AN: BOB AND MADAME STORY WHOOP WHOOP
I was overwhelmed with a mass of Bobberry feels yesterday and this was the end result. I like it.
As usual, I don't own anything.
He never really understood how it got to be like this.
There was no denying that she was absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. She had men – and even some women - of all ages, shapes, and sizes drooling over her. Until they got to know her. She went on a lot of first dates. It only took one date for her vain and abrasive qualities to scare off who Bob considered the weak. After all, he could deal with her, no problem.
Or so he said. He was a lot of talk for someone who was seriously considering whacking her with a three inch binder. Well, it wouldn't be as bad as the time she threw a chair at him.
What were they even fighting about? How did it start? He honestly had no idea. But insults were being hurled and she was threatening to quit and in a way they were going through the motions. It happened every other day. But she just always managed to push all of his buttons.
Sometimes literally. She did love to get her hands on him in any way that she could. And he could never be sure if she was about to wring his neck or hug him. No matter which happened, he was always startled and always argued that he didn't do anything to deserve it.
But usually, it was like this. Her hands anchoring his to the desk to prevent movement, her face flushed red, her breath so close he could feel it against his nose, and as usual, she screamed the two words that would be devastating had he not known her as well as he did. "I quit!"
"You can't quit!" he cried back, as he always did. "You have a contract!"
What came next, however was not the usual route. "I'll call a laywer." She snarled.
Immediately, Bob's entire expression changed. "What?" he asked, his voice both conflicted and soft. "You're not…you can't be serious!"
The bottle blonde kept her voice dangerously even as she replied "Try me."
Bob stared at her in an absolute loss for words. This wasn't happening…this…this couldn't be happening! She literally threatened to quit at least twice a week. He never took her seriously. As a numbness set in trying to imagine a life without her, he then realized that maybe he should've. "I don't understand." He tried, his voice soft. "Why would you want to leave?"
Finally releasing his hands, she tilted her head back as she dramatically cried "I can't keep doing this, Robert!" Bob didn't even bother to correct her misnomer. "I'm getting far too old to fight for screen time. It's getting too tiring to fight like this all the time! Over everything!"
"So what I am supposed to do?" He asked. His voice was a little crankier than he would've liked.
She dropped her arms. She looked at her feet, then around the room, and then slowly, she sunk into the chair opposite his desk. It may have been the first time she ever bothered to use it. She ran a hand through her hair and stopped as her finger tips touched her tightly wound bun. Bringing her eyes up to meet his, she asked, her voice drained, "Do you want me to stay?"
His entire face became etched over in confusion. "Of course I want you to stay!" he cried. "You're a very talented actress with a wide range and a wealth of…"
He stopped as he noticed the look she was casting in his direction. Hazel eyes glaring, she snapped. "That's not what I meant and you know it."
"I…I know." He sighed, defeated. There was a pained expression on his face as he tried his best to explain. "I don't know what you want me to say!"
"I want the truth!" she cried, "I want a straightforward yes or a no and I want you to mean it. Look me in the eyes, give me an answer, and I won't quit." She challenged, her arms now crossed.
His jaw dropped in disbelief. It would be so easy. So, so easy. One little word and she'd be settled. The only issue – he still wasn't entirely sure of his answer.
He couldn't lie to himself any longer. He couldn't pretend that those dozens of moments behind locked doors didn't happen. He couldn't pretend that taste of her lips, the touch of her skin against his, the high pitched whimper she'd make, that those weren't all eternally etched into his brain. He couldn't pretend that even while on set, surrounded by everyone and the chaos they caused, that whenever she was around it was all he could think about.
But he also knew that this wasn't what being in love was supposed to feel like. They weren't supposed to argue over every little thing. They weren't supposed to have such clashing personalities. She constantly belittled and berated him, their arguments sometimes leaving serious emotional – an even physical (in the case of the chair) – wounds. He had always been told that when it's the one, you'd just know. And he didn't.
Staring at her now, however, he felt like he did know one thing. If she wasn't the one, he'd have a hard time finding her out there. Bob was the first to admit that relationships of the romantic nature were not his forte. After all, that's why he never…
Oh.
Oh.
And suddenly, like a snowball to the back of the head, it hit him. She was never the problem. She was always there. No matter what. No matter if he screamed in her face or simply rolled his eyes and called her a diva, she always stuck it out. He was the one running away. He was the one who was making things difficult. She was never the problem – it had always been him.
Taking her hands in his in a quick, desperate movement, he looked her straight in the eyes as he told her "I don't want you to stay."
"Thank you." She murmured quietly, her face doing a good job to mask her emotions. But he knew her. He could tell when she was acting.
"I don't think you understand." He tried, "I need you to stay. Heck, I just need you. I mean, you can be…" he paused, searching for the best term "…trying. But I need to be kept on my toes! And I can make bad decisions, and I needed to be reminded of that every once in a while! You're good for me, and I really don't know what I would do without you hanging around."
She snatched her hands away and headed to the door. His entire face fell. Did he…did he really mess things up this early?
And then, suddenly, he understood. With one graceful movement the door locked, and she turned to look back at him with a demeanor that Bob could only describe as sultry. He knew where this was going.
Moments later, she was on his lap, fingers tangling in the other's hair, smiles tugging on both their lips each time they parted for air.
He never understood how things got to be like this. He realized that he may never understand. But if this was the result, he decided he could be happy not knowing.