As I said it before, I'm totally fine with Rebecca and the Dutch Boat Bloke being just a one-time thing, but still, I'd love to see some more stuff about them, so here is their reunion:
Better late than never
Despite weeks had passed since A.F.C. Richmond's trip to Amsterdam, Rebecca Welton's lips still curled up as she thought of that night in that house boat in the Dutch capital. However, as time went on, she found it harder and harder to recall the features of the gorgeous stranger: his face, his smile, his voice. What she could still remember was the way her made her feel: warm, cozy, safe. Gezellig.
The whole thing could have gone really wrong as she ended up in the house of a complete stranger, in a foreign country, with her phone in the Canal and without anyone knowing her whereabouts. But luckily, it turned to be one of the best nights of her life. It was perfect in its own way, but sometimes she found herself wondering who this man exactly was, even though she learned more about him at that one night than about others whom she knew for years. What she didn't know was his name and he didn't know hers either - at that moment, it didn't seem important. Still, sometimes she regretted not asking it, especially when she noticed that she began forgetting what he looked like. If he just walked into the pub, she wouldn't even recognise him.
Right at the moment she thought about that, she spotted him. For a moment she thought it was her mind playing tricks on her, but taking a closer look, she knew it was really him, eating fish and chips at one of the tables. Although she couldn't have described his features in details, seeing the bald man with blue eyes and a short beard, wearing a navy blue Ralph Lauren T-shirt, she was sure it was him.
"Fuck me," she mumbled, shaking her head a little, with her eyes glued to the gorgeous stranger.
Feeling her gaze on himself, the bald man looked up from his lunch and the sight made him drop the fork onto the table.
"Is this real, or is it just happening in my head?" he wondering, and his astonished expression truned into a grin in disbelief.
"I was asking myself the same question," Rebecca said as she stepped closer to his table. "What are you doing here?"
“I’m visiting a friend,” he replied, still looking at her in awe. After all, this was the first time he saw her in full armor: a pink sleeveless blouse, a gray pencil skirt and a pair of black stilettos. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” she told him. She had just had lunch with her mother who (luckily) had left already.
“That's quite a coincidence. Do you want to sit down?” he wondered, gesturing towards the chair opposite his.
“And where’s your friend?” she asked once she was seated.
“In the office,” he said. “Unfortunately, there is no such thing as a take-your-friend-to-work day, so he left me alone.”
“What is your plan, then?”
“Is there any take-your-one-night-stand-to-work day here?” he asked with a small grin.
“Why, is there such thing in The Netherlands?” Rebecca asked in a teasing tone.
“No, it hasn’t been introduced yet. Thank God,” he added with a chuckle.
“No, we don’t have it either,” Rebecca said. “But if you like, I can give you a few suggestions of some local sights.”
Her gaze met his blue eyes and they both smiled.
“I’d love that,” he said. “And you know, my friend plays in a small, indie rock band in a nearby bar tonight. Would you like to join me at the concert?”
“Sure, why not?” she said, even though the last time she had listened to any indie music was when Ted brought that guitarist guy from the street to the club’s charity gala. But she had a good feeling about this. Gezellig, she thought to herself as she glanced at the Dutchman in front of her.
Once he told her which bar it was, he took his wallet out of his pocket, fished out a piece of paper, then he wrote down his phone number and handed it to her.
“You can call me in case anything happens,” he said.
Their fingers briefly touched as she took the note from him, making her smile grow wider. She typed his number into her phone and tapped the call button.
“And this is mine, in case anything happens,” she said.
***
Later that afternoon, when she was back in her office, Rebecca’s phone started ringing and on the screen she could see a Dutch number.
“I’ve just realised that I still don’t know your name,” she heard the familiar deep voice and she couldn’t stop smiling.
“You haven’t asked,” she said.
“You haven’t asked mine either,” he pointed out.
“There were more important things to talk about.”
“Anyway, it’s Erik,” he told her, and she could tell he was smiling.
“And I’m Rebecca,” she said.
***
P.S.: Giving him this name is my headcanon only, and I named him after the soldier Matteo van der Grijn played in the musical Soldaat van Oranje because the little aeroplanes might have been a reference to that (thanks to @dr-doomsduck for pointing that out!).
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