"Reba!" Reba Hart cringed when she heard Barbara Jean's voice from her kitchen. "Reba, Reba, Reba! Are you ready?"

Reba rolled her eyes and walked into the kitchen, "Can I ask one more time how I was talked into going on vacation with you and my ex-husband?"

"Oh, Reba," Barbara Jean said with a condescending smile. "Stop whining. Of course you have to go. And it's not just me and Brock. Cheyenne and Van will be there too. It's so all of us adults can get away and relax without the kids."

"You mean a chance for me to be a fifth wheel," Reba muttered.

"Oh, come on," Barbara Jean wheedled. "It's not like you would have that much trouble getting a man if you wanted one. But you always dress in those jeans and long sleeve t-shirts, which is fine when you're home playing mom, but don't you think you could wear something a little...prettier?"

Reba gritted her teeth, "Barbara Jean, if you want me to get in your car, don't give me any advice!"

"Fine," Barbara Jean trilled, "I'll go ahead and round everybody else up; you grab your bag."

Reba sighed when Barbara Jean left. She knew that, as much as it infuriated her, Barbara Jean was right. The only problem was what Barbara Jean didn't know: Reba didn't want to find a new man, she was still very much in love with her ex-husband. She still cried herself to sleep some nights and it still hurt to see Brock and Barbara Jean together. The worst part was that she could swear Brock still loved her too. She knew he did what he thought was right when he married Barbara Jean. Their marriage was on the rocks and he cheated on her, only once--she knew that, and Barbara Jean got pregnant. Then everything happened so fast that it was hard to stop, and now they all felt locked into their roles.

Reba walked into her bedroom, catching sight of her open duffel bag and all the conservative clothes she had packed. She never dressed sexily, but she did have some more feminine clothes. After a moment's thought, Reba quickly pulled her less formfitting shirts and looser jeans out of her bag, replacing them with a few sundresses and close fitting shirts. She told herself she didn't remember that Brock loved her in sundresses while she grabbed a couple more out of the back of her closet.

Finally packed, Reba changed into a cream colored dress with a light floral print. She felt the hem of the dress brush the top of her knees and she smiled, walking downstairs. When she walked outside and tossed her bag in the back of the van, Reba heard a sharp intake of breath and turned around to find Brock staring at her with slightly darkened eyes. Reba's breath caught and her heart beat faster when she caught Brock's gaze. She was lost in memories of what used to happen when Brock gave her that look until Barbara Jean's voice pierced her reverie, "Oh Reba, you look so pretty!"

Reba rolled her eyes, "Just for you, Barbara Jean. Now let's go."

Everyone piled into the van, with Cheyenne sitting in the back with Barbara Jean, the two of them insisting that they needed "girl talk" time, and Van spreading across the middle seat to sleep, leaving Brock driving and Reba in the front, which suited them fine. Brock handed Reba the map and told her where they were going and she quickly settled into her old role of navigator, softly giving Brock directions. She thought about the few trips she'd been on with Brock and Barbara Jean and the way he'd never let Barbara Jean give him directions, insisting that she would just get them lost. Reba tried to ignore the warm feeling she got from Brock's acceptance of her directions and just turned the radio on, letting herself drift off to sleep once she felt Brock could find his way for a while.

Two hours into the drive, Reba woke to the feeling of Brock's hand on hers. She carefully opened her eyes, trying not to let anyone know she was awake. She could see the back of the car out of the corner of her eye, and she saw Cheyenne and Barbara Jean leaned against each other sleeping, while Van had moved only to shift positions. Reba felt Brock's hand shift on hers, moving to hold it, and she let her fingers curl around his, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep again with a slight smile on her face.

The next time Reba woke, Barbara Jean was awake and asking for a different radio station. Cheyenne chimed in to agree, and Van groaned. Reba felt Brock's hand slipping out of hers subtly and she knew he didn't think she was awake yet so she kept her eyes closed and let her hand passively open, noticing that Brock had shifted the arm rest so their linked hands couldn't be seen from the seats behind them. When Brock shifted the radio to a pop station and Barbara Jean started singing along, Reba made a show of waking up and cringing, "What moron decided on this music?"

Brock laughed softly, "BJ requested it, honey."

The whole car froze for a moment, replaying Brock's sentence in their minds. Cheyenne and Van looked at each other with wide eyes, both trying to avoid eye contact with Barbara Jean, who was looking back and forth between Reba and Brock. His tender tone wasn't too surprising; when they thought no one was listening, Brock and Reba were often gentle with each other, but the endearment and gentle tone together was too big of a slip to ignore. Reba thought quickly, trying to think of something to say before anyone called Brock on his lapse, because she didn't want to face a conversation about it, "Okay, Barbara Jean, answer me this: What kind of self-respecting adult woman knows the words to a Britney Spears song!"

Everyone laughed, breaking the tension, and Barbara Jean jumped in to defend herself, "I like it. It's got rhythm!" And with that she started to sing along, "Give me a siiiiiiiiign, hit me baby, one more time!"

Cheyenne joined in with the song, causing Reba to groan and hit her head on the window. Brock chuckled and turned the radio up, "What's the matter, Reba," he called, "Can't take the beat?"

Reba glared at Brock, "Shut up, you! I know you don't like this 'music' any more than I do!"

Reba caught sight of Barbara Jean behind her, pretending not to hear, but leaning forward to listen to Brock's answer. Reba guessed that Brock let Barbara Jean listen to whatever she wanted, so much so that she had no idea what Brock really liked. Reba thought back to the first months she dated Brock, the arguments they had over the radio. They finally learned that they both liked country and soft rock for road trips, but they got to know a lot about each other along the way. Reba realized that Brock and Barbara Jean didn't really know each other at all, and she wondered what kept their marriage going. Reba kind of regretted putting Brock on the spot, but she didn't say anything to change the subject; she wanted to hear his answer.

Brock shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Barbara Jean in the rearview mirror, "No, I don't. But BJ does." Brock's spoke quietly; he was hoping it wouldn't carry, but the falter in Barbara Jean's singing showed that it did.

Reba nodded, "Fair enough," and leaned back in her seat, staying silent until it was time to give Brock the next direction.