Be My Valentine
Posted by DiF on Sunday, August 14, 2011 Under: Valentine's
Title: Be My Valentine
Characters: Robert Plant, Summer Dylan
Word Count: 1506
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers/Summary: Robert is feeling lonely and wandering about LA, purposelessly. February 1985. Canon. Lots of spoilers.
Strolling down the back streets of LA, unconsciously making his way towards Laurel Canyon, Robert sighed. Days spent in that city were nothing like they used to be. Just as many recognized him from his Led Zeppelin days, even though his attire and hairstyle was different, but it was not the same. He understood that cities changed, especially large ones like LA, but that really was not what was on his mind as he strolled down the street on that sun-filled morning. He was alone, completely and utterly alone. His marriage was long over, officially so four years before. He had attempted to date, had flings, but his heart was never in it and the women knew it.
He was still unrepentantly in love with Summer, whom he had not even seen in years since recording the Honeydrippers album with Jimmy. His heart still pined for her, his soul still wept for her. But she made her choice long ago, he could not change that, no matter how much he wanted to. He supposed he was destined to live out the rest of his life, lonely and alone.
Sighing, Robert waited for a car to pass before trotting across the street. As he had no destination in mind, it mattered little which side of the street he was on. Each was just as lonely as the other was. He did not think he could pretend to be happy that day at all.
Turning a corner, Robert quickly stopped as a soccer ball rolled out from under a bush. His toe reached out to keep it from rolling into the street. A moment later, a young boy with dark, nearly black wavy hair jumped through the bush. His blue eyes met Robert’s and he smiled shyly. Robert’s heart stopped. He knew those eyes, that smile. It could not be…
“Thanks, mister,” the young boy said, picking up his soccer ball.
“You better be more careful. You wouldn’t want to scare your mum,” Robert responded.
The boy shrugged, “She’s busy now anyways.”
Not liking something about that statement, he said, “Is she around? I think I should tell her that her son is playing too close to the street.”
He shrugged again, “In the studio.”
Letting the boy led him around the bushes, Robert looked up at the building. His eyes flicked to the small sign over the door and he smirked. The boy pulled open the industrial glass door, muttering that his mother was in the first studio and went to sit in the waiting room, bouncing his soccer ball until the receptionist glared at him.
Approaching the first studio, Robert looked through the plate glass window. A smile slowly crawled across his face as he watched the pretty blond woman lean towards the microphone. He could not hear a thing, as he had not yet entered into the sound booth, but he was certain it was the most beautiful sound in the world. Waiting until she shook her head and stepped back from the device, Robert opened the door and stepped into the sound booth. He sank into a chair next to the producer, who looked up and froze.
“Do you mind?” he asked softly.
The man shook his head slowly before turning his attention back to the woman in the studio. Sinking into a chair in the very back of the booth, certain she had not yet seen him, Robert smiled as she went over her vocals again. As she struggled with one part, he leaned forward. Stealthily moving to the mixing table, he waited for her to finish, his finger poised above the intercom button.
Pressing down on it, Robert spoke, “You’re not letting your diaphragm do the work. You’re forcing the note too much.”
Her bright blue eyes darted to his, her lips parting in shock. She stared for a blank moment before her lips curved into a smile. Removing the headphones from her head, she slipped them on the hook and hurried to the sound room door. Stepping back from the soundboard, Robert grinned.
“Hello, Summer.”
Squatting in front of her son, Summer straightened his collar and touched his nose, “You look so handsome, Jimmy.”
“Mom!” he rolled his eyes.
Standing, she smoothed her snug micro-dress back down, “I know you don’t remember Robert much, but he used to be your father’s best friend.”
The young boy scowled, folding his arms over his chest, “I don’t want to go.”
“Stop your pouting. We’re going to dinner with him,” she stated before turning away.
“But Mom!” he protested.
Summer turned back around, her blue eyes meeting his, “That is enough, James Patrick. Behave yourself.”
Before the young boy could say anything else, the bell rang. Giving him one last look, Summer hurried to the front door and glanced through the peephole. Seeing a distorted image of Robert, she smiled and quickly opened the door. He quickly held out a bouquet of red tulips. Grinning even more, she thanked him, accepted the bouquet, and turned to find a vase for the flowers, letting Robert follow her into the rented house. He lingered in the living room as she disappeared into the kitchen, his eyes flicking to the young boy sitting on the couch with his arms crossed over his chest.
“So you like soccer?” Robert asked, sitting awkwardly in a chair near the sofa.
“I guess,” the boy responded.
“I used to play on a team. What position do you play?”
Jimmy shrugged.
“Do you go to school here? What’s your favorite subject?”
The boy shrugged again.
“You know at one point, your dad was going to be a chemist or a biologist or something,” he stated casually.
“I hate my dad.”
Robert’s eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. Instead, his eyes went to the kitchen as Summer stepped out. Though she wore a fashionable, tight off-the-shoulder dress, her hair curled softly, naturally about her shoulders. Her features were not caked with heavy makeup, only a little shine on her lips and mascara on her eyelashes. It made him smile that such a natural beauty stood before him.
“All ready?” he asked.
She nodded, glancing at her son, “Come on, Jamie. Let’s go.”
With a heavy sigh, the boy got to his feet, heading over to his mother. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she guided him out of the house, pausing to lock the door behind Robert. Summer fastened the seatbelt about her son’s lap and kissed his forehead before slipping into the front passenger seat. Robert attempted to engage the young boy in conversation once more, but he answered with shrugs and single words, before staring out the window. Summer smiled crookedly, reaching across the car to squeeze Robert’s hand.
“He’s a lot like his father, isn’t he?” Robert commented.
Summer smirked, “When he gets broody, yes. I can’t imagine how bad it will get when he’s older. The boy is only seven now.”
He chuckled, “Maybe get him a guitar?”
“Tried that. He wants nothing to do with music right now,” she answered. “He seems pretty into soccer though. Unfortunately that’s hard to cater to when I’m recording.”
“Why isn’t he in school?” Robert asked, turning into a parking lot.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Summer answered quickly.
“…all right,” he responded, looking around for a parking space. “So recording is going well?”
“You heard how it was going today,” she teased, reaching for her seat belt. “But it was only the first day of vocals.”
“Well if you need any help…”
Summer glanced at him briefly and got out of the car. Standing next to it, she waited for Jimmy to get out and close his door before looking up at the restaurant. With a soft chuckle, she headed up to the entrance, her hand on Jamie’s shoulder, Robert’s hand on the small of her back. They were escorted to a table overlooking the ocean and the young boy instantly began to fidget in his chair. With a smirk, Summer pulled a small book out of her purse and handed it over to Jamie. Though he didn’t thank her, he did smile slightly – the first Robert had ever seen from the boy – and focused on reading.
Orders were quickly placed and slowly Robert’s hand reached across the table for Summer. She hesitated for only a moment before intertwining her fingers with his. His eyes instantly darted down, feeling a ring upon her pinkie finger. He quickly grinned.
“You still have it,” he muttered.
Summer glanced down where he stared, “Huh. I wondered why I still had that old ring.”
His eyes flashed to hers and he chuckled, “Such a travesty.”
“Definitely,” she winked. “So, Robert, why are you in LA?”
“Looking for a valentine,” he responded.
“Oh really now?”
His thumb rubbed the back of her hand, “Will you be mine?”
She glanced at her son briefly, who did not even look up from his book, before replying, “Yes, Robert. I would love to be your valentine.”
Characters: Robert Plant, Summer Dylan
Word Count: 1506
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers/Summary: Robert is feeling lonely and wandering about LA, purposelessly. February 1985. Canon. Lots of spoilers.
Strolling down the back streets of LA, unconsciously making his way towards Laurel Canyon, Robert sighed. Days spent in that city were nothing like they used to be. Just as many recognized him from his Led Zeppelin days, even though his attire and hairstyle was different, but it was not the same. He understood that cities changed, especially large ones like LA, but that really was not what was on his mind as he strolled down the street on that sun-filled morning. He was alone, completely and utterly alone. His marriage was long over, officially so four years before. He had attempted to date, had flings, but his heart was never in it and the women knew it.
He was still unrepentantly in love with Summer, whom he had not even seen in years since recording the Honeydrippers album with Jimmy. His heart still pined for her, his soul still wept for her. But she made her choice long ago, he could not change that, no matter how much he wanted to. He supposed he was destined to live out the rest of his life, lonely and alone.
Sighing, Robert waited for a car to pass before trotting across the street. As he had no destination in mind, it mattered little which side of the street he was on. Each was just as lonely as the other was. He did not think he could pretend to be happy that day at all.
Turning a corner, Robert quickly stopped as a soccer ball rolled out from under a bush. His toe reached out to keep it from rolling into the street. A moment later, a young boy with dark, nearly black wavy hair jumped through the bush. His blue eyes met Robert’s and he smiled shyly. Robert’s heart stopped. He knew those eyes, that smile. It could not be…
“Thanks, mister,” the young boy said, picking up his soccer ball.
“You better be more careful. You wouldn’t want to scare your mum,” Robert responded.
The boy shrugged, “She’s busy now anyways.”
Not liking something about that statement, he said, “Is she around? I think I should tell her that her son is playing too close to the street.”
He shrugged again, “In the studio.”
Letting the boy led him around the bushes, Robert looked up at the building. His eyes flicked to the small sign over the door and he smirked. The boy pulled open the industrial glass door, muttering that his mother was in the first studio and went to sit in the waiting room, bouncing his soccer ball until the receptionist glared at him.
Approaching the first studio, Robert looked through the plate glass window. A smile slowly crawled across his face as he watched the pretty blond woman lean towards the microphone. He could not hear a thing, as he had not yet entered into the sound booth, but he was certain it was the most beautiful sound in the world. Waiting until she shook her head and stepped back from the device, Robert opened the door and stepped into the sound booth. He sank into a chair next to the producer, who looked up and froze.
“Do you mind?” he asked softly.
The man shook his head slowly before turning his attention back to the woman in the studio. Sinking into a chair in the very back of the booth, certain she had not yet seen him, Robert smiled as she went over her vocals again. As she struggled with one part, he leaned forward. Stealthily moving to the mixing table, he waited for her to finish, his finger poised above the intercom button.
Pressing down on it, Robert spoke, “You’re not letting your diaphragm do the work. You’re forcing the note too much.”
Her bright blue eyes darted to his, her lips parting in shock. She stared for a blank moment before her lips curved into a smile. Removing the headphones from her head, she slipped them on the hook and hurried to the sound room door. Stepping back from the soundboard, Robert grinned.
“Hello, Summer.”
Squatting in front of her son, Summer straightened his collar and touched his nose, “You look so handsome, Jimmy.”
“Mom!” he rolled his eyes.
Standing, she smoothed her snug micro-dress back down, “I know you don’t remember Robert much, but he used to be your father’s best friend.”
The young boy scowled, folding his arms over his chest, “I don’t want to go.”
“Stop your pouting. We’re going to dinner with him,” she stated before turning away.
“But Mom!” he protested.
Summer turned back around, her blue eyes meeting his, “That is enough, James Patrick. Behave yourself.”
Before the young boy could say anything else, the bell rang. Giving him one last look, Summer hurried to the front door and glanced through the peephole. Seeing a distorted image of Robert, she smiled and quickly opened the door. He quickly held out a bouquet of red tulips. Grinning even more, she thanked him, accepted the bouquet, and turned to find a vase for the flowers, letting Robert follow her into the rented house. He lingered in the living room as she disappeared into the kitchen, his eyes flicking to the young boy sitting on the couch with his arms crossed over his chest.
“So you like soccer?” Robert asked, sitting awkwardly in a chair near the sofa.
“I guess,” the boy responded.
“I used to play on a team. What position do you play?”
Jimmy shrugged.
“Do you go to school here? What’s your favorite subject?”
The boy shrugged again.
“You know at one point, your dad was going to be a chemist or a biologist or something,” he stated casually.
“I hate my dad.”
Robert’s eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. Instead, his eyes went to the kitchen as Summer stepped out. Though she wore a fashionable, tight off-the-shoulder dress, her hair curled softly, naturally about her shoulders. Her features were not caked with heavy makeup, only a little shine on her lips and mascara on her eyelashes. It made him smile that such a natural beauty stood before him.
“All ready?” he asked.
She nodded, glancing at her son, “Come on, Jamie. Let’s go.”
With a heavy sigh, the boy got to his feet, heading over to his mother. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she guided him out of the house, pausing to lock the door behind Robert. Summer fastened the seatbelt about her son’s lap and kissed his forehead before slipping into the front passenger seat. Robert attempted to engage the young boy in conversation once more, but he answered with shrugs and single words, before staring out the window. Summer smiled crookedly, reaching across the car to squeeze Robert’s hand.
“He’s a lot like his father, isn’t he?” Robert commented.
Summer smirked, “When he gets broody, yes. I can’t imagine how bad it will get when he’s older. The boy is only seven now.”
He chuckled, “Maybe get him a guitar?”
“Tried that. He wants nothing to do with music right now,” she answered. “He seems pretty into soccer though. Unfortunately that’s hard to cater to when I’m recording.”
“Why isn’t he in school?” Robert asked, turning into a parking lot.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Summer answered quickly.
“…all right,” he responded, looking around for a parking space. “So recording is going well?”
“You heard how it was going today,” she teased, reaching for her seat belt. “But it was only the first day of vocals.”
“Well if you need any help…”
Summer glanced at him briefly and got out of the car. Standing next to it, she waited for Jimmy to get out and close his door before looking up at the restaurant. With a soft chuckle, she headed up to the entrance, her hand on Jamie’s shoulder, Robert’s hand on the small of her back. They were escorted to a table overlooking the ocean and the young boy instantly began to fidget in his chair. With a smirk, Summer pulled a small book out of her purse and handed it over to Jamie. Though he didn’t thank her, he did smile slightly – the first Robert had ever seen from the boy – and focused on reading.
Orders were quickly placed and slowly Robert’s hand reached across the table for Summer. She hesitated for only a moment before intertwining her fingers with his. His eyes instantly darted down, feeling a ring upon her pinkie finger. He quickly grinned.
“You still have it,” he muttered.
Summer glanced down where he stared, “Huh. I wondered why I still had that old ring.”
His eyes flashed to hers and he chuckled, “Such a travesty.”
“Definitely,” she winked. “So, Robert, why are you in LA?”
“Looking for a valentine,” he responded.
“Oh really now?”
His thumb rubbed the back of her hand, “Will you be mine?”
She glanced at her son briefly, who did not even look up from his book, before replying, “Yes, Robert. I would love to be your valentine.”
In : Valentine's
Tags: valentine's 1985
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