Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> Foo Fighters
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I sighed in the early morning light, stretching and making those ridiculous dinosaur noises everyone
makes when they first wake up. I rolled over, aiming to end up blissfully in the middle of the empty
king-size bed… only to run directly into a large lump, softly snoring next to me.
“Oof!” The lump started, trying to dig itself out of the doona. “What was that
I laughed as Dave's shaggy head emerged, locks of hair standing up every which way. “I'm
sorry, babe, I just haven't gotten the hang of sharing a bed again yet!”
Dave fixed me with a serious look. “We'll you'd better hurry up and fucking learn. I'm not
I mirrored his face. “Oh, really? Well, shit. What am I supposed to tell the line of suitors
waiting in the hallway with their gifts?”
“Tell them to FUCK OFF! I married you first!” Dave yelled in the direction of the door
before plunging his head back under the doona and moving close to tickle me. I squealed in delight,
writhing away from his callused fingers before launching underneath with him. Screw the sunlight.
Staying in bed was way better.
“You drive me INSANE!” Dave yelled into the fridge. “Seriously! If the milk is
empty, fuckin' throw it away!”
“You're being ridiculous! The empty carton is a reminder to buy more milk!”
“This is not one of your sitcoms, Olivia!” Dave threw the carton angrily towards the
garbage, missing by a mile. “Fuck it! Just get rid of your damn rubbish.”
“Make me.” Her voice dipped lower, seductively slipping into the kitchen. Dave's eyes
boggled as he took in the long tanned legs running up towards the scraps of satin preserving her
modesty. He gulped as his eyes run further upward to her stunning cleavage and bedroom eyes.
He whimpered just a little. Very manly. “…Uh. Okay. You win. Do what you want…
just please get over here?”
She giggled and ran towards him, all thoughts of an argument evaporating like the last few drops of
2 weeks. The longest two weeks of her life. Thank god for the twelve day rule. We only ever tour
for up to 12 days straight… then it's hometime. Got kids, can't stand to be away for them for
much longer. Plus sex. Her smile crept across her face imagining his smiling face joking with
the journalist. God he was handsome.
Suddenly the face materialised in front of her, dark t-shirt wrinkled from the long flight, hair a
bit fuzzy at the back where it had been rubbing against the headreast of his seat. She couldn't hold
back a squeal of joy, couldn't stop her from jumping into his arms, wrapping her legs tightly around
his waist and kissing him hard, their hair tangling together to make a dark curtain shielding them
from the photographers. He pulled back to look at her carefully, giant smile on his face.
“Miss me then?”
“Not at all.” She smiled back, complete again.
Listen to this. I hope it explains more than what I could give you at the time. - D
She crumpled up the note again and put the CD into the player, listening to the words coming alive,
chronicling their last few days together.
Hey, don't go and turn the other way, don't say there's nothing more to say, come on hear me
Maybe if she'd listened to him, things would be different. Had he really lied to her, or had she
just not listened to what he needed to say to her?
You used to say I couldn't save you enough, so I've been saving it up, I started saving it up.
And when you said I couldn't give you enough, I started giving you up, I started giving you
She always wanted more. More time with him, more displays of affection, more commitment. She knew
the reason he couldn't give it, she knew he was married. There was no argument there. Why did she
fight so hard? Wasn't what they had special enough?
Hey, I wanna see if you can share. I wanna keep all I can take…
Relationships had never been her thing. The balance of power, the constant struggle to stay in
control of your own heart? Too hard. It started off well. He made her feel amazing. And then as the
months wore on and his divorce never got any closer… she started to doubt. Him, his promises,
her trust, her emotions. Her judgement. How dare he make her feel that way?
Come now take the blame, that's okay I'll play the game. I don't care it's all the same, watch it
all go up in flames.
He'd screamed at her at the end. He didn't start it, she did. Something about `You don't love me
enough to keep me here'. He told her she was just like everyone else in the world, always wanting
more from him, never satisfied. Why couldn't she trust that everything would work out? Why couldn't
she wait for him?
You are not me, Arlandria. You and what army, Arlandria. Oh god, you gotta make it stop!
Maybe they weren't designed to be together. Neither of them could stand what was happening. Why was
it falling apart? She wiped away the tears and tried to ignore the ache in her heart as he screamed
the last line in the song. Every fibre of her knew he was hurting too… but what was the
She rolled over, took the CD out and carefully snapped it into pieces, watching the shards fall to
the floor. She took a deep breath and willed every one of her painful emotions to transfer to the
shiny pieces. Maybe she could be free of him soon.
The car sped quickly around the corner, brunette driver letting out a triumphant yell while her
older passenger held on for dear life.
“Olivia! The point is not to kill yourself, it's to enjoy the feeling of freedom! PLEASE slow
Olivia laughed in reply. “What's the matter old man?? Scared of a little speed?” She
glanced over at Dave's pale face, his eyes bugging as their eyes locked.
“FUCKING WATCH THE ROAD, OLIVIA!” He pointed jerkily in the direction of yet another
hairpin corner that the car almost didn't make it around. “FUUUUUUUCKK!!”
The road evened out, sheer rock walls giving way to pleasant rolling grassy hills. Olivia gave a
last gleeful noise as she locked up the brakes and spun the car round three times before coming to a
halt. Dave threw open the door just in time to empty the contents of his stomach. A few minutes
later, he sat up straight in the seat, breathing heavily.
Olivia casually traced her finger along the steering wheel of the Porsche. “Sooo…
Dave walked through the door, running a hand through his messy hair. “Liv?” He called
into the dark house.
“Up here!” came the cheerful reply. Dave looked up and headed toward the upstairs lounge
room. He found her sprawled over the couch, flicking idly through a gossip rag.
“Hey babe.” she called to him, not looking up from the magazine. “How was your
Dave opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't think of any suitable words. Olivia sat up at the
silence, her smile changing to concern. “Hey now, come here.”
Shuffling forward, Dave dropped his helmet and phone on the floor as he sat on the ground in front
of the couch, between her knees. His head flopped backward as her careful hands run through the
tangles, fingernails gently massaging his scalp. “Shhhh,” she whispered. “You
don't have to talk about it.”
Dave closed his eyes and relaxed into her touch, letting the stress of the day evaporate. This was
all he needed.
The wind was crisp against their jumpers, causing Olivia to shiver. She squeezed Dave's hand and
huddled a little closer to his armpit. “It's chilly here.”
“Mmm.” Dave mumbled back. “But beautiful, right?” He swept his free hand out
at the sprawling field full of crosses, angels and plain tombstones. “Each of those represents
a life. Each person lived. They have a story to tell. It blows my mind.”
“It is pretty amazing.” Olivia agreed. “I must admit, I've always wondered what
people will write on my tombstone. I hope it's something flattering. Like, `Here lies Olivia the
Dave huffed with laughter. “I'm sure we can arrange that.”
Poking him in the ribs, Olivia laughed. “You'd better!” he caught her hand and held them
together as he poked her back until she cried for him to stop. Once they'd both contained
themselves, Olivia looked at Dave thoughtfully. “What about you? What do you want on your
He looked out over the fields. “I don't care as long as I'm buried next to you. That's the
ultimate declaration of love. Being together in the afterlife.”
Olivia paused and nodded slowly, taking in his deep stare. “Hmm. You believe in weird shit,
you know that Mr Grohl?”
“Yeah,” Dave agreed. “But that's why you love me, Mrs Grohl.”
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The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.
Please see the Terms of Service for more information.