Living A Dream

Summary: When Reba faints because of high blood pressure again, she wakes up in the past, months before the divorce and Cheyenne's pregnancy.

A/N: Hi, my name is Jenna, and I'm new to the Reba section. I've been watching the show for a while, but only got the idea for this story after watching the repeats on Lifetime. Just so you know, I'm a little fuzzy about Reba's life before the show, so if I the details aren't right or I make up something that conflicts with known facts, tell me.

January 2007

Why do these things always happen to me?

Reba hated to be cliché, but it was true. Why, dear Lord, was she constantly stuck listening to her ex-husband complain about his wife?

"…and it's like we're not in love anymore. Like we're just two people who happen to be in the same house," Brock was saying.

In the process of taking down Christmas decorations, Reba didn't even glance up when she replied, "Well, as much as I advocate you being in your house…"

"Reba!"

"Fine," she sighed, going over to sit next to him on the couch. "But seriously, Brock, maybe you should go away together or something. Rekindle your relationship."

Brock "You're not just saying that to get rid of us, are you?"

"No, but that's definitely a bonus," Reba retorted.

Thinking for a minute, Brock nodded. "You know, that's not a bad idea. There's this golf resort I've been dying to go to –"

"Somewhere for the both of you, you moron," Reba interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Why don't you go to a spa?"

"A spa? Really, Reba, could you get any less masculine…" Brock answered, giving her an incredulous look.

Reba raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you go to a spa with Van last year? At least this time you won't be mistaken for a gay couple."

"Oh, right, forgot about that. That was nice," Brock said, with a dreamy look on his face.

Reba patted his knee, then went back to taking down decorations. "Glad I could be of service. Why don't you go on home and start planning with Barbara Jean?"

"Do you think she'll want to do this?" Brock asked, suddenly overwhelmed with doubt. "I mean, the only thing that prevents us from arguing around the clock is the TV, and hotels don't have digital cable!"

"Trust me, she'll love the idea. If not, well, she'll say no but think you're sweet for suggesting it," Reba insisted.

"Yeah…" Brock trailed, off, watching Reba as she reached to take down a strand of garland. Horrified when he found himself noting the way her jeans hugged her bottom when she bent over a box of ornaments, he shook his head. It was dangerous to think of his ex-wife that way when he was having problems with his current one. Coming up with a change of subject, he inquired, "You need help with the decorations?"

"Nah, I think I've got it covered," Reba assured him. "Van was helping me earlier and we got a lot done."

Looking around, Brock asked, "Speaking of the kids, where are they?"

"Well, Van went out with Cheyenne and Elizabeth to pick up more stuff for the new baby," Reba answered. "Kyra's at band practice, and Jake is at a friend's house."

Brock had stopped listening after the words "new baby." "I can't believe Cheyenne's pregnant again! I hope it's a boy this time."

"Now, you know the rule – we're happy as long as the baby's happy and healthy," Reba admonished, then sighed when her eye fell on a picture of Jake that was on the table. "Though it would be nice to have a little boy running around the house again."

"There's Henry," Brock reminded her.

Picking up the picture for a brief second, Reba put it down before replying, "Yeah, I guess. But he's already getting so big. Plus the fact that I have to talk to Barbara Jean whenever I want to spend time with him."

"Oh, come off it, Reba. You've gotten used to Barbara Jean over the years," Brock argued.

Reba paused at that. She didn't want to admit it, but the annoying airhead had gotten on her good side. It was amazing, really. After the divorce, she never thought she'd ever be able to look at Barbara Jean without going into an angry rant. Now it was almost like they were the friends she always thought they were. Not best friends, of course – let's not push it, Reba thought with a smirk. "Yeah, I guess. It's just that sometimes I wish I never had to get used to her."

"You mean, if we never got divorced?" Brock asked, intrigued by the idea.

"Right. The divorce, Cheyenne's pregnancy…" Reba leaned on the couch, her mind wandering. Her gaze settled on the star on top of the tree. I should take that down next, she thought, making a mental note. "Sometimes I wish we were a normal family."

Brock was silent for a minute. "I don't think that would work. Our marriage was on a downward spiral even without Barbara Jean."

"True," Reba agreed. "And then there's Elizabeth. I wouldn't trade her for anything."

Brock nodded. "Me neither." He then saw her trying to reach the star. "You want me to get it?"

"Nope, I can do it," Reba insisted. When she couldn't reach, she stood on one of the dining room chairs. She made sure her feet were steady before grabbing the star. On her way down, however, she suddenly got very lightheaded. The room spinning before her, she slipped, the star falling out of her hand. She crashed to the floor, hearing Brock shouting her name before losing consciousness.