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i.
There are people crowded around the bar, the soft chatter of would-be lovers filling the air. Gene fingers the songbook, his eyes watering slightly at the smoke. Images of the afternoon fill his head: of Denise crying and curling up in the couch, and Gene stuttering half-formed apologies, the hurt rising up at his throat. He can't even remember why they were fighting--something about the grant, the late nights. The strange, restless air between them that wasn't there before. Gene's fingers caress the page, then stop at a title.
All By Myself. He looks up at the DJ by the bar.
"I'd like to sing this one," Gene says, softly. The DJ nods and hands him the microphone.
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ii.
Gene pretends to be asleep when Denise gets out of bed. It's calculated, her early morning risings: she always leaves before he wakes up. With his eyes half-open Gene watches her wind her thick red hair into a bun, her fingers expertly pinning it down at the nape of her neck. Gene used to kiss her there, at that delicate triangle above her shoulder blades. Lately it's as if she only spends the night out of duty to him, a chore she must endure. It's been so long since he's touched her, he can barely remember what it feels like.
"You're up early," Gene says, and Denise turns around.
"I'm getting ready to leave, I didn't think you'd be awake right now," Denise says.
"You don't want to stay? I can make coffee--"
"I can't, I have errands to run," Denise says. She straightens her hair and folds her arms across her chest. "I'll see you later though, okay?"
"That's fine," Gene says. He fights the urge to grab her and pin her down, to kiss her and make it better.
Denise smiles at him with dead eyes. "Have a good day," Denise says.
"You too," Gene says. His voice sounds hollow in his ears.
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iii.
"It's Gene! Gene the machine! C'mon man, give it here, high five buddy, high five!"
Gene walks past Mike, whose hand is still in the air, and bounds down the metal steps, the glass door to his lab swinging behind him. The glass is supposed to be soundproof, but Mike is leaning on the intercom. He can hear everything Mike is saying.
"What's up with Time Boy? He wouldn't even say hi," Mike says.
"He's stressed out, give the guy break," Val says. Their voices sound tinny on the intercom speakers.
Gene taps on his microphone. "Uh, guys..."
Mike's eyes widen and he jumps off the intercom button. He grabs his microphone. "Sorry, Gene-o. I didn't realize--"
"That's okay, just next time be more cognizant of your surroundings," Gene says.
Mike gives him a fake salute and turns toward Val. Gene can see Mike talking and making faces, but Gene doesn't care. He turns on his CD player.
There's nothing like a little Madonna to make things better.
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iv.
This used to be my playground (used to be!). This used to be my--
"Childhood dream," Gene sings. "This used to be the place I ran to--" He runs the wires through the ceiling. "Whenever I was in need. Of--" He turns the wrench. "A friend. Why did it have to end? And why do they always say--"
Val is knocking on the glass. Gene switches off the CD player and heads up the steps. He unlocks the glass door. "What's up?" Gene asks.
"You're leaning on the intercom," Val says. Gene cocks his head.
"Impossible, I'm in the center of the room, setting up my generator," Gene says.
Val motions toward the desk, where Gene had set his battery squarely on top of the intercom button.
"Oh," Gene says. "Sorry."
"That's okay," Val says. "Just next time be cognizant of your surroundings." She starts and turns toward her end of the lab. "And I like the Madonna, by the way. Much better than that Celine Dion crap you were playing yesterday."
"Thanks," Gene says. He quickly shuts the door.
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v.
Val was the one who set Gene and Denise up almost a year ago. "I called in a favor," Val said one day, and she grabbed Gene by the arm. "She's hot, she's single, and she's ready to mingle! And she just got dumped too, so she's in that special vulnerable place where guys like you can potentially score!"
"That's not a very nice thing to say," Gene said. Val blinks.
"Oh, sorry Gene, I didn't mean--"
"No, I wasn't talking about me, I was talking about your friend," Gene said. "She's probably not in a place to be dating right now. You shouldn't be forcing people on her."
Val raised her hands. "Fine, fine. Last time I try to do you a favor. It took me a long time to talk you up, too. You'd think you'd at least try it out..."
"Wait, you talked me up?" Gene asked.
"I told her you were this sweet, geeky guy who would never cheat on her or fuck her in the asshole," Val said.
"Thanks," Gene said.
"No really, you should meet her, she's gorgeous, look," Val said. She dug into her pockets and pulled out a picture. Gene took the picture in his hands.
"She's beautiful," Gene said. Val nodded.
"Hell yeah she is. And like I said, you're in that zone. Better take advantage of it now while you can."
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vi.
On their first date, Gene took Denise to a fancy Italian restaurant. They were seated on a terrace looking over the L.A. skyline. The sky was a muted orange; there were birds chirping and soft music filtering through the air. Gene remembers how Denise's skin looked, creamy and soft and completely kissable. But Denise's face was scrunched, she had been crying. "He cheated on me," Denise said. She looked up at him with sad blue eyes. "How can I trust anyone after that?"
Gene was never good at making conversation. He could talk ad nauseum about particles and waveforms and the quiet elegance of the universe that's spinning above them. But he didn't know what to say around normal people, so he just said what was on his mind.
"I would never hurt you," Gene said, and he brushed a hair out from her face.
It was the first night they made love.
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vii.
Denise stops by his laboratory, rubbing her arms uncomfortably. "How are you?" she asks. Gene nods awkwardly.
"I'm fine, and you?" Gene asks.
"I'm doing well," Denise says. Her gaze shifts to a spot on the floor.
Val claps Denise on the shoulder. "We should probably get going. We have that thing--"
"Right. That thing," Denise says. She smiles brightly. "See you later," she says. She bounds up the metal steps and whisks out the door.
Gene can't remember when they started feeling like strangers. He taps the intercom button and picks up the microphone. "Hey Mike, you there?"
Mike picks up his microphone. "Yeah, what's wrong?"
Gene stares at the microphone, running his thumb along the edge. "I was wondering, do you want to get a beer? I mean, if you don't already have plans...."
Gene listens to the static from the speakers. He looks up at the window, sees Mike's forehead scrunching. Mike reaches over and presses the button.
"I can't really go out tonight, I'm running an assay, I have to keep an eye on it," Mike says.
"Carpet mold?" Gene asks, and he realizes it's the wrong thing to say. Mike presses the button.
"Yeah, carpet mold. Not everyone has unlimited funding you know."
"Mike, wait--"
Mike clicks off the microphone. Then he bangs on the window and flashes Gene the finger.
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viii.
When Denise was happy, she smiled with her eyes. Gene liked to kiss her there, right in the creases at the corners. Her eyes would smile more and he would kiss her again. An infinite loop. Time would always seem to stop for him, then. Just Gene and Denise, kissing and hugging and looking into each other's eyes.
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ix.
Sometimes when Gene was with Denise, he couldn't keep his mind from wandering. He'd be kissing her neck and breasts when suddenly the contour of her shoulder would spark an idea, some untapped insight that Gene would have to write down, before he forgot. The bedroom was lined with yellow notebook paper, all ideas that popped up during the course of their lovemaking. Sometimes hours would pass before Denise would finally get up and get dressed, moving to the kitchen and looking out the window.
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x.
Gene remembers their first fight. He was working on the particle accelerator when Denise showed up at the door. It was midnight and Denise looked angry. Gene walked up the steps, then reeled backwards. She had been crying. She hugged herself tightly, staring at the floor.
"You were supposed to meet me," Denise said.
"I'm so sorry, I completely forgot--"
"You're always forgetting! I had to take the bus home. And what the hell is so important, now? You told me you would be there."
"I'm sorry, but I was in the middle of something important. It couldn't wait," Gene said.
"Important," Denise said.
"Yes, yes, very important," Gene said. Denise's eyes filled with hurt.
"I guess I'm not that important," Denise said, and she turned and walked away.
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xi.
Sometimes, Denise cried for no reason at all. Gene never knew what to do. He would run around blindly, like a hurt mother hen. "Tell me what to do," Gene would say. "Just tell me what to do to make you feel better." And Denise would cry harder, her shoulders wracked with sobs.
"You shouldn't have to be told!" Denise said, and it made Gene ashamed.
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xii.
When Gene finally figures out how to stop time, he overhears Denise talking about how she wants to break up with him. "He makes me feel lonely," Denise says, and Gene just wants to die. He never feels lonely when he's with Denise. Even when things weren't going well, just her proximity made him feel safe. Like he's a part of the rest of the world.
"You're going to give him the sympathy bone, aren't you?" Val says. Gene sinks to his knees, trying to keep calm. "It's gonna be dinner, sympathy bone, and adios Gene. I'm totally right, aren't I?"
Gene can picture Denise's face, that hurt, scrunched up look when she's about to cry. His mind blanks, and all he can think of is the way her eyes smiled when she was happy, and the soft wisps of red hair that fell around the nape of her neck.
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xiii.
It's their anniversary and Denise is planning to break up with him. It'll be dinner, sympathy bone, and adios Gene. But not if he can stop it. Gene can stop time now, he can make their love last forever. Gene unhooks his equipment and piles it into the back of his truck.
"All by myself. Don't want to be, all by myself. Anymore...."
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xiv.
The big anniversary dinner, which takes Gene all afternoon to prepare, is too awkward for words. It's just stilted conversation and awkward glances. "Is the pasta okay?" Gene asks, finally. Denise stares at her plate.
"It's good," Denise says. She pushes the noodles around with her fork.
They walk into the bedroom, where Denise quietly begins to undress. Her blouse slips down the soft curve of her shoulder and she stands in front of him expectantly, maybe a little nervously. Gene kisses her softly on the mouth, and he's met with resistance. She doesn't want to do this and neither does he. He thinks of what she said to Val in the park, and it's all he can do to keep from breaking down.
"Gene? What's wrong?"
Gene touches her face softly with his fingertips. "Nothing," he says, and he guides her toward the bed.
Gene's eyes begin to adjust to the dark. Barely, he can make out the black outline of the furniture in his bedroom, the metal gleam of his equipment winking back at him. A little desperately, Gene gathers her up in his arms and thrusts harder, sinking inside her while burying his face into her hair. He doesn't want to see her face, that blank look of stoic determination; he doesn't want to see her eyes, which squint and stare upwards at the ceiling. Gene feels her hands roaming over his back before clamping down on his hips, forcing him to move faster. Doubtless she wants it to be over. Gene screws his eyes shut and focuses on the warmth of her breath, the softness of her skin: if he concentrates hard enough, he can pretend she still loves him.
Denise's mouth pops open, and she takes in a gasp. He feels her on the verge of coming. Gene kisses her eyes and he thrusts harder. Quickly, he gropes the night stand, his fingers brushing against the switch. This will be forever, Gene thinks, and he closes his eyes.
Time stops at the moment of her orgasm, his own empty and agonizing completion not yet attained. It is supposed to be a moment of perfect happiness, and yet his last thought as his mind swam into darkness is only that of regret.
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xv.
When Gene comes, his soul shatters inside of her. Time was supposed to stop, it wasn't supposed to end this way. Slowly Gene pulls himself out from inside of her, avoiding Denise's eyes.
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xvi.
Denise wraps the bedsheet around her shoulders and sits up. Moonlight seeps through the slats in the blinds, and Gene can see the soft outline of her shoulders as she sits at the edge of the bed.
"Gene," Denise says, and she hitches the blanket around her tighter. "We need to talk."
Gene swallows. His eyes trace the pattern of the shadows on the wall, the darkness punctuated by even darker shades. Reflexively, Gene's mind begins to wander, counting the shapes and calculating the velocity of each movement, each tremor. Each breath and each touch and each beat of her dying heart.
Denise is speaking, but he hasn't been listening. Denise turns toward him and frowns.
"You're not going to say anything?" Denise asks.
Gene shakes his head. "I already knew," Gene says, quietly. Gingerly, Gene sits up and pulls on his clothes.
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xvii
There was one time they were happy. One time in particular. Gene had scribbled out his ideas on a piece of looseleaf notebook paper while Denise watched him and laughed, rubbing his shoulders. "You're my muse," Gene said, and Denise wrapped her arms around his waist.
"I love you," Denise said, and Gene kissed her softly, the ink on his fingers smudging the side of her arm.
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xviii.
After Denise leaves, Gene sits at the foot of the bed, staring at his equipment. It was supposed to work, why the hell didn't it work? His eyes rise and look out the window, searching for any signs outside. Signs for power failure, perhaps. But no, the digital clock isn't blinking 12:00. Gene cradles his head in his hands. He was so stupid, he should have thought it out more. Someone probably tripped over the plugs, Gene thinks, miserably. He rolls over and hugs himself, closing his eyes.
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xix.
When Gene comes back to the lab, he sees Mike staring at the whiteboard, his mouth hanging open. "You did it," Mike says. "Jesus Christ, I can't believe it, you did it. You can stop time!"
"Only theoretically," Gene says. He carries his equipment down the metal steps, leaning it against his hip. He sets the pieces down, arranging them on the table.
"Hey," Mike says. He tags along after him. "Hey, you wanna grab a beer? Maybe you can help me with my assay."
Gene hooks up the wires, then looks back at Mike. "Do you karaoke?" he asks. Mike looks stricken.
Gene shakes his head. "Nevermind," Gene says, and he plugs the wires back into the wall.
A/N: Fanfic based on the episode "Happy Anniversary." I absolutely adored the character and I wish there were fic out there. You can see his scenes here at www dot youtube dot com / watch?v=f1SXE-NH6Uc