it’s a wonder that this is the same woman who could make her weak-kneed with just a look. More than anyone Dani has ever known in her life, Jamie contains multitudes.
“I’m gonna get you two some water,” Dani says, getting up.
Jamie throws her a happy grin and Owen gives a sincere, “Thank you,” that Dani waves off. She’s only a foot away from the two of them resume their childish bickering.
Slowly, Dani weaves her way through the other patrons and makes her way to the bar, keeping to herself as much as possible. It isn’t as if she’s been in many, but it seems strange, almost, how the atmosphere of the place can change with the types of people who choose to inhabit it. When they first arrived, the place seemed warm and friendly—lots of clean lines and light grays. A modern-looking chandelier strung above the main tables past the bar. An exposed brick wall beside the booths. Without too many people in it, the space had seemed almost bonhomous. Welcoming.
Now, as the evening grows later and people are getting more and more into their cups, it’s begun to lose some of what made it convivial.
So she tightens up her posture, holds her shoulders and head higher, and finds an empty space beside the bar to wait while the bartender assists someone else. There’s a song playing from the jukebox in the corner, but she can’t make out any of the words or even tell what key the melody is in. All she can hear is the distant, seemingly random scatter of an asynchronous beat.
“What have I done to deserve this ?”
It takes Dani a moment to realize that, despite the phrasing, the question is being asked in relation to her presence. There’s a man sitting on a stool beside where she’s standing and he’s looking at her with dark eyes that make her feel even more on display. He’s smartly dressed, like he’d come to the bar directly from his office, and his tie is loosened around his neck, the top buttons undone in a blatant show of after-hours leisure.
There’s something to the way he’s looking at her—the parting of his chapped lips—that makes her feel trapped. Makes her heart speed up in her chest.
“Excuse me?” she asks. Wanting to ignore him. Knowing in her heart of hearts that he will likely only persist even if she does.
“What brings a girl like you to a place like this?” he asks, eyes dancing with slight intoxication. Leering at her.
Dani taps her fingers against the bartop, a quiet prayer of, “Come on, come one, come on ,” escaping her lips as she stares down the busy bartender. Wanting a rescue. Wanting a way out.
“Did you hear me?” the man asks, and there’s a quality to his voice now that makes her feel even more on edge than before.
Dani decides that the best course of action is to simply play dumb. “Sorry?” she asks, turning his way again with a stiff smile.
He smirks. “I asked what a girl like you is doing in a place like this.”
“Um…” She clears her throat. “Waiting for the bartender.”
“Why don’t you sit down and stay a while.” He gestures at the empty stool beside him. “Let me buy you the next one.”
Dani presses her lips together. Takes a deep breath. “Thank you, but I’m uh...here with people.”
His expression darkens even further somehow. “Boyfriend?” he asks.
Her immediate reaction is to deny it because no . There is no boyfriend. Just her beautiful, silly, and very, very far away girlfriend. But then she thinks of Owen, also with them. Not necessarily intimidating, no, but another man at least.
She grits her teeth. “Yes, actually. Right over there.” She points to the booth where Owen and Jamie are still talking amongst themselves. The man follows her gaze and stares them down. As he does, Jamie perks up, frowning at the sight of him and catching Dani’s eyes.
If there were a way to send for an SOS, Dani would have done it already. Instead, she has to settle for hoping that, after three years together, Jamie might be able to simply read her mind.
“Him?” the man asks. He turns back around and fixes Dani with a hard look that makes her skin crawl.
“Yes,” Dani says. “Him.”
“He looks a little busy with your friend, wouldn’t you say?” He leans a little closer, and Dani jumps when she feels his hand touch her waist, trying to pull her in. “Come on, baby. One drink.”
“No, thank you.” Dani pulls away from him, anger flushing up her neck and chest. “And don’t call me that.”
He grips her arm next, a little too tightly, and Dani’s certain her heart is going to pound directly out of her chest. “What?” he asks, showing his teeth in a way that is so, so different than a smile. “Baby?”
Dani wrenches herself out of his grasp and pulls away. “Yes,” she says, a note of slight hysteria tinting the word. “Now—”
“Somethin’ the matter, Poppins?”
It’s as if her lungs can finally expand when Dani hears Jamie’s voice, feels her warm, gentle hand on her waist. Immediately, she leans into the touch and turns to meet the worried, heated gaze of her girlfriend. She opens her mouth to say something, to ask for Jamie to please, please get her out of here, but she’s cut off by an irritated, “Oh,” coming from the man on the stool.
When she turns, he’s looking between them knowingly, eyes tracing the way Dani has turned herself into Jamie’s touch.
“I didn’t realize you were one of them ,” he spits.
Something hot and panicked shoots through Dani’s chest at his words, like lightning, like a bullet. She feels rather than sees Jamie stiffen beside her, pull herself up to make herself seem taller.
“What’s that?” Jamie asks, teeth bared and feral, already pushing herself in front of Dani to stand between him and the man.
He scoffs, and rolls his eyes. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have wasted my time on a d—”
Thankfully, he doesn’t even have time to finish the thought. Instead, there’s a sickening, fleshy thump as Jamie’s fist collides with his cheekbone.
Hard .
Caught off guard, the man falls off his stool and lands on the floor with an even louder noise. As he does, his arms flail out and knock his glass off the table, and it lands beside him, crashing as it breaks apart upon impact.
Immediately, the entire bar goes quiet as everyone turns to stare at what’s just happened. Owen is standing by the booth, mouth agape and wide-eyed as he looks between a seething Jamie, fist still cocked, and the man on the floor clutching his face.
Dani is clutching Jamie’s other arm, pulling at her and trying to let her mind catch up with the quickly-unfolding events that have just taken place.
“You bitch !” the man yells. He turns to look at the shell-shocked audience around him. “She hit me! You crazy bitch!”
“You’re lucky that’s all I did you fucking dickhead !” Jamie shouts back. “When a girl tells ya’ no thank you, keep your greasy fucking hands off her or I’ll—”
“Jamie,” Dani says softly, tugging at Jamie’s sleeve. “Come on. Let’s just—”
Jamie is wild-eyed when she turns to look at her, as unhinged as Dani’s ever seen her and she looks so angry and beautiful that it’s a wonder Dani keeps standing at all. “He fucking—” she begins, but Dani shakes her head.
“I know, I know.” She throws a look at Owen who is already making his way towards them. “We need to leave, okay? Please.”
It’s the final word, perhaps, that finally brings Jamie back into herself. Her expression softens and she lowers her fist, nodding and letting herself be pulled toward the exit before anyone wises up enough to call the police. As they go, whispered conversations start trickling through the crowd again, muffled shock cupped behind hands as the man begins to pull himself to his feet, deflated and looking very much like a child.
The front door squeaks loudly as they step out into the bitter, November air. It’s shockingly sobering, despite the fact that Dani hasn’t had a drop to drink all night. Her cheeks are flushed with the emotion of the last few minutes and she realizes that she’s trembling, even as she’s gripping Jamie’s wrist.
Fortunately, it seems to have the same effect on Jamie, who’s begun to calm herself down and breathe normally again. The normal sounds of the evening feel otherworldly now—the rush of cars and voices and regular life crashing down on each of them.
The door squeaks again and then Owen is there, coming towards them with a still-surprised gleam in his eye. But there’s something else there, too. Something that Dani thinks might be pride.
“What happened?” he asks, looking between them both.
“Bloody wanker grabbed Dani,” Jamie mutters and she’s inspecting her punching-fist now, eyebrows furrowed.
Owen’s eyebrows raise in even more surprise. “You okay, Dani?” he asks, turning his worry her way.
Dani nods. “I’m fine, I just—”
“Yep,” Jamie says. “It’s broken.”
“ What ?” Dani squeaks and Jamie looks up at her with a wry smile, clutching her hand to her chest.
“My knuckle. It’s broken.”
“Oh my god,” Dani breathes.
“It’s okay.”
“You broke your hand. How is that—”
“I’m fine . It’s not like I—”
“ Jesus , Jamie, why did you have to—”
“What was I supposed to do, Dani?” Jamie asks. “Let him touch you like that when you were trying to get away from him? You looked so scared and he was just...I just...I’m sorry.”
Dani blinks. Tries not to cry. “You big, dumb hero,” she says softly and Jamie looks hurt for a moment until she realizes that Dani is smiling. “You broke your hand defending my honor.”
For a moment, she forgets that Owen is there at all. It’s just her and Jamie and Jamie’s battle wound, wrapped up in a bubble of their own design. Jamie smiles a little, clearly in pain as her adrenaline drains away.
“So out of character for me,” Jamie breathes, laughing a little. “I’m sorry that I—”
Dani cuts her off again, but differently now. Leaning in, she cups Jamie’s face and kisses her, hard and heart and i can’t believe you did that . Jamie lifts her good hand, resting it on Dani’s shoulder as she kisses her back. It lingers for a moment, just long enough for Dani to feel like the earth has stopped spinning beneath her feet.
When she pulls away, Jamie breathes shakily against her lips, resting their foreheads together as they each try to settle down.
Owen clears his throat, bringing them back into the moment. “If you two are done, I really think we should get her to the hospital.”
Reality washes over Dani like an icy ocean wave. “Oh my god, Jamie, your hand .”
The last evening of Owen’s visit, they end the night in the emergency room; Owen buys them food from the vending machine, Jamie makes too many jokes about being temporarily handicapped (“Handicapped,” she says, smiling at herself. “Get it?”) and Dani holds her good hand, remembering all of those heroes she never wanted to be rescued by.
Jamie’s nothing like them. She isn’t a knight or a prince or anything like that. She’s the hard-headed, unbelievable, wonderful love of Dani’s life. And that’s better than any hero she could have ever wished for.
..