The door flew open, and Brodie plodded into his dressing room, exhausted. He managed to flop into the cheesy, green corduroy easy chair and swipe up the remote before his jaw went slack. The suit was annoying. He wanted to at least remove the jacket. For the moment, though, he didn't have the energy. He snuck in an audible sigh somewhere between flipping on the TV and getting it set to the WB.

And just as it hit that magic channel, the door swung open again, and Rene came in, shutting it quickly behind her. Brodie shut his mouth, a weak attempt to cover the visible signs of his exhaustion.

"Another one in the bag," Rene said with a hint of personal pride. "The producers said it was the usual genius."

"Yeah, usual being the operative word," Brodie said. Passion actually came out of his voice, rising above the weariness. His own life-loathing was clearly becoming one of the few things that got him worked up.

"Oh, cut that shit," Rene responded, only mildly annoyed. "You know they still love you."

"Love, shmove. It's all pedestrian now. What they feel is the kind of love one has for his hand when he's beating it. Amusement covering the boredom. It's just filling a void."

Rene rolled her eyes. "You're not filling a void."

Brodie finally glanced at her, looking away from the TV for a moment. "That's where you're wrong. Leno's early dropout left them with a void. I filled it."

"Fine," Rene said, relenting. "You're filling their void. So what? You're an excellent void-filler." She smiled coyly at him. "I should know."

Brodie managed to shoot a small smile back. "That's merely a minor encouragement, though. I'm really more worried about MY void."

Rene just cocked an eyebrow at him, suddenly confused and concerned. "Hey, I'm sorry, but I'm not exactly equipped to fill your void."

"That's not what I mean, Rene," Brodie muttered, exasperated. He looked her full-on, straight in the eyes. "Look. In The Dark Knight Returns, Bruce Wayne is old and retired and he's got it all. All the trappings that a fiftysomething socialite could possibly stand. He's still got his faithful Alfred, he's realized an honest friendship with Jim Gordon, and he's even taken a racing hobby on the side to satisfy his adrenaline lust. Yet even so, he's soon forced to accept that his is an empty existence."

Rene crouched down beside the chair, settling in. She put her hands on the arm of the chair. She'd heard these kinds of speeches before. "All right. Why?"

There was a moment of silence. Brodie stared. And then -

"WHY?!" Brodie gasped. "My god, lady, he's BATMAN! BATMAN can't live a peaceful life! Bruce ultimately has to accept that his life is a load of shit! That he's unsatisfied because his PASSIONS aren't being fulfilled! His lust for the sensation of swinging across the rooftops, beating on alley thugs, his inner NEED to be a creature of the fucking NIGHT!"

Rene sighed. "Okay. So... what? You want to beat your inner thugs or something?"

"Nothing so vaguely perverse," he answered calmly. "Fortune and glory has been good to me these past few years, but now, I thirst for something that fulfills my passion for comics and/or video games."

Rene just stared, suddenly speechless. "That's what this is about? COMICS?!"

Brodie turned to her momentarily, but his attention was immediately caught by a voice emanating from the nearby screen: "Previously on Buffy the Vampire Slayer... "

He nodded to her in acknowledgement, then turned to face the TV. "And with that," he said, "It's time for the Chosen One to once more battle to cleanse the world of vampires. This conversation is hereby postponed until after Angel."

Rene shook her head, remaining crouched. Her voice was raising gradually, her emotions getting the better of her. "Oh, no. You're not dropping that bomb on me and then retreating into a haven of leather-clad Sarah Michelle Gellars and... doe-eyed Alyson Hannigans!"

"Rene," Brodie explained patiently, "We've discussed this. Tuesday nights are my Buffy time. You're still the focus of my life, my inspiration, passion and all the rest of it, but sometimes a man's just gotta watch a chick kick the crap out of something."

"It's a RERUN!"

"It's not just A rerun," Brodie continued, "it's THE rerun. The episode where Oz is forced to confront the fact that Willow's tastes have shifted from sucking werewolf pole to munching witch rug."

Rene fumed. "I don't care if it's the one where Buffy, Willow and Anna - "

"Anya," he corrected her.

"-have a fucking THREESOME. You just told me you want to quit the Tonight Show, and I think that's a little bit more important!"

Brodie sighed. "Very well." He swiped up the remote and switched off the set. Then, he swiveled the chair to face her crouching form.

Before Brodie could begin, Rene jumped in. She slowed down now, pleading with him. "Brodie, do you really want to throw all of this away?"

"Throw what away? The salary negotiations for the past two seasons have more than set us up for life. We've got millions, Rene, and that's millions more than we actually need to live a full and happy life."

"So you want to retire before you reach the ripe old age of 30?" she said, disbelieving.

"Not retire. I want to... I don't know, move home, pursue something that's more to my interests."

By now, Brodie realized that this wasn't calming her down. He lowered his a tone a bit, aiming to calm her. "Listen. I'm not saying we have to do this. This isn't my decision to make. It's ours. If you want to keep on here, I'll do whatever I can to make the work more fulfilling for me. Write different kinds of jokes, do a — a skit about comics or something."

Rene managed to smile a little now. "The last time you tried a comic joke, the audience stared at you like stoners. Nobody knew what the hell a 'Spider-Clone' was."

"And that's my point," he responded, nodding. "I've often wanted my own show, and I've always dreamt of fame. I've gotten those things and I'm satisfied with the experience. Now I want to go do something that's centered more in the realm of my own interests. Maybe start up a gaming store, or a comic shop."

Rene sighed, still unsure. "I just don't know. I really love my work here, Brodie. I mean, what about the band?"

"Hell, take 'em with you," Brodie shrugged. "You're the leader, and your group is all friends now. I'm betting they'd go if you said the word. You can tour all over... whatever state we end up in."

Rene tilted her head. "Where did you have in mind?"

He looked down, unsure. "I dunno. Maybe back home, to Jersey or something."

"Jersey?!" Rene laughed. "The band would fucking own the music circuit out there."

"Exactly," he smiled. "You can be the star. Get even more of the adoration you crave. And I can easily corner the comics market, if I so desire."

Rene grinned. "Well... it's not a completely retarded idea."

"Hey... don't do anything you don't want to do. You say stay, we both stay. We're a team."

Rene paused. "No... I think I like it."

She smiled a little. Slightly surprised, he grinned back at her.

Putting her hands on his knees, Rene leaned forward, and kissed his lips lightly.

"You know," Rene said, still smiling, "You do have some okay ideas sometimes. For a retard."

They both chuckled softly. It was time for life's next step.