Title: A Million Times Zero
Type: Fanfic, oneshot.
Rating: G
Warnings: None at all, unless you really don't like little kids.
Summary: David Cook meets a six-year-old fan. Not of the electrical variety.

 

“David!”

The man turns around to see a pair of bright blue eyes peering up at him, shining with excitement. Their owner is slightly breathless, as though she’s been chasing him.
 

“Hi, there,” he smiles, amused.
 

The girl seems awkward now, less sure of herself. She shifts uncomfortably, staring down at her shoes. Fidgeting, she brings her gaze up, up, and up to meet his again.
 

“Are you really him?” she asks meekly, undertones of excitement in her voice. She’s shy, and her cheeks are tinged with pink. David bends down a little, resting his hands on his knees. Immediately, the girl’s hands jump to her hair, nervously arranging the brown strands. Her vanity amuses David further.

“Who?” he asks, playing along. The girl fidgets again, obviously semi-regretting running up to him. It’s a while before she finds her tongue again.
 

“Are you… Are-you-David-Cook?” she asks in a rush, cheeks aflame, like it’s the stupidest question in the world.
 

“I sure am,” replies David cheerfully. “And who might you be?”
 

The look on the girl’s face is like it’s a million Christmases all at once. Giving a small yip of joy, she throws her arms around him and says into his stomach, “My name is Lindsey! I love you a lot!”
 

“Hi, Lindsey-I-love-you-a-lot!” David chuckles, lifting her up and spinning her around in a hug. Lindsey-I-love-you-a-lot is skin and bone, and feather-light. She giggles and squeals in delight, finally giving a small hiccup as David puts her back down. Her hands fly to her hair again, and David is surprised to see her whole head of hair move as she tugs at it lightly. It takes him only a minute to understand its implications.
 

“Is that a wig?” he asks casually, reaching out to rest a hand on her head; but Lindsey-I-love-you-a-lot ducks away quickly, painfully self-conscious.
 

“Yeah, so what if it is?” she asks warily. “And, silly, it’s just ‘Lindsey’.”
 

“All right, Lindsey. Why don’t you try taking that thing off? It’s hot and itchy, isn’t it?”
 

“I won’t,” she says stubbornly. “I have no hair. I look stupid with no hair.”
 

“I don’t think you would. You’ve got such a pretty face, I bet it’d look even prettier without any hair in the way.”
 

“I’m six, David, not four.” David bit his lip to keep himself from smiling.

“And you know everything, don’t you?”
 

“I know my multiplication tables up to five,” she beams proudly.
 

“Yeah? What’s five times five?”
 

“Twenty-five.”

“Really? I thought it was seventy thousand!”
 

“That’s not right!” she gasps delightedly. “It’s twenty-five!”
 

“Okay, you win. I guess my math isn’t so hot, huh?”
 

“I’m telling Mrs. Whaley that she doesn’t need to give me any more sums, ‘cause my math is better than David Cook’s.”
 

An idea hit him.
 

“Hey, you know what? I’ll give you a million times zero bucks if you take off your wig. How’s that sound?”
 

The girl’s mouth falls open.
 

“You don’t have a million bucks!”
 

“Sure I do,” David says nonchalantly. He pretends to examine his fingernails. “I’m a rockstar, aren’t I? Rockstars have tons of money.”
 

“That’s true…” Lindsey still looks doubtful. “You do know how much a million is, don’t you?”
 

“Certainly. It’s one followed by six zeroes.”
 

He watches her stab the air as she counts the number of zeroes in a million.
 

“Yeah, you’re right. Will you really give me a million bucks?”

“A million times zero,” he says generously.
 

“Pinky swear!” she insists, and the two curl their pinkies together; David’s a little afraid he might break hers in the process, it’s so small and fragile-looking. “That was a pinky swear,” she says warningly. “You can’t break a pinky swear.”
 

“Don’t worry, I won’t. Cross my heart and hope to die.”
 

A small hand reaches up to her hair, only to finger a few locks reluctantly.
 

“I look really ugly without hair.”
 

“No, you don’t. My brother, Adam, he never wore a wig. He was bald too, but he never bothered. It was supposed to be really uncomfortable and itchy, so he didn’t want one.” His insides writhe painfully. He tries to avoid talking about Adam as much as he can, and here he is bringing him up in order to get this girl to take off her wig.
 

“But Adam’s a boy! He doesn’t need to worry so much about having no hair!” wails Lindsey. David doesn’t bother to correct her use of present tense.
 

“But that showed that he was brave! It showed that he was strong, and that he didn’t care what people thought of him with no hair.” He has to swallow a few times to get rid of the lump in his throat. Lindsey can see that he isn’t feeling right, and is quiet. Then, she slowly slips off the wig.
 

It is an odd sight at first, but as David looks at her some more, he smiles. Fine, treacle-coloured wisps cover her head, so she isn’t completely bald. The absence of proper hair makes her eyes look bigger, and David notices for the first time that one of her two front teeth is missing.
 

“How could you say you look ugly? You’re such a pretty little girl,” smiles David, shaking his head. A faint blush creeps into Lindsey’s cheeks, and she smiles too.
 

“Lindsey!”
 

They both turn to see a man in his thirties waving at them.


“Lindsey, c’mon, we gotta go!”


“Aw, man,” she mumbles. Turning, she throws her arms around David once more, her cheek pressed against his stomach. “Bye, David. Don’t forget me, okay?”
 

David hugs her back the best he can.
 

“I’m pretty sure I won’t, Lindsey-I-love-you-a-lot.”
 

She giggles as she releases him.
 

“Silly. Bye!” She turns and starts running to her father, the wig in her hand dancing wildly; fondly, David watches her go. Suddenly, she stops and whips around. “Hey!”
 

“What is it?” calls David, surprised.

“You owe me a million bucks!”
 

David starts laughing, much to her indignation.
 

“I owe you a million times zero bucks. And anything multiplied by zero is zero!”
 

The girl’s jaw drops, but is quickly snapped back up in a scowl at the realisation that she has been duped. Her hands are on her hips now, the brown wig hanging limply.
 

“Fine, you win. But I’ll show you next time, David Cook!”
 

David continues watching as she runs into her father’s arms.
 

“I’m sure you will, Lindsey-I-love-you-a-lot.”