Chapter One

Barbara Jean looked once more around her home. Henry was already in the car, and now she just had to say goodbye to her best friend, Reba.

Reba was upstairs asleep, since it was getting late. The house was unnaturally quiet, and she made sure to tiptoe the way up to Rebas room.

"Reba?" she whispered, poking her head in.

She was asleep on her bed, fully dressed, not under the covers. Barbara Jean tried to wake her.

"Reba? Reba, I'm leaving now – I'm going to the airport to get to LA!"

"Don't go…stay…"
"I can't, I –''

"Brock…stay…"

It took Barbara Jean a minute to process that Reba was still asleep. She stifled a giggle. "Reba, wake up!" she said rather loudly, shaking her by the elbow.

Reba jerked up, looking around. "Barbara Jean, you idiot, what are you doing?"
"Sorry!" Barbara Jean put a finger to her lips. "I'm leaving for LA, I had to say goodbye!"
Reba relaxed, and sadly smiled. "I…I'll miss you, Barbara Jean."

In a flash Barbara Jean was hugging her tight. "I'll miss you, too, Reba!" she sniffed. Reba tried to hug back, but this was made difficult since Barbara Jeans arms were pinning her arms to her waist. She finally held her at arms length. "What were you dreaming about?"
"I…sorry I'm a little groggy, I can't remember," Reba lied. She could remember, but it was still strange to her. What was he doing back in her head?

"Oh…because you were trying to talk to Brock. Want me to get him?" Barbara Jean asked helpfully.

"NO! No, don't, uh, I'll see him tomorrow and tell him...whatever it was I said," Reba promised, crossing her fingers behind her back.

"Oh, you told him not to go," Barbara Jean shrugged, oblivious to what this meant. "I'll miss you, Reba. See you soon, goodbye!"

A MONTH AND A HALF LATER

It was around eight in the morning. Reba sipped her coffee, smiling, as she saw she had an email from Barbara Jean. She'd never admit it, but she had missed her friend. She clicked on the email, impatient to see how BJ had been since the divorce.

Reba,

I MISS YOU SO MUCH! So does Henry – everyday he asks if we'll see "Weeba". Guess you know he sends his love!

How have you been? Gotten any houses sold? I'm doing pretty well; I seem to be moving on just fine. Every time I start to feel a little lonely for anyone I just think of you getting over Brock so well (even though you talk about him in your sleep). If I were there I'd give you a huge hug…even though you'd push me off and yell at me with that accent of yours.

I have to get ready for another date with that film producer – Reba, they make the best boyfriends; you should come up and see for yourself!

Update me with all the family life – lots of love

BJ

Reba smiled as she finished the letter. She had received so many from Barbara Jean in the last few days but never got tired of them.

Only one part of the letter caused a crease in her forehead. "…I just think of you getting over Brock so well…" She wasn't sure why it bugged her so much. Maybe it was because she hadn't been alone and Barbara Jean was…but that couldn't be it. Barbara Jean had mentioned that she had dates.

So why did it bug her?

She shook her head, closing out of her email and planning to respond later. Turning, she screamed as she noticed Brock, his head next to hers, apparently having read over her shoulder.

"BROCK, you mo-ron!" She yelled pushing him into the kitchen island. To her astonishment and anger, she realized Brock had started laughing.
"What is so funny – y'almost gave me a heart attack!" She was still clutching her chest as she got up and hurried to pour herself more coffee.

"I'm sorry, Reba, you're just…" but he couldn't control himself and started laughing again. Reba glared, thumbing the side of her coffee mug.

"'Just so what'? Brock – your head couldn't have been closer if we were tied together! Why were you reading my emails anyway? Oh, get a grip!"

Finally Brock, clutching the island for support said, "I'm sorry, Reba, it was the look on your face that made me laugh. It's hilarious when you see your surprised face up close." He started to laugh again, but caught sight of Reba glaring. That didn't help – he knew she was mad, but for some reason, whenever she was mad she just looked so cute, and he smiled wider.

"Brock, you are and idiot. Now why were you reading over my shoulder, it's rude!" she snapped.

"Well I noticed the letter was from BJ and I wanted to see how she was. I was almost done when you turned around and screamed in my face."

Reba scowled. "It's still rude. I didn't hear you come in, what'd you do, spend the night here?"

"No, I just came in the back door. You were really into your email – can I finish reading it?"
"I already closed out of it, I'll just tell you what she said. She said she misses me, has a date, and lots of love," Reba said as she sat to open up the morning paper.

"That's not the part I'm interested in,"

"Oh?" Reba asked, pretending to read the front page, and her heart beating fast. If she'd gotten to the part about BJ being lonely she'd have to comfort him, and comforting him may mean hugging him, hugging him meaning never letting go…

"No, I was more interested in the fact that you dream about me."
Brock noticed Reba go as red her hair. She'd forgotten about that part.

"…Oh. That."

"Well? What was it about?"

"I was having a nightmare." She lied.

"And talked about me?" Brock grinned. It was so much fun embarrassing Reba. It was what came after he'd have to run away from.

"Yeah, sure. Something about 'AHH ITS BROCK RUN FOR THE HILLS!'" She yelled.

"Mom?" Cheyenne and Van had come in, both puffy-eyed and in their pajamas. "You dream about Dad?"

"NO!" Reba yelled over her shoulder.

"Whoa, that's a pretty suspicious 'no', Mrs. H…" Van said, his eyes flickering between his in-laws. "What's the matter, a little overly-defensive?

"NO!" Reba yelled again, getting up and storming out.

"Dad? What was all that about?" Cheyenne asked her father, pouring her and Van each a cup of coffee.

Brock, who was looking confused, murmured, "That's what I'm trying to figure out. Reba!" He followed her as she trumped up the stairs.

"Go home, Brock, even you can find the way there!" she yelled, but he had caught up with her and was holding her stiffly in place. Goosebumps erupted up her arm, not going unnoticed by Brock. "Let me go!" she squirmed, but he only held her arm tighter.

"What's the big deal – so we had a misunderstanding, just what was the nightmare about?"

Reba scowled. Why did he care? Why did he even have to be around anymore? Why hadn't he followed Barbara Jean to LA and continued his problems there instead?

"It was nothing Brock, I can't remember it, it was awhile ago," she lied again. She could remember it clearly – in fact, she hadn't stopped dreaming it. Every minute she was asleep she had it.

Brock wasn't fooled. Now he was involved and curious. "I think you remember it," he said, giving her that beautiful, all-knowing smile that he knew she could not resist. He could tell by the way that she let go of her breath than caught in quick enough to say:

"Back off, Brock, can't you know when you've lost?" But Brock just continued to smile and raised an eyebrow.

It was too much for Reba to stand. He wasn't going to give way this time.

"Fine!" she huffed, and he let go of her arm as she folded them. "I dreamed that we were married again," she avoided his eyes, looking at her arms.

Brocks heart skipped a beat. He swallowed, then pressed, "And?"

Reba sighed, her nose adorably twitching, like she always did when she was uncomfortable. "And…you stayed that time. I woke up and thought you were right there, but…you weren't."

This was more than Brock had expected. He could see Reba blinking furiously, her lips pursing in a cry of shame, and wished he hadn't asked.

"Sorry…" he whispered.

She shook her head and turned to keep walking up the stairs. Brock stayed put, wondering what to do. Making a swift decision he continued to follow her.

The bedroom door had not closed all the way, and he came in unnoticed. She was sitting with her back to him on the bed, her head in her hand.

She had no clue he was there – he was always there to her, he was always in her mind, smiling at her…

"No…" she was muttering. "Stop it…get out of my head, Brock…please get out of my head…" he heard a sniffle, and could, in his mind, see her blue eyes filling up with tears.