What I Really Meant To Say 1
Sep. 2nd, 2010 01:06 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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tr_ficTitle: What I Really Meant To Say, Part 1
Characters: Michael Owen/OFC
Rating: PG-13
Words: this part: 1,402
A/N: This songfic is based on one of my favorite songs in the history of ever: What I Really Meant To Say by Cyndi Thomson.
It took me by surprise when I saw you standing there
Close enough to touch, breathing the same air
You asked me how I’d been
I guess that’s when I smiled and said ‘just fine’
The light flooded in through the huge glass windows of the Paris-Charles de Gaulle Airport. It was almost noon and the airport was busy and crowded, though if it was ever anything less it really would have surprised him. He’d been through many airports in his life and Paris was always a busy one.
The squad was on its way back from playing Saint Germain. They were all in good spirits because it had been an easy three to zero defeat. He walked towards the back because even though he had been on the team roster for over a year now, he still hadn’t become welcome with open arms, though he still wasn’t sure he wanted to be.
Around them people were taking photos and standing together in groups as they walked past. As if they were Gods descending from the heavens, his mind prompted and he had to smile a little at his own humor. They had their own gate booked to themselves but they had to walk through part of the airport to get to it. Michael didn’t mind; he was fairly laid back about things these days.
He didn’t realize just how far he had lagged behind till more and more people started to get between him and the tail end of the United entourage. He moved forward at a quicker pace to get caught up and ended up catching the edge of a young lady’s arm with his. He opened his mouth and thought quickly of the correct apology in French when his words faded in his mouth.
“Pardon monsieur,” the young woman started but stopped just like he had. Recognition flickered across both their faces as well as surprise.
She was the first to recover and straightened her posture quickly. “Michael Owen, long time no see.”
At the sound of her voice, a thousand memories, dreams, wishes, and hopes filled his senses and he tried to push them all back long enough so that he could answer her. Her charm hadn’t faded and she was more beautiful than ever. He had to remind himself not to stare.
“Yeah, yeah I guess it has been.” He offered a smile but she didn’t return it. He guessed she was still mad at him for leaving and going to Spain. “How have you been Alicia?”
She shrugged off his question. “Fine.” Behind them, the speaker announcement system called the next round of flights leaving and she looked up at the gate numbers. “I have to go. Bye Owen.”
Michael opened his mouth to speak but something stopped him. He watched her get lost in the crowd and he felt something in his gut twist. He closed his mouth while his eyes followed her back as she left. She didn’t look any different, the years apart had been very good to her.
He rubbed the back of his neck and started towards the gate where the plane back to Manchester was waiting. He spared another look over his shoulder and saw her hand over her boarding pass to the attendant. His eyes looked up and saw that she was getting on a flight to London. He made a mental note of it before pushing his way through the crowd.
It had been years since he had last seen or heard from her, of course she had moved on. It had been a bad ending at that, no wonder she really didn’t want to talk to him. He guessed he couldn’t blame her for that, he thought. He tried to forget about it, keep walking as if nothing had happened but that twist in his stomach hadn’t faded nor had his heart recovered a normal rhythm. He hadn’t realized that he had missed her this much until he saw her just now.
As he sat his bag down on the corner chair of the gate and sat down next to Scholes, he wondered how long it would take before she left his head long enough for him to think straight.
Alicia looked out the window of the plane at the grounds crew preparing the plane for its departure. She wanted to smack herself for being stupid and making such a huge mistake. How many chances was she expecting to run into an old boyfriend? Into the one that she still wanted more than anybody else?
Just ‘fine’? Fine? She knew that she had been so far off ‘fine’ that it wasn’t even on the map’s map.
The more cynical part of her mind scolded her quickly. What was she supposed to have said, that she missed him so much she cried? That she held onto her pillow tightly at night wishing it was him? That she watched a team she hated only so she could maybe see him play?
No, she wasn’t pathetic enough to tell him outright to his face. Besides, it had been over seven years. Surely he had replaced her by now.
Alicia tried to get over it, forget that she had seen him, and she forced herself to concentrate as the plane began to taxi to the runway.
He had aged well and he was still as handsome as ever, if not more. His smile hadn’t changed but the lines that formed around his eyes when he had were new. She also guessed the forehead wrinkles she had seen were new as well. She swallowed stiffly and tried not to think about it. There really was no point in crying over him again, she told herself and shook her head to clear it.
Michael Owen was part of the past and he was going to stay there.
She hoped.
Michael walked into his house a half hour outside of Manchester and sighed at the quiet. The first thing he did after he set his bag down on the floor was walk over to the large stereo system and turn the switch so that music filled the house. It was a small fix but he needed something on to end the silence.
He went over to the table in the hall and checked the mail that his housekeeper had left for him. He picked up the stack of bills and dropped his keys in the bowl before he toed his shoes off. He left the bills on the table and decided that some dinner would be good and then maybe early to bed.
He had almost convinced himself that his plan would work till he opened the refrigerator and saw nothing that looked appetizing.
How long was he going to pretend he hadn’t seen her? How long was he going to act like everything was as he had woken up to that morning? How many more times did he want to have to go to bed early so that he could only see her literally in his dreams?
Michael shut the door to the fridge and moved forward to rest his head against the stainless steal surface. He lifted his head back once and let it fall forward so that it hit the steal. He didn’t want this to be as bad as the last time but how could it not be? He was still in love with her, he hadn’t ever stopped.
His mind summoned the one lead he had to go on: London.
It was a fool’s errand, but he needed to talk with her.
Michael turned and started for his phone. He had a pretty good idea of whom she had been hanging out with, she was a Chelsea fan after all, and he scrolled through the numbers until he stopped on one name.
He looked at it for a moment before he hit the send key and brought the phone to his ear. He looked outside at the dark Manchester sky and waited for his England teammate to pick up.
In a dark lounge in London, a man’s phone went off. He gave a pleasant smile to the woman he’d been talking to before he excused himself to answer the call. He kept his eyes on her beautiful figure while he brought the phone up.
He was going to make this a short call with Owen and then he would get back to charming the lovely lady into his bed for the night.
“Yes, Owen?”
From the other end of the line, he heard a heavy sigh before the Northerner spoke.
“I need a favor.”
Characters: Michael Owen/OFC
Rating: PG-13
Words: this part: 1,402
A/N: This songfic is based on one of my favorite songs in the history of ever: What I Really Meant To Say by Cyndi Thomson.
It took me by surprise when I saw you standing there
Close enough to touch, breathing the same air
You asked me how I’d been
I guess that’s when I smiled and said ‘just fine’
The light flooded in through the huge glass windows of the Paris-Charles de Gaulle Airport. It was almost noon and the airport was busy and crowded, though if it was ever anything less it really would have surprised him. He’d been through many airports in his life and Paris was always a busy one.
The squad was on its way back from playing Saint Germain. They were all in good spirits because it had been an easy three to zero defeat. He walked towards the back because even though he had been on the team roster for over a year now, he still hadn’t become welcome with open arms, though he still wasn’t sure he wanted to be.
Around them people were taking photos and standing together in groups as they walked past. As if they were Gods descending from the heavens, his mind prompted and he had to smile a little at his own humor. They had their own gate booked to themselves but they had to walk through part of the airport to get to it. Michael didn’t mind; he was fairly laid back about things these days.
He didn’t realize just how far he had lagged behind till more and more people started to get between him and the tail end of the United entourage. He moved forward at a quicker pace to get caught up and ended up catching the edge of a young lady’s arm with his. He opened his mouth and thought quickly of the correct apology in French when his words faded in his mouth.
“Pardon monsieur,” the young woman started but stopped just like he had. Recognition flickered across both their faces as well as surprise.
She was the first to recover and straightened her posture quickly. “Michael Owen, long time no see.”
At the sound of her voice, a thousand memories, dreams, wishes, and hopes filled his senses and he tried to push them all back long enough so that he could answer her. Her charm hadn’t faded and she was more beautiful than ever. He had to remind himself not to stare.
“Yeah, yeah I guess it has been.” He offered a smile but she didn’t return it. He guessed she was still mad at him for leaving and going to Spain. “How have you been Alicia?”
She shrugged off his question. “Fine.” Behind them, the speaker announcement system called the next round of flights leaving and she looked up at the gate numbers. “I have to go. Bye Owen.”
Michael opened his mouth to speak but something stopped him. He watched her get lost in the crowd and he felt something in his gut twist. He closed his mouth while his eyes followed her back as she left. She didn’t look any different, the years apart had been very good to her.
He rubbed the back of his neck and started towards the gate where the plane back to Manchester was waiting. He spared another look over his shoulder and saw her hand over her boarding pass to the attendant. His eyes looked up and saw that she was getting on a flight to London. He made a mental note of it before pushing his way through the crowd.
It had been years since he had last seen or heard from her, of course she had moved on. It had been a bad ending at that, no wonder she really didn’t want to talk to him. He guessed he couldn’t blame her for that, he thought. He tried to forget about it, keep walking as if nothing had happened but that twist in his stomach hadn’t faded nor had his heart recovered a normal rhythm. He hadn’t realized that he had missed her this much until he saw her just now.
As he sat his bag down on the corner chair of the gate and sat down next to Scholes, he wondered how long it would take before she left his head long enough for him to think straight.
Alicia looked out the window of the plane at the grounds crew preparing the plane for its departure. She wanted to smack herself for being stupid and making such a huge mistake. How many chances was she expecting to run into an old boyfriend? Into the one that she still wanted more than anybody else?
Just ‘fine’? Fine? She knew that she had been so far off ‘fine’ that it wasn’t even on the map’s map.
The more cynical part of her mind scolded her quickly. What was she supposed to have said, that she missed him so much she cried? That she held onto her pillow tightly at night wishing it was him? That she watched a team she hated only so she could maybe see him play?
No, she wasn’t pathetic enough to tell him outright to his face. Besides, it had been over seven years. Surely he had replaced her by now.
Alicia tried to get over it, forget that she had seen him, and she forced herself to concentrate as the plane began to taxi to the runway.
He had aged well and he was still as handsome as ever, if not more. His smile hadn’t changed but the lines that formed around his eyes when he had were new. She also guessed the forehead wrinkles she had seen were new as well. She swallowed stiffly and tried not to think about it. There really was no point in crying over him again, she told herself and shook her head to clear it.
Michael Owen was part of the past and he was going to stay there.
She hoped.
Michael walked into his house a half hour outside of Manchester and sighed at the quiet. The first thing he did after he set his bag down on the floor was walk over to the large stereo system and turn the switch so that music filled the house. It was a small fix but he needed something on to end the silence.
He went over to the table in the hall and checked the mail that his housekeeper had left for him. He picked up the stack of bills and dropped his keys in the bowl before he toed his shoes off. He left the bills on the table and decided that some dinner would be good and then maybe early to bed.
He had almost convinced himself that his plan would work till he opened the refrigerator and saw nothing that looked appetizing.
How long was he going to pretend he hadn’t seen her? How long was he going to act like everything was as he had woken up to that morning? How many more times did he want to have to go to bed early so that he could only see her literally in his dreams?
Michael shut the door to the fridge and moved forward to rest his head against the stainless steal surface. He lifted his head back once and let it fall forward so that it hit the steal. He didn’t want this to be as bad as the last time but how could it not be? He was still in love with her, he hadn’t ever stopped.
His mind summoned the one lead he had to go on: London.
It was a fool’s errand, but he needed to talk with her.
Michael turned and started for his phone. He had a pretty good idea of whom she had been hanging out with, she was a Chelsea fan after all, and he scrolled through the numbers until he stopped on one name.
He looked at it for a moment before he hit the send key and brought the phone to his ear. He looked outside at the dark Manchester sky and waited for his England teammate to pick up.
In a dark lounge in London, a man’s phone went off. He gave a pleasant smile to the woman he’d been talking to before he excused himself to answer the call. He kept his eyes on her beautiful figure while he brought the phone up.
He was going to make this a short call with Owen and then he would get back to charming the lovely lady into his bed for the night.
“Yes, Owen?”
From the other end of the line, he heard a heavy sigh before the Northerner spoke.
“I need a favor.”
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