CREDIT TO:https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elle_Gardner/pseuds/Elle_Gardner

***************************************************************************************Work brings me to New York City a few times a year and I have found a few little boutique hotels that suite me just right. I particularly like one in SOHO that makes me feel like a real New Yorker. Brick exterior, small cozy room and near to delis, shopping and a subway stop. My meetings were done and I had a weekend in the city to look forward to now, so clad in spring skirt and flip flops I headed over to a coffee shop where I would defiantly be a regular at if I actually lived in this neighborhood.

Now who would have thought that a simple random act of kindness would lead me to the most amazing weekend of my life? It was just after the morning rush and the coffee house had quieted to just a few people playing on their phones or flipping through the newspaper. I wish I was more of a coffee connoisseur but it was a simple cup of herbal tea for me. I handed the clerk a $20 bill and told him "Please pay for whoever comes through next and keep the rest for yourself". The look of shock was priceless. As there was no one in line behind me, I had no way of knowing if he would actually pass on my gift to someone else, or just pocket the change, but acts of kindness cannot be judged, only paid forward to others.

I sat with my tea at a little café table just by the front door. Smartphone in hand, I was scrolling through email and Facebook messages before I started a bit of window shopping. I loved buying unique trinkets when I came here and I had a few gifts I wanted to buy some folks as well.

"Excuse me." The low voice was almost lost in the city noise but I looked up to see a man in sunglasses looking down at me. He was half smiling. "I hear you bought me this," he raised his cup a bit, "and I wanted to say thanks." His large hand was wrapped around the iced coffee and he waited for my reply.

"You're very welcome, my pleasure." I had been so caught up in the email I was reading that I had almost forgotten about the act of kindness. His smile was infectious, I couldn't help but grin back at him. His long wispy dark hair framed his face and I was suddenly mesmerized by this understatedly handsome man. He didn't seem to be in a rush to leave and there was something about these trips alone to NYC that brought the bravery of mine to the surface.

I spoke before the words registered in my brain. "Would you like to sit?" He slid his backpack off his shoulders and sat across from me. He put his coffee and his phone on the table and seemed to fidget in his seat a bit.

He reached his hand across the table as he introduced himself. "Hi, I'm Norman." I took his hand and choked out a reply, "Jessica." His hand was warm, strong but gentle. He seemed to be waiting for more, but I wasn't sure what. "Do you do this a lot, buy coffee for strangers?" His voice was unique, sexy and somewhat familiar. I tried to place it but I just couldn't, and his sunglasses were dark enough to make sure I would not be able to see his eyes.

"Not as often as I should. I'm sorry, but you seem very familiar to me and I am wondering if we had met before." We must have met, there was just something about this man that was too familiar.

Norman stroked his fingers through his beard, some of it gray, a sexy quality in a man. This time it was more like a smirk and I thought for sure he was going to tell me that we had spent the last three days in meetings together or something like that. Norman rubbed his hands together and twisted at his fingers, a nervous behavior it seemed. "I don't think we've met, but I'm an actor, you might have seen me on TV." My face flushed instantly, I didn't know who this man was but I felt embarrassed as he thought I should know him, and I questioned if he was serious, this was New York City after all. Little did he know that my TV viewing was limited as I chose to give up cable a few years ago and realized that I didn't really miss it at all. My tube television now mostly aired obscure movies off a DVD player that was on its last leg.

I often felt awkward admitting that I wasn't up on the votes on American Idol, I had no idea who made a cameo in Hot in Cleavland and I could never remember if the Dugger's had 18 or 19 kids. "I'm sorry, I don't really watch TV. What show are you on?" He reached for a pack of cigarettes and took one out, fidgeting with it but not lighting it.

"It's a zombie show on an off-network channel." I was fairly sure I had heard of this one, people at the office talked about it on Monday mornings. He held up the cigarette silently asking if I minded him lighting it. I waved my hand and nodded yes.

I fumbled with my words, he was not the first celebrity I had ever met, hell I am from Connecticut, home of Martha Steward and Brian Dennehy. But something about this one had me off balance. "Dead Man Walking?" I had heard that it was pretty bloody and gross. Norman laughed this fantastic laugh, I had obviously guessed the wrong show. "That's a Sean Penn film about prison, but mine has a prison too, so close enough." I had confused the words and my face flushed with embarrassment. He took a deep drag off his cigarette and reached for my hand.

"Really, it's cool that you don't watch it." He held both my hands in his, he had big hands that I suddenly wanted to feel all over me. The moment was broken when a delivery guy on a bike rode by and yelled a hello to Norman, he smiled and waved. "So what do you do Jessica?" He had changed the conversation and the air felt more comfortable. I told him that I worked in purchasing for a manufacturing company and that I had been in town on a conference. Something about this man made conversation easy, we talked for a while mostly about me, he asked me too many questions and I just blathered on about myself. How I was recently single and had no kids, how I was probably too dedicated to work and that I loved to travel.

I had the impression that he liked to talk to someone who wasn't a fan, who didn't really know who he was and when a young man interrupted us for an autograph he seemed to snap into professional work mode. Norman excused himself from the table and stood to talk with this fan. He signed an empty coffee cup and took a selfie with the man's phone. When the fan asked him if there would ever been a "Boondocks 3" it hit me. I finally figured out where I had seen Norman before. I had dated a guy who loved both the Boondock Saints movies and had made me watch them with him one night. Norman's hair was shorter then, lighter. A thick Irish accent and draped in a Peacoat. Very different from the man who I sat with now who spoke with his hands, fidgeted in his seat and a punk rock t-shirt and scuffed up boots.

I bet we talked for almost an hour and I can honestly say that I don't remember what we talked about. I was trying not to stare too long at his lips, his muscular arms, the way he sucked on a cigarette or drank his coffee, that curl of his lip and the way he pulled at the collar on his shirt. He didn't strike me as a man who could sit still even if he tried. It was charming in its own way. The street was starting to get busy with tourists and locals and our conversation had been interrupted two more times so that he could spend time with fans. He seemed to genuinely enjoy each encounter and it was interesting to watch him. As he sat a final time he checked his phone. "I'm really sorry Jessica. I have to get home to do this Skype interview thing in a little while. Actually I have a few Skype's and a phone interview this afternoon. We are between seasons but this is all just part of the job." He cleaned up the coffee cups and the empty pack of cigarettes and stood again. "I know you only have the weekend. Can I get your number and maybe we can hang later?"

I stood up and as quickly as this sexy man had walked into my life, he was walking out again. "Um, sure. I would like that." He handed me his phone and I dialed my number into it. Then, Norman wrapped his arms around me in a hug I would never forget. His chest against mine, one arm around my not-so-skinny waist and the other skimmed under my hair. He held me there and I inhaled his scent. Smoke and coffee on the surface but all man and musky beneath that.

He broke the hug before I would have liked but it was probably for the best. Much longer in his arms and I might have tried to kiss and lick at the bit of collar bone that I was close to. He picked up his back pack, "You don't mind me calling later?" He slid his phone into his pocket. I nodded a yes. That hug had caused easy conversation to turn to a loss of words. "Okay sweetheart, I'll call ya later." He kissed me on the cheek, the same as he had the woman who asked for his autograph earlier. The one who eyed me as if I were the enemy. Norman was gone, long strides of a walk, he carried himself from his chest and it was sexy. His jeans and t-shirt hung perfectly on his frame and I watched him till he got to the corner. He turned back and caught me staring. A wave and he was gone. I realized that he must live close but I didn't know the area well enough to imagine where.

I spent the afternoon wandering SOHO, Chinatown and Little Italy. I couldn't shake the feel of Norman hugging me out of my mind. I had never felt so wrapped in an embrace in my life and I wanted to feel it again and again. The sun shifted behind some buildings and the air chilled quickly. I had no idea what he meant when he said he would call later, he is a movie star and all, later could be midnight, in time to go to a club? I carried the bags full of goodies I had bought into the hotel and found my way to my room. It seemed silly but I wanted to try and learn all I could about this man. I wanted to jump onto the internet and find out what else he had been in and who he was. I wanted to find out his last name.

My search started at IMDB and Boondock Saints. He was in dozens of movies I had never heard of and a few I had heard of but never seen. Google searches lead me to a production company he ran, he was a photographer and painter. A father, which he had mentioned, and a man who most notably dated models. The polar opposite of me that is. YouTube reviled moments captured at Comic book conventions and interviews, all of which showed me the same kind man who couldn't keep still and seem to radiate positive energy. One internet magazine talked about his propensity for licking people and posted pictures of it, something intriguing about it all and I found myself wanting to be licked as well. I don't know how long I had been searching on Twitter where people adored him and it was mutual for sure. The sun was almost gone and my cell phone rang. A blocked number had my stomach in knots and I almost dropped the phone while answering it.

"H- hello?" I was like a nervous school girl all of a sudden.

Norman's voice was calm, not like mine at all. "Hi Jessica, its Norman. Um, Reedus. Hi." Well, almost calm.

I grasped the phone tightly, "Hi Norman." I had too many windows of this man open on my lap top. I had learned so much about him in the past few hours and I realized it was more like stalking than learning. "How'd the Skyping go?"

"Good, I got phone calls done and interviews and a bunch of fan mail stuff. When people draw stuff for me I try and take a picture of it and put it on Twitter." I had seen him do that today, he had posted a handful of kid's drawings of his "Daryl" character and folks responded with "Follow Me Norman", I didn't fully understand it all. "Um...I was hoping you might want to hang out tonight. Maybe get something to eat?"

I have to admit, I was beginning to flip out. This morning I was just a tourist in the city looking to see New York and now a famous man was asking me to dinner. "I would love to." We chatted about food we liked and settled on a time to get together. I gave him my hotel name and it gave me an hour to figure out what I was going to wear. I had mostly packed for conferences and only a few casual things. He seemed more the jeans and t-shirt kind of guy. I tore through my suitcase and realized that I should have gone clothes shopping this afternoon and not for trinkets. I settled on a skirt that came just above my knees and a top with a low cut V neck. I had worn it earlier this week with a camisole under it, but this time I was more daring with my cleavage. I had suggested Italian and he had agreed. I was leaving the rest of the night in his hands. I was sure he knew plenty of restaurants in the area if he lived nearby.

He said he would pick me up in the lobby, Norman Reedus was actually coming to meet me at my hotel and take me to dinner. I had cleaned up my hotel room three times now waiting for him to call. I had stopped the online stalking after we had hung up the phone, maybe it was better that I didn't know too much about him, it seemed like the folks on Twitter knew everything there was to know. His son, his cat, his apartment in the city. They knew movies based on tattoos and interviews based on clothing, but one thing was certain, they were all devoted to this man Because Reedus, whatever that meant.

My room phone rang and I jumped.

"Hi Jess, it's Norman. I'm in the lobby with a change of plans. Would it be okay if I came up to your room?" The line was almost dead before it all registered in my brain.

"Sure, that's fine. Room 516." He hung up before I could say goodbye and I was suddenly happy that I had puttered around the room for the last hour. I scanned for any dirty laundry, a made bed and the vibrator I had packed but never used. I hadn't even taken it out of my suitcase but I had to make sure it was out of site. The room was company ready.

One last glance in the mirror before I opened the door. I think I may have blacked out for a moment. There stood Norman with his tousled hair, a black long sleeve t-shirt and jeans. But it was the fact that I could see his eyes for the first time, no sunglasses anymore. They were tucked into to the front of his shirt, he was carrying a bag that looked like groceries. God those blue eyes, I could get lost in there forever.

In invited him in and then it was awkward. I wasn't sure what the change in plan was and my small hotel room didn't leave much room for entertaining. "I thought we could stay in. Don't feel much like crowds. Besides it's easier to talk if we're alone." He put down the bag and pulled me in for a hug. His Twitter fans were right, he seemed to be a hugger. "Is this okay? You look great by the way."

"Sure, that's great." I lead him further into the room and moved my sweater off the only arm chair. I offered him the seat but he turned it down opting for the swivel chair at the small work desk. He picked up the room phone and quickly made a few requests. A room service cart, a few bottles of water and some plates with silverware. As if he had thought about this before he got here. I loved how he seemed to have it all planned out.

We talked for a while, about his Skype calls for internet programs and radio shows. He referred to his TV show as Dead Man Walking with a smile and I told him that I checked him out on line today. We talked about his art and his son, he face lit up as he bragged about his kid, like any good father should. He told me he was shy and considered himself a dork, I found this all hard to believe as he sat before me oozing of sex and confidence. We were interrupted when housekeeping brought up the requested items but it made for a cozy way for us to have dinner. We ended up eating with plates in our laps like old friends and Norman had great taste in Italian food and Peroni beer. He was so animated when he spoke and he was a great story teller. I had asked him about these Comic book conventions and he explained them in animated detail. After we were done eating Norman cleaned it all up into the hallway. And that's when things got, well, good.

Norman rolled the swivel chair my way and held a stare with me that made my heart race. He pushed up the sleeves on his shirt, "You have great legs Jessica." He touched my calf with his warm hand and I was frozen. I did have nice legs. Nice legs and breasts, it was all I had going for me. I am too big in the hips, too soft through the middle and I'd never dare wear tank tops like Michelle Obama. His hand stroked my calf as he leaned in close to me.