#### P A R T 6 ####

“I’m gonna die,” Dave moaned.

“You’re not gonna die,” she said, evenly.

She ran her hands soothingly over his back as another wave of nausea had him grip the edge of the toilet bowl hard, his body shaking as he emptied the last contents of his stomach into the loo. Her cool hand felt like heaven on his forehead.

“But I wanna,” he muttered exhaustedly. “O god…”

He flushed and leant his hot head on the cold porcelain, closing his eyes. Moments later he felt her wipe his face with a deliciously cold wet cloth. Then it was gone again, he heard the water spray in the sink, the padding of her naked feet on the tiles of the bathroom floor. Then he felt her warm body behind him, the cold cloth on his forehead and he was torn between being grateful that she was there for him and being embarrassed. Retching in the loo, not exactly how he wanted her to see him.

His head was throbbing, his stomach was aching from all the throwing up, he felt incredibly hot and cold at the same time, his limbs were hurting, most of all his back, his mind seemed to be swimming and he was tired, so tired.

“Go. Leave me dying here,” he whined.

“You’re not gonna die,” she said, rubbing his back gently.

“Don’t want you to see me like that,” he said miserably, resting his head on his arms.

She really pitied him. “Hon, I love you. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

He looked up at her, face pale, eyes feverish, almost unbelieving. She smiled and softly kissed him on the mouth.

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed,” she said, ignoring him and helping him up.

He groaned. His entire skin seemed to be hurting and he broke in a sweat, feeling very dizzy.

“My legs are all wonky,” he said.

He leaned heavily on her as she guided him back into their bedroom. He sat down on the bed and before he knew what was happening, she had pulled off his t-shirt, soaked with sweat, and helped him put on a clean one.

She helped him lie down and put the covers around him. The cool sheets had him shivering and he pulled the covers up more, almost over his head. At least his world wasn’t spinning anymore and his stomach didn’t rebel at the moment.

A moment later, his eyes shot open at the icy feeling on his feet and he yelped in surprise.

“Aaah!”

She looked at him apologetically. “Sorry, hon. It’s the only way to bring your fever down.”

She continued wrapping ice cold towels around his calves. He shuddered.

“You enjoy torturing me, huh?” he grunted.

“It’ll help,” she simply said, making sure she wrapped a dry towel around his feet and then pulling the covers over him again.

He was about to doze off, when he heard the sparkling of a drink right next to him. He turned his head and saw her standing there with a glass of Coke in her hand.

“I really don’t feel like that right now,” he complained.

“Come on, just two or three sips. It’ll help you calm the stomach down.”

“Coke?”

“Yes, the phosphoric acid helps your stomach balance out again.”

He blinked at her and hesitantly took the glass from her, his hand shaking slightly.

“Whatever.”

He took a few careful sips, then handed her back the glass and slipped back down, sleep rushing to him.

She gently brushed his burning forehead and went back to the bathroom, quietly cleaning up the mess he had made. When she slipped back into bed a few minutes later, he was fast asleep. Carefully, she turned on her side and drifted off to sleep again, too.

* * *

Dave woke, feeling knocked out, but his fever was gone and the stomach had settled, as well. He turned his head to look at her. She was sleeping beside him, flat on her stomach, face turned to him, her hand clutching the wet cloth she had used to cool his forehead.

He smiled. She had been there for him ever since the flu had started. When he had been sick in the studio, she had taken him home and tucked him into bed. She had seen to his every wish the entire afternoon, evening and night. She had sat beside him on the cold bathroom floor whilst he was puking his guts out. And she had kissed him on the mouth afterwards. If this wasn’t true love, he didn’t know what was.

He reached out to softly caress her cheek. She woke from the touch, startled. Her eyes focused on him and she had a concerned look on her face.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Like hell chewed me up and spit me out again,” he said.

Her hand reached out to feel his forehead. The temperature seemed normal again. She rolled onto her side and sat up.

“I’ll go make you some tea and whilst you drink it I’ll change the sheets, so you’ll have a nice clean bed.”

Before he could say anything, she had slid out of bed and went into the kitchen. He could hear her opening cabins and putting the kettle on. He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. He could see her moving in the kitchen. How she had to tiptoe to get the teabags out, the swing of her hips as she closed the drawer.
Minutes later, he watched her reappear in the bedroom and sit down next to him.

“Do you need help getting up?”

He shook his head no and slowly sat up. She handed him his sweat pants and as he stood up and slightly swayed, she placed his hands on her shoulders and helped him put them on. He pulled her to his chest as she came up and made her look up into his eyes.

“Thank you, luv,” he said quietly, bending his head to kiss her forehead.

They walked into the kitchen and she placed the mug with the tea in front of him, then disappeared in the bedroom.

He nipped on the tea and rested his heavy head onto his crossed arms on the table. The cool surface on the skin of his forearms sent shivers down his spine and he closed his eyes. He could hear her moving about in the bedroom. How she opened the windows wide to let the fresh morning air stream in, how she took the linen off. He could hear her opening the drawer to take out fresh bed linen and then the soft rustling as she put on the new sheets.

The door to the bathroom opened and the washing machine was opened and closed. The knobs were turned and he could hear the program start, pumping water into the machine. Then the noise dimmed down as she closed the bathroom door and walked back into the kitchen.

“Bed’s nice and ready,” she said, placing a hand on his head, letting her fingers run through his hair and down to his neck.

He moaned in delight.

“Baby, you’re all tense,” she said and let her hands wander to his neck and shoulders, where she started to massage him.

“Mmmmh, that’s so good…,” it sounded muffled from his head still buried in his arms.

“Come on, get up and go to bed and I’ll give you a full back massage.”

He stood up and followed her into the bedroom. His back really was hurting like hell. He stripped off the shirt and lay onto his stomach. He closed his eyes. How wonderfully clean the bed now smelt and felt. He breathed in deeply and sighed.

Dave heard her climbing onto the bed and felt her weight on his waist, as she straddled him. There was a soft snap and then he could hear her rub her hands, before he felt them warm and oily on his back. He sighed with bliss as her fingers expertly found their way to his tense muscles and kneaded the knots out.

“Yes, exactly there,” he mumbled into the sheets as she had found a particularly tense spot.

She loved letting her hands slide across his tattooed back, working out the knots down to his loins and back up again. She felt him relax more and more to her touch. She worked up to his shoulders again, paying special attention to his neck, then moving over and down his left arm. She picked up his hand and massaged it, too: his wonderful slender fingers, the thumb pad, tracing the lines etched in his hand. Then she moved to the other arm, giving it the same treatment. By the time she was finished, his moans had dimmed out and he was breathing regularly. He had fallen asleep.

She smiled and got off the bed, pulling the covers up over him and softly kissing his temple. Then, with a quick glance to the watch on the bedside table, she scurried into the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for work. If she hurried, she would only be one hour late.

* * *

Dave was waiting for her to come back home. He sat on the couch, staring out the window. He had been doing a lot of thinking today.

When he had woken up, he had found a note beside him, telling him she went to the studio and that she had made some more tea for him. She had called him twice from work to see how he was doing and asked if he needed anything.

He got up and walked through the flat. He looked at her stuff in the cabinet in the bathroom. Her make-up in the small bag by the toilet, her toothbrush, her hairbrush, her perfume sitting on the sink. Her dirty clothes mixed with his in the laundry basket.

He walked into their office, where she had printed out a picture her brother had emailed her. He picked it up. It was a snapshot taken during their last visit to her family, showing her brother and her: trousers rolled up to the knees as they were standing in the lake, building a dam for her nephews. He remembered that moment. She had teased her brother about his side of the dam and he had lunged at and dunked her. It was the day before her mother had died.

In the living room, he looked at her pictures. They had added some more to the wall. There was one of them dancing at Martin’s wedding. Another as they were sitting on the beach, her between his legs, the fresh scar on her belly standing out against her tanned skin. The snapshot she had taken of him as he was in the kitchen, baking biscuits with his little girl, flour everywhere. A picture he had taken of her as she was trying to play his guitar, the tip of her tongue between her lips, concentrating hard on the sheet in front of her and the instrument in her hands.

He let his fingers run over her DVDs. She had hid the romantic films behind the action movies, because he had teased her about some of them. He took out the CD that lay on top of her stack and put it into the player. It was a mix a friend of hers had sent her for her birthday and he smiled as he read the comments to each of the songs her friend had put in neat handwriting beside each title. He put the CD cover down and poured himself another cup of tea, listening to the music and losing himself in thoughts.

When he heard the key in the lock, his heart started to thud with excitement. Moments later, she appeared in the door, carrying a bag of groceries, closing the door and kicking her shoes off with a sigh. She looked up and saw him sitting there.

Dave slowly stood up and walked to her as she smiled. The look of fatigue was gone and was replaced by happiness.

“Hello, gorgeous,” she said. “How are–”

She didn’t get any further, for he had cupped her face in his hands and pulled her in for a hungry kiss, the bag between their bodies. He broke away after a moment, took her shopping out of her arms and placed it on the kitchen counter, taking her into his arms this time and kissing her deeply.

“–you,” she finished, blinking, as he pulled away to gaze at her.

“Much, much better,” he breathed, claiming her lips again.

Her heart constricted at the tenderness in his touch and she sighed into his kiss, happy to be home at last and that he was doing better.

He broke the kiss and helped her stow away the food.

“How was work?” he asked.

She waved her hand and opened the fridge to put the milk in. “Insane. Larry handed in notice, which means double the work load for me.”

“Larry? Why did he hand in notice?”

“No clue.” She put the salad in the fridge and closed the door. “Rumour has it he had a better offer from Motown records, but then that’s just gossip.”

He handed her the spaghetti. “Won’t he be replaced?”

She opened the cabin above her head. “Should be, but till they found someone new and trained them, they’ll probably have decided that I can do two people’s work.”

He turned her to him and hugged her close to him. He could feel the tension fall off her as she breathed him in deeply, cuddling into his arms.

“Mmh, thanks baby, that’s just what I needed.”

Dave placed a soft kiss on top of her head, drawing her even closer, enjoying her nearness.

After a long moment, she pulled away and looked up at him.

“And what did you do?”

“I did some thinking,” he said after a pensive pause.

She smiled. “Sounds serious.”

He cupped her face and kissed her. “It is.”

* * *

This time he had calculated in the “run that by me again”. Even an eventual “no”. He was prepared for every situation – at least he thought he was. Dave had given himself two weeks to think about this and think about it thoroughly. Even though he knew in his heart it was the right decision. He still wanted to be sure. And it was, after all, quite the step to take.

He just didn’t know when to do it or how. So when she was out of town for the day, accompanying Andrews to a meeting, he went shopping. He cooked a hot Thai curry, because he knew she loved it. He laid out the table nicely and lit candles in the dining area and the living room. He had prepared something special at the door and in the hallway and now was waiting for her, anxiously and a little nervous.

She got out of the elevator, breathing in the familiar air of the floor and closing her eyes for the briefest of moments. What a day. What a meeting. Sometimes she didn’t understand why she had to accompany Andrews and she suspected he just wanted her there to keep him company. No wonder. If all the meetings he had to attend were so boring…

She slid her hand in her pocket as she turned the corner in the hallway and stopped in her tracks as she saw a note tucked to the door. It said “Read me”.
She took the paper off and unfolded it.

“Luv. I know you had a busy day. Come in and kick off your shoes and let me spoil you.”

A smile on her lips, she unlocked the door, curious as to what he had done this time. She loved his surprises.

She entered the flat and locked the door behind her. She stepped out of her shoes and took off her coat, letting her handbag drop to the floor. It landed just beside something and she looked closer. Rose petals built an arrow that pointed to the living room. Her heart beat accelerated and she followed the arrow.

The room was lit only by candlelight, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Another folded sheet sat on the couch. She picked it up and read it.

“I have a special surprise for you.”

That was when the music set in. She knew this song, had heard it once before, but now it sounded different. It was Dave’s song for her, with a different arrangement. The piano was accompanied by some strings, a few guitar chords. She closed her eyes as his voice slid through the room, embracing and caressing her.

“Do you like it?” Dave breathed into her ear.

She nearly jumped at this. A warm shiver ran down her spine and her heart thudded faster as she felt his hands on her waist. He turned her around and she looked up at him. He was dressed in black, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and he looked ruggedly handsome, his eyes shining.

“It’s beautiful.”

She leant up to kiss him softly on his lips and he took her right hand in his, the other hand settling on the small of her back, pulling her to him as he slowly started to sway to the music with her. To feel his body move with hers to the rhythm was electrifying.

Then he softly started to sing along to his own words. A lump formed in her throat and her stomach lurched. The last time he had sung it with closed eyes. Now he was looking at her, right into her soul and her heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his gaze.

Everything around them vanished. There was just the two of them, dancing slowly to his song. As the last note drifted through the room, he bent his head to find her lips in a long, sensual kiss that had them both moaning.

When he pulled away, her breathing was shallow.

“What a wonderful surprise! Thank you,” she said.

He smiled at her tenderly. “Oh, that wasn’t all. I take it you’re hungry?”

She nodded and he led her to the dining table. She took in the candles: he had formed a heart with them. He even had folded the napkins nicely. Blinking away tears, she squeezed his hand, utterly moved.

“So much effort, Dave… Thank you.”

He kissed her temple, pleased that she had noticed. “Come on, sit down.”

He pulled out the chair for her and she sat down. He disappeared in the kitchen and moments later returned with two plates.

“Mmh, you made Thai curry!” she said, her mouth watering.

She quickly kissed him on the lips. “Thank you, baby.“

“You‘re welcome,“ he said, feeling a little fluttery in his stomach as he watched her eat.

They both ate in silence. Her, because she was starved, him, because he was getting nervous. She got up to take the empty plates into the kitchen and he followed her, helping her load the dishwasher and then taking her hand in his, pulling her into the living room.

They sat down on the couch and he was facing her, letting his fingers run up her legs she had rested across his lap, up her hip, her side and further up to caress her face. He took in every detail as if he wanted to imprint this picture forever into his memory. He leaned in, kissing from her shoulder up her neck, taking his sweet time.

His tenderness moved her, but something was bothering him, she could feel it.

She slightly pushed him away and sought his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He studied her face, pensively, letting his thumb caress her lower lip.

“Nothing’s wrong, luv.”

“Then why are you so tense? Cos you seem tense. Did you have a bad day?” she persisted.

He shook his head. Perhaps now was the time… “I’m alright. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

She nodded. “Alright. Is it something good or bad?”

“Good,” he replied immediately, adding, “at least I hope so.”

Dave breathed in. He wanted her to understand and he wasn’t so sure whether he’d find the right words. “You know I love you, luv. I only hope you know just how deeply. We survived the aftermath of my previous marriages, some of them still going on. We survived the tour, the press, the loss of our baby, and so much more. Little quarrels, big arguments, everything. You are not afraid to dive with me into the depths of my mind’s well, when my demons haunt me. And god knows it’s a scary place. I want you in my life until the very last day. I want you in my life when I grow a belly and lose some hair and I can see the wrinkles being etched into your face and your hair turn white, day by day. I want you to be my partner for life.”

He intertwined their fingers, his eyes burning into hers. “You see… Every time I got married, something happened that destroyed it all. We don’t need a paper to show you’re my girl, it’s something my heart knows and the people around us can see it, too. We belong together. I wish I could show you just how you fill my heart, how strong the bond between us makes me feel, how I need you. How you’re the melody to my lyrics.”

He saw tears shining in her eyes, his thumbs gently rubbing the back of her hands. “Luv, do you want to live with me in non-marital cohabitation and be my girl until we die?”

The tears now rolled down her face, dropping onto their joined hands. His heart thudded faster as he waited for her answer with bated breath.

“Yes, Dave,” she said, her voice thick with emotion, her eyes shining with love. “I want to be your girl till we die.”

A small smile started on his lips, reaching his eyes with full blast. "I'm very glad to hear that."

He pulled her into his arms, happy, relieved, elated, kissing her slowly, sensually, exploring every crevice of her mouth as if it were the first time. And it felt like it was, both their senses on overload, their hearts raw at what had just happened.

* * *

GAHAN TO TIE THE KNOT AGAIN?

New York – Yesterday afternoon, Dave Gahan, singer of the band Depeche Mode, was spotted with his girlfriend of two years going into Prince Goldsmith in Park Avenue – showing a great interest in engagement rings. Why not pick one at Tiffany’s? The singer is known for his eccentric taste. Will Gahan tie the knot for a fourth time? Three marriages have failed so far, will he dare entering holy matrimony yet again? Or is it just a PR stunt for his new solo album which will be released in a few weeks? We will keep at it.



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