#boblyn

He hadn’t questioned it when she’d sent him a text asking her to walk her home from her show- he met her at the stage door and escorted her to the bus and they hadn’t spoken much- but she held his hand and stopped all of his attempts at both apologizing and arguing and he was wondering if all was forgiven without him even saying anything- and then she’d kissed him on the walk to her building, and as they waited for the elevator, and on the elevator ride after her neighbor got off three floors down.

He heard the sort of squeak she gave as he pushed her up against the back of the door of her apartment- not pained, but a pleased sound either. “Shit sorry, am I going too fast?” he asked. Maybe she hadn’t wanted sex? It was just that she also didn’t seem to want to talk to him about what had happened and normally she wanted at least one or the other. He took a few steps back to give her some air.

“No, it’s alright,” she said as she walked into her kitchen and let him follow. “I mean, maybe we should wait and talk, but it’s fine,” she clarified. “Water?” she asked as she filled a glass.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” And that was when he knew he was in trouble because it was always alcohol with them, not water- which he did realize was terrible, but they had been bad about that back when they’d been in college and had been semi-functional people and not late-twenty something disasters.

He drifted into her bathroom, mostly just to splash some water on his face- because this was clearly going to be a conversation. It was when he glanced down at the waste basket that he realized that this was truly going to be a conversation. At least their earlier argument made sense now.

He went back into the living room and sat down on her little couch across from her so he could see her face. “It’s midnight. What do you want?” she asked. “Do you want to talk about it? The tour?”

He waited for her to say it but wasn’t surprised when she didn’t. “It would be decent money and no one here is really knocking down my door.” He’d filmed a guest role on some crime drama the week before which was the only reason he wasn’t completely freaking out about the fact that the last show he was in had closed six months ago and he hadn’t had a single good audition since then- other than that damn tour which had lead to their argument.

“But do you want to do it?” she asked. She’d pulled her knees up to her chest, bare feet resting on the seat of the couch she was sitting on. “Like this role, do you want to do it or is it just for the money.”

“Am I a complete sell out if I admit it’s just for the money?”

“No, but I don’t think you should do it, anyway” she said, eyes shut. Long sip of water and then a face like she wished it was something else. “Something else will come up here. I’m reading for a workshop- it wouldn’t open for over a year, but they want me. I’ll have something for after I leave Sweet Charity. You’ll find something.”

He considered asking a different question but backed down. “How is Sweet Charity going?”

She shrugged. “I’m leaving next month. Then it’s readings and workshops for the new thing.”

And that confirmed it. “When were you going to tell me that you’re pregnant?” Her face dropped, even though he’d asked as gently as possible. He didn’t exactly see how he could beat around the bush. At least he hadn’t just grabbed the pregnancy kit box out of her trash can.

She looked down at her glass and didn’t answer that particular question. “According to my doctor I’m at six weeks, now. I’m fine to keep performing in the show, but the producers want me to leave before I start showing, but they’re paying out my contract since I was willing to stay. I’ve known for the last two weeks.” She looked up at him, chewing on her lip for a moment before she asked, “How mad are you?”

He sighed. At least she hadn’t known when they’d last fought. “Not enough for it to matter. What do you want to do?”

“Keep it.” He just nodded. That was that, then. “We should probably get our shit together then. Probably not go another three weeks without talking after an argument.”

“Don’t give me that look! It wasn’t my fault!”

“Look, whatever. Just at least consider not doing that tour? Okay? When we fought I was just going to miss you but now…” Oh, she was going to cry. Damnit. “I mean you can do what you want, but it would be easier if you were here.”

“So I’ll be here,” he insisted quietly. So that was the last time he ever got to run away from his problems. Probably a good thing if he was being honest with himself. He moved over to the same couch as her and was a little relieved when she curled into him instead of pushing against him. Her head fit against his shoulder, her legs in his lap, almost content. He could tell she’d been worried about telling him- but why? Did she really think he was going to abandon her?

He ignored the voice in his head that mentioned the whole running away from his problems thing was an ongoing trend for him. Not with something like this, though. “We should go to bed.” He wanted to have more of a conversation, figure out logistics- they probably should officially be a couple. They probably should start living together. Way too much to think about until morning.

“I wouldn’t mind falling asleep out here,” she said, relief at having told him making her practically melt into his side.

But no, it was Brooke with two cups of coffee in hand and a manilla folder under her arm. He didn’t say anything when she walked in, too tired and drained, just stepped back to let her through and cleared a mess of papers off of the coffee table. 

“Drink,” she said, removing one of the cups from the cardboard carrier she was carrying and handing it to him. The warmth of the paper cup was pleasant and the first sip made him feel a little bit more like a person. “Better?” she asked as she sat down on the couch.

“Yeah,” he said. “Thanks. What’s that?” He asked figuring that his ex-girlfriend, current friend that he kept sleeping with without really meaning to had some purpose for coming over and hadn’t just decided to be the Coffee Angel or something.

“A ‘Saving Your Career Kit’. I just got cast in a show. You’re right for the male lead who they haven’t cast yet. Prepare, give the number in there to your manager and have him schedule an audition for you.”

“You really want to do that again? Star opposite each other?”

She shrugged. “I thought we got all of the bullshit out of our system the first time. Is there more bullshit I have to be made aware of?” I think I love you, again. Or still? Nope, he wasn’t dumb enough to say that.

“No, not really,” he said as he started digging through the folder. Sides from the show, a song he didn’t recognize that he guessed was from the show, a new monologue and marked sheet music from an old audition song he’d used in college. “You’ve thought of everything, I didn’t even think to ask you for help.”