janey_not-a-fan

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NOT A FAN BUT... by Janey

Colette was wondering why the hell she had agreed to queue up for four hours on behalf of her friend Cassie. She was cold and very wet, with her clothes sticking to her and her hair now a wet, lank mess. At least she had had the wisdom to use waterproof mascara so that she didn’t have black eyes. The Manic Street Preachers had a lot to answer for. In fact right now she didn’t know who she was most angry with – them for running late or her friend, who was currently in America working, for asking her to take some of her c.d., video and dvd sleeves in the hope that the guys would sign them for her.

At least she was actually at the door to the record store now, so she had moved down quite a bit. It was just typical that on what was supposed to be a hot, bright sunny day in York turned out to be dull, grey and incredibly wet. Rather foolishly Colette had taken notice of the weather forecast and was wearing a skimpy lemon t-shirt, open toed sandals and a pair of cream ľ length cotton trousers. Now her nipples were sticking out so far that she could poke someone’s eyes out with them, and her trousers were so transparent that her white thong was evident to all and sundry.

Colette was growing weary of all the smart-asses that were whistling and making lewd remarks, and thinking that they were being original about it. Still at least she had had the good sense to put the covers in a couple of plastic bags to protect them. ‘If only I’d brought something to protect myself from this bloody weather,’ she thought to herself, as yet another wag made a feeble joke about her attire. ‘Oh go boil your fucking head, smart ass!’ she spat as she gave a 2-fingered salute.

“Was it something I said?” said a soft Welsh voice. It was James and Colette was less than impressed.
“Erm… no, sorry. I’m just sick and fed up of all the fucking sarcastic and supposedly amusing comments from himbo’s, and all because I’ve got soaking wet through, on behalf of a friend, just so that you can sign these bloody things!”
“Do you smoke?”
“What?” Colette spluttered. “Yes. I do.”
“Fine, come and have a cigarette with me, and then you can come in and we’ll get you a new t-shirt and I’ll get someone to get you some dry trousers and erm…things.”
Colette tried to protest but had no chance as James guided her forcefully into an anteroom for a smoke. Inside the room were a few brand new Manic t-shirts. James picked one out, opened the cellophane and gave her it to wear.
“I won’t look, don’t worry,” he smirked as he turned his back to her. He could hear her as she took off the wet top and then put on the fresh one that he had given her.
“Ok, you’re safe to turn around now,” she said.
“Now that’s better,” smiled James as he handed her a cigarette and then lit it for her, before doing the same for himself. “So, if your friend is the fan, how come you’re here and they aren’t?”
“She’s in America working,” Colette sighed as she exhaled the smoke. “She wanted me to do this as a birthday present for her, and like the fool that I am I agreed.”
“All I can say is that you must be a very good friend to do this then. Above and beyond the call of duty I’d say.” James laughed softly and his eyes sparkled as the smile spread across his face.
“I guess,” she answered simply, somewhat taken aback by his cute smile and expressive, sexy eyes. “But she’d do the same for me.”
“Oh, and what bands and singers do like then?”
“Nicky’s favourites,” Colette quipped, and smiled even broader as a bemused look spread across James’ face. “R.E.M and Queen!”
“Oh hell. Just don’t mention that to Wire ‘cos he’s in a devilish mood today and I’m sure you’d set him off.”
Despite herself, Colette warmed to James as they enjoyed their cigarettes and chatted. He had something about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but he made her feel at ease and seemed to genuinely be taking an interest in her.
As they left the anteroom, James called a woman over. “Rhian,” he said. “This is…actually what is your name?”
Rhian laughed. “Nice work James.”
“Colette.”
“Could you go and get her some fresh trousers and erm, underwear? She’s soaked through as you can see, and she isn’t even a fan. She’s doing a good deed for a friend.”
“Sure thing. You want the same sort of stuff?”
“Really you don’t have to go to all this trouble,” interjected Colette but she then saw the way James was glaring at her and thought better of it and said, “ I’m sure that whatever you can get will be fine. Thank you.”
“We can’t have you catching pneumonia can we?” Rhian smiled warmly. The two women briefly discussed the size that Colette would need, and Rhian went off to buy her some clothes.
“Now you,” said James authoritatively, “sit down there. We’ll sign your stuff and give you some goodies after we’ve finished all the others ok? Should be about another ľ of an hour or so. An hour tops.”

A couple of hours later Colette found herself back at the guys hotel having drinks with them and also Rhian, Rachel and Martin. Clara and Mathilda were both having a lot of fun in the crčche. The clothes Rhian had bought for her, (no doubt on James’ credit card) fitted perfectly, and Rhian had also taken Colette to her hotel room so that she could sort out her hair and re-do her make-up. They were all being so nice to her and for that she was grateful.
When she said it was time for her to leave, James walked her to the hotel foyer to catch a cab and gave her his phone numbers. “I hope you’ll call me.”
“Yeah, I’ll let you know how made up Cassie is.”
“I don’t mean just then. I’d love for you to call me so we can go for a drink together.” James held her hand as he spoke. “We’re here until Sunday.”
Colette climbed in to the next taxi and waved goodbye as it pulled away. When she was a safe distance from the hotel and certain that James couldn’t see her, she took out the paper with his telephone numbers on, and smiled to herself.

When Colette got home from work the following day, she espied the paper on the coffee table, poking out from beneath a magazine and decided to be brave and call James. To her surprise he remembered her and they arranged to meet in a wine bar, a few hours later.

As Colette walked in she saw James sat on his own at a table right in the back corner. He was wearing dark trousers, a pale blue shirt and a dark jacket, and boy did he look handsome! James noticed her and smiled and waved warmly.
“Hey, you look lovely,” he said after kissing her on both cheeks. “Bang on time too, I hope you don’t mind but I got you red wine.”
“That’s fine, thanks.” Colette sat down and brushed away some of her long dark brown hair which had fallen in front of her eyes. She wore dark trousers, and a knitted short sleeved lilac top.
“I’m glad you called,” said James hesitantly. “I really wasn’t sure whether or not you would.”
“Neither was I until I got in from work, then I saw the edge of the paper and thought ‘why not’, so I did.”
James laughed warmly. “Well I’m pleased that you did, and it’s good that you’re not soaked to the skin this time.”
“About that,” she sighed as her eyes rolled back in embarrassment; “you really must let me pay for those clothes. It was a generous and thoughtful gesture, but I prefer to pay my way.”
“In that case,” winked James, “the next time you need clothes I promise to let you buy them. How’s that?”
“ Are you always this incorrigible?”
“Pretty much; yes.”

Cassie had often spoken about what an irascible, blunt and bad-tempered man James was; yet Colette was seeing no sign of it what ever. He was courteous, funny, polite, generous, attentive and considerate. Not at all distant or bad tempered. After one more drink they went to an Italian Restaurant that was just a few minutes walk away and was Michelin starred, and therefore very expensive. They were shown to a table mid way down the restaurant so they had a good view of the kitchen but also the illuminated Minster outside.
“Beautiful isn’t it?” said Colette in awe. “I love walking around here at night, it’s so tranquil and as close to perfection as you can get.”
“Yes it is. Maybe we can take a walk when we’ve finished here? Unless that is that you need to be back or anything.” Very tenderly his hands reached over the table and held her fingertips as his thumbs stroked them. “I understand if you have to be at work. Not everyone keeps my crazy schedule.”
“Actually it’s worked out well for me. I’m not in until tomorrow afternoon so I can always stay in bed and catch up if I need to.”
“Where are my manners? I never asked you what your job was did I?”
“I’m a vet, so I know what it like to have funny schedules. On calls are the worst part of it because you have to be back at work the next day giving it 100%, yet you could have been operating just a few hours previously.”

The meal was delightful and James refused to let her go Dutch with the bill, so she told him that next time they went out for a meal that it would be her treat. Both of them had smiled at the hidden meaning of her words before, arm in arm, taking a moonlight tour around the grounds of the Minster.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening Colette,” James whispered softly. “I’ve thoroughly enjoyed myself.”
“Me too. Thanks for leaving me your numbers.”
James giggled, “thanks for calling me. Now I should get you a taxi back home.” His lips touched hers and Colette sighed. Her hands reached up and caressed his face briefly before they pulled away. “Umm. Taxi I think young lady! Can I see you tomorrow night?”
“Why not come back with me?” asked Colette after taking a deep breath.
“There’s no hurry. Let’s enjoy the thrill of learning about each other before we take it further ok?” James saw the puzzled look that Colette flashed him but before she could say anything, his mouth once more captured hers. This time though is was a full blown passionate kiss and Colette moaned as she felt his arousal pressing against her, making her own body respond feverishly to his advances.

Lying in bed that night, Colette couldn’t get James or that kiss out of her mind. No man had ever affected her so intensely and whilst a part of her was scared, she was ultimately very happy and content at the way James made her feel. James Dean Bradfield of Manic Street Preachers was seeing her, and she could hardly believe it. ‘Not bad for a girl who wasn’t a fan of him or the band’ she thought to herself before cuddling up to her pillow and falling into a slumber filled with nice dreams of James.

Her afternoon surgery should have been very routine, but shortly before 6pm, they received a call from an anxious pet owner; one of her cats newly born kittens wasn’t well and wasn’t eating. Colette urged her to bring the queen and all the kittens in so she could check them out. As she waited for the kittens and their mum to be brought in, Colette called James and told him she was going to be late because she would still have her waiting list to finish. James had been obliging about it and wished her and the animals well, asking her to call when she was free.

Colette gave the queen and the kittens a thorough check up and found nothing seriously wrong in terms of medical conditions. However, the poor kitten who was really poorly was very obviously being pushed out of the way by his stronger brothers and sisters, and so wasn’t getting enough nutrients or attention from his mum. Several times she moved one of the other kittens and placed the little fellow in their place to suckle on mum, but each time the little mite would be bullied out of the way.
“He’s only three weeks old so he really should be with mum,” Colette said to the owner. “Unfortunately he’s literally starving because he’s being bullied. How would you feel about us taking him and feeding him up? It’s gong to be a lot of hassle feeding him with a pipette and keeping him warm. He’s going to need feeding every couple hours or perhaps even more frequently than that.”
“What are his chances Colette? I mean really.” The owner was in her mid twenties and had tears in her eyes. Only four months ago she herself had given birth to her first child.
“To be honest, at best 50/50. He may not like the substitute milk and that makes it so much more difficult. However I’ll take him home myself, and see if I can’t work my magic on him. If he does take to the milk I can use a large syringe or a small foster feeder. Because he hasn’t been eating much, we have to be careful not to overfeed him, that will give him an upset tummy and we don’t want that do we? He’s an adorable little thing, isn’t he? Has he got a name yet?”
“No. We haven’t named any of them yet. Why don’t you give him a name?”
“Could I really?” asked Colette as she picked the little ginger and white fur-ball up and snuggled him against her face. “So then little man. What do you think to the name James huh? Jamie for short.” It’s short snout brushed against her mouth and Colette smiled.
“Looks like it’s Jamie then,” said the owner.
“Now you go home and try not to worry. I’ll ring you in the morning to let you know how he is, and of course you can come and see him during the day. Just ring and reception will let you know if I’m here or at home with him. You have my address don’t you?” The owner nodded mutely. “Go on. You let me do the worrying now.”

Colette finally got home at 9.35pm. The rest of her surgery hadn’t been as smooth as she had hoped either and she had eventually had to concede defeat and get Jill, the receptionist, to call James and explain that they would not be able to meet after all.
Carefully, Colette placed the cardboard box containing Jamie away from draughts in the lounge and went to make some of the special kitten milk up for him. Thankfully he was happy to take the simulated milk and slurped it down hungrily. “Hey little fella!” giggled Colette. “Take it steady or you’re gonna have an upset stomach.”
Little Jamie just continued to guzzle happily.

Knock. Knock.

“I wonder who that can be huh, little man?” said Colette as she carried a well wrapped Jamie to the door. She glanced through the spy hole and there stood James equipped with two large shopping bags. Colette opened the door and smiled as she cradled Jamie. “James I didn’t expect to see you tonight. Erm, come on in.”
“Cheers,” he said brightly as he entered her home. “I hope you don’t mind but when Jill explained how busy you’d been and that you had a tiny one to take of, I wheedled your address out of her and went shopping!” He held the shopping bags aloft.
“Come on into the kitchen. I’ll make us coffee’s.” As Colette set about making them drinks, James put the bags down on the work surface and tried to sneak a peek at the little bundle Colette was holding. “Wanna take him for a while? His name is Jamie.”
James smiled as the tiny parcel was placed in his arms. “He’s a cutie isn’t he?” said James. “Hi Jamie. My names James and together with Colette, we’re gonna get you better so you can go home to your mum.”
“So what’s in the bags?”
“Well, I got you a choice of meals ‘cos I know you haven’t eaten. You can pick between a Chinese meal takeaway thing from the supermarket, an Indian one or pizza. Plus I bought a couple of dvd’s to help us stay awake, fresh orange juice, several packs of cigarettes, which will obviously be smoked outside! What else? Ah yes, chocolates, aromatherapy candles and some aromatherapy oils to help with the ambience and make you feel better.”
“Right now I think I could eat all of that food,” Colette grinned. “What did you get for pudding? Chocolates don’t count as pudding.”
“In that case… I forgot. Will I do for pudding instead?”
Colette blushed. “That’s a tempting offer, James.” Briefly she kissed him. “Let’s see what happens.”

They ate Chinese food, fed Jamie, watched a dvd and then fed Jamie. That was the pattern of their night.
“Time for you now,” said James as Jamie was laid down to sleep once more. “Where are your towels?”
“What for?” queried Colette.
“Massage. You deserve one.”
“Sounds like a great idea to me. I’ll go and get the towels and get ready, and you light the candles and get the oils ready. How’s that?”
“Go on! Quick, quick!”

When Colette had returned downstairs, now dressed in a robe, James had switched the gasfire on, lit the candles and mixed his oils together. She placed a large sheet on the floor, followed by a small cushion and then handed James some large bath sheets, for him to cover her with.
“I do know what I’m doing you know,” said James with a wry smile.
“I believe you. Have I intimated otherwise?” James shook his head in response. “Right lets get started then.” Colette turned her back to James as she stood over the sheet on the floor, and then slowly discarded her robe and threw it onto the sofa, and then settled on the floor.
“Here, you’ll need this,” murmured James as he covered her with a bath sheet, leaving only her shoulders and above uncovered.

The massage was relaxing and yet strangely uplifting. Afterwards, James lay beside her, stroking her and cuddling her lovingly.
“You have talented fingers, James.”
“I’m glad I could help make you feel better.”
“You did an excellent job.” Colette kissed him and James returned her kisses with enthusiasm.
They made love for the first time and neither could get over how good it was.

“You know you have to try to keep this little guy don’t you?” said James as he took his turn in feeding Jamie. “Me, you and him are like a little family now.”
“If he pulls through, I’ll ask. If he can get past this week he’ll be fine because he’d be getting weaned then anyway.”
“He’ll pull through, won’t you tiger? He’s a tough little cookie and he knows that we’ll love him like mad and spoil him rotten, don’t you sunshine?”
“I see one major problem with that,” said Colette. “Well two actually.”
“And they are?”
“We’ve only just met, so it’s a bit presumptuous to talk about ‘us’ and ‘family’ in the same sentence, and how can we be a family when you live between Cardiff and bloody London?”
James tugged her tighter into him. “Point one; you’re being awkward and ignoring the inevitable. Point two; I can always move to be with you.”
Jamie mewed softly and Colette leaned onto James’ shoulder and planted a kiss on top of Jamie’s little furry head. “I think he agrees.”
“Of course he does,” said James. “He knows when he’s on to a good thing. Just like me!”
James and Colette kissed as little Jamie mewed softly and contentedly between them. Suddenly Colette was a fan of James Dean Bradfield.

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