#oh mel

She'd met Mel Brooks at Gordon's show and they'd become fast friends. He's desperately funny, and quick and very short and very Jewish and ass over teakettle in love with Anne Bancroft, though he says he's too poor to actually marry her yet.

Currently, he's looking at Midge with his eyes crossed and an olive up his nose.

She laughs and sits at the bar next to him. "Mel."

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"Having a drink," he tells her as he proceeds to spill half of it on the floor.

Midge laughs harder and shakes her head. "You're a not."

Mel grin and removes the olive from his nose, pocketing it discreetly. "You know, Lenny is looking for you."

"So I've heard."

"You gonna put him out of his misery?" Mel asks.

"What misery? We're friends."

"Oh, Midge," Mel grins knowingly.

"What?!" she cries. "He said he wanted to be friends, he even brought a date tonight. We're just friends."

Mel chuckles. "He's crazy about you and he doesn't know what to do with it, so he keeps you at arm's length so he doesn't fuck things up. But the way he looks at you...talks about you. That's love, and I should know. That's how I am with Anne. I drive my buddies nuts talking about her and thinking about her, following her around. Lenny follow you around?"

Midge takes a breath and orders another drink. "Not so much follows me around as...shows up at the places I'm at."

"He's much sneakier than I am. That's impressive for a guy that tall."

"Well, he's skinny so he gets away with it," Midge jokes.

"He loves you," Mel tells her.

Midge takes a long sip from her newly acquired drink. "Are we talking about the same man? Lenny Bruce? Tall? Curly hair, foul mouth, serviceable dancer?"

"I wouldn't know about the dancing part," Mel laughs. "And you're being stubborn."

"So what if I am?" Midge shrugs. "The man says friends, I take him seriously."

"Is that what you want?" Mel asks. "Because if you just want to be his friend, I will stop talking right now. I mean about Lenny. I never truly stop talking in general."

"I'm aware," Midge laughs. She thinks for a long moment, looking down at her glass. "No. I don't want to just be friends with him. I liked that things were moving in a more romantic direction."

"So?"

"So, if he wants to be more than friends, he can tell me himself," she says.

"But he's bad at it," Mel pleads. "Have mercy on the guy, he's an idiot. He's not like me. He's terrible at love."

"And you're so good?" Midge asks. "Your first marriage ended, just like the rest of us."

"It's all about the second chances," he tells her.

"You're not gonna leave me be until I talk to him, are you?" she asks.

"I will sit here and shove olives up my nose all night if I have to," Mel grins. "I'm not meeting up with Anne until later, so I have time."

Midge takes a breath and downs the rest of her drink before slipping off her stool and looking around the penthouse. "Fine. Where is that putz?"

"Other end of the bar, trying to look like he isn't looking at you," Mel tells her.

She rolls her eyes, and leans in, kissing his cheek. "Your face smells like olives, go wash it before you see Anne."

"Good thought."

With that, Midge walks purposefully to the other end of the bar as the music starts to slow down, she spots Lenny, grabs him by the arm and hauls him to his feet.

"Midge-"

"We're gonna dance," she tells him.

"Your hand is freezing," he responds as he lets her drag him onto the dancefloor. "I can feel frostbite through two layers of clothing."

"Suffer." She settles her hand on his shoulder and takes his with her other. "I heard your date left."

"She did. She didn't want to stay at one party the whole night," Lenny explains. "And...she was tired of me."

"Oh? I can't imagine you being boring," Midge tells him.

"Well, I only talked about one thing tonight," he mutters.

"One thing? What?"

He gives her a very sheepish look.

"Lenny..."

"It's not my fault," he defends.

Midge scoffs, giving him an expectant look.

"I can't help myself," Lenny confesses, giving her that pleading look he had backstage at the Wolford when he'd been begging for her forgiveness. "You show up in the spectacular dress with the face and the hair and the eyes and I fall apart."

"I can't exactly help the eyes part," she jokes. "They're just there."

"Cursed genetics."

"Clearly," Midge agrees, and then pauses for a moment. "Mel says you love me."

He sighs softly. "He isn't terribly wrong on that score."

"You said you just wanted to be friends," she reminds him. "You brought someone else with you tonight."

"I'm a moron," Lenny shrugs. "One of the true idiots of the world. I'm shocked someone hasn't dropped a fucking dunce cap on my head while I'm being arrested."

Midge smiles a little.

"And I was still a little raw from Carnegie Hall," he admits. "But now, you're working...you're doing well...you're where you should be. And...I blew it. So..."

"I thought I blew it," she says. "I was surprised you even wanted to be friends at all after that blowup."

Lenny gazes at her intently. "I don't like the thought of you not being in my life."

Midge gazes back for a moment before leaning in and settling her head on his shoulder, cuddling in. She lets go of his hand and rests hers on the back of his neck. It feels like a puzzle piece clicking into place, and she closes her eyes. "What do we do now?"

"Well," he ponders. "The song isn't over yet. I say we keep dancing."