The house was quiet when Avery got there and he found Juliette in Cadence's nursery, both of them asleep in the convertible chair in the corner. For a moment he just stared, taking in the sight before him. Juliette had reclined the chair and Cadence was stretched out across her mother's chest, her small arms wrapped around her mama's neck. Avery hesitated at the doorway, wanting to commit the scene to memory. He crossed the room slowly, careful not to startle either one of them. "Hey, baby." He whispered the words and moved to touch her hand where it lay on the baby's back.
Juliette opened her eyes and blinked, squinting as she focused on him. "Avery," she said. "Hey. I guess I fell asleep. We kind of got marooned in the chair after Emily left."
"Here. Let me." He lifted Cadence from Juliette's chest, kissing her forehead before he put her in the crib. "Goodnight, baby girl," he said, gently brushing a hand over her wispy blonde hair.
"How'd that song work out?" Juliette asked, reaching for the crutches leaning against the wall.
"It didn't." Avery shrugged as he left the side of the crib to stand next to her. "It'll get there. We might work on it tomorrow."
"Yeah? Are you thinking of performing it soon?"
"Not particularly," he said. "Why'd you ask?"
She shrugged. "Just asking. I know you had a good show at Barista. I was just wondering if you might want to get out there again, sooner rather than later."
He inhaled at her words. That was an opening. Another chance to tell her about Billy Tucci. He could have and probably should have told her right after the show but he hadn't. And he hadn't in the days since then either. "I don't have any plans for that one right now," he said. "Other than finishing it." He kneeled so he could look her in the eyes. "Baby's asleep. Let's go watch a movie."
There was a flash of wariness in her eyes as she stared at him. She'd been like that since coming home, keeping her guard up as if she wanted to keep some measure of distance between them. He imagined that there was an ongoing war inside of her - a struggle as she tried to figure out whether to push him away or pull him closer. They were making steady progress on that front but sometimes, even now that they'd been intimate again, she'd bristle. Her guardedness was part of the reason he was reluctant to tell her about Billy. It was a fragile happiness they were managing and he didn't want to give her any more reason to think he was going to bail on her. He could wait a little longer, until she was better. Billy could wait. Avery took her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.
She softened at his touch. "Can I choose?"
"Yes." He nodded. "Anything other than Tommy Boy."
She laughed and winked at him. "You're no fun."
"I practically know it by heart, Juliette." He moved back so she could use the crutches to stand and he followed her as she headed for the door. "I'll get the popcorn," he said, turning off the light and closing the door partway.
"Hey," she turned around, leaning into her crutches as she faced him. "Do you mind if we watch in our room? The living room is so cluttered."
Avery nodded, watching her back as she slowly made her way down the hall. He wondered if she realized she'd referred to it as their room. That was the first time since he'd moved from the guest room and started sleeping with her every night.
She was already in bed when he got to the bedroom with a bowl of popcorn and two cans of her favorite flavored seltzer. "So what is it tonight, babe?"
"Hmm," She reached for the bowl of popcorn with one hand and continued pressing buttons on the remote with the other. "No comedy, so something scary?
He sat on the edge of the mattress and handed her a can of seltzer. "You hate scary movies."
She scooted, moving closer to his side of the bed. "I know but you're here."
That earned her a kiss. "I love you." Avery had found himself loose with the words since the crash. It was unlike him, or at least it had been. But almost losing her had changed everything between them and he needed her to know how much he cherished her.
The morning after they had made love for the first time he woke up with the words on his lips. She was quiet and withdrawn and it didn't take him long to figure out what that was about. He'd wrapped his arms around her and assured her that the sex had been perfect. Avery knew her well enough to know she'd worry about that but other than being careful not to do anything to cause her pain, Juliette's injury hadn't figured into their evening. It had been months for them and she was all Avery could think of. He took his time, putting her pleasure first while reacquainting himself with the voluminous catalogue of all he remembered about her - the silky slickness of her skin, the slight difference in the size of her breasts, the small mole to the right of her belly button and the noise she made when he entered her, somewhere between a groan and a growl. For him, it had been like going home.
Juliette settled on a movie and relaxed against his side. Avery pressed his lips to her forehead, the scar she sarcastically referred to as a crack in her shell. He reconsidered what he'd told Gunnar earlier. Head over heels didn't even come close to describing what he felt for her.
Gunnar paced the floor. He hadn't left the record room after Avery headed home. He'd stayed inside, not wanting to be inside the house waiting for Scarlett, ready to pounce as soon as she walked in. He didn't want to make her feel as if she owed him a synopsis of her entire night. But he wanted to know. He felt like he deserved to know.
It was just dinner, he kept reminding himself. But it wasn't. It was weeks of her simmering unhappiness and his growing uncertainty. It was her cleaning the house at all hours of the night, stalling so she didn't have to come to bed. It was that goddamn video that she could not stop gushing about after seeing it. She'd been almost star struck when she came home from viewing it, talking about the video as if shooting it had been a religious experience and Damien had laid hands on her, exorcising her inhibitions with an anointed hand. Hadn't happened that way as Gunnar remembered it. Scarlett had seethed for days after the shoot, telling both Will and Avery and probably her uncle too how unhappy she was with the director. She wouldn't talk to him about it.
"You were there," she'd said, angry at him for even bringing it up. "Let's just hope the fans like it."
The fans seemed to love it. So did Rayna and Bucky and Noel. Gunnar didn't hate the video, but he certainly did not love it. His ambivalence probably had a lot to do with how its creation had somehow managed to widen the rift between him and Scarlett. He had to admit, begrudgingly, that Damien was a skilled director. That was as much credit as he could give the guy.
But Gunnar knew he couldn't lay all their problems on Damien's door. Their relationship had been off for weeks but he couldn't pinpoint the single reason as to why. Scarlett hated their history and seemed to view it through a different lens than he did. And he knew that starting up with Autumn hadn't been his smartest move. He appreciated that she'd forgiven him for that. But he wasn't sure why she felt weak for taking him back or why she thought people would judge her for it as if he'd been purposely hurtful to her at some point. Gunnar felt as if the past was shifting like sand under his feet. The only sure thing he had to hold on to was the fact that he loved Scarlett and had always loved her. He didn't want to lose them before they really had a chance to get started again.
He heard Scarlett's car seconds before her headlights briefly illuminated the room as she pulled into the driveway. She was home, finally. Gunnar stopped pacing and sat down on the couch. He sipped the beer he'd been nursing for hours, the bubbles warm on his tongue as he swallowed. It shouldn't be like this, he thought.
The smell of Scarlett's perfume hit him when he walked in the door, swirling around him like a slack noose. She'd been wearing that same fragrance since he'd known her. He'd brought her a bottle of it when they lived together years before. It was fresh, floral and soft. It was her; the shy girl he'd befriended and encouraged, the one he'd fallen in love with. It was the scent of the woman he'd proposed to in an ill-fated bid to win her back. And since then the perfume had haunted him, absolutely torturing him when they were touring. He'd be on his stiff bunk, struggling to fall asleep and roll over only to be assaulted by the smell of her as it wafted through the cramped quarters.
It had been a sweet relief to finally be able to lose himself in her again and have the heady aroma lingering on his skin afterwards.
Gunnar followed the sound of her humming to the bathroom. He walked slowly, his feet dragging on the floor. She sounded happy. Even down the hallway he could hear a buoyancy in her hum that he had not heard in weeks. That was no coincidence. He frowned, realizing that just a few hours with Damien brought her joy when it seemed as if he no longer could.
He stopped in the doorway and leaned against the jamb, watching as she wiped at her face with a washcloth.
"There you are," she said, tossing him a glance before turning back to the mirror. "You and Avery still working on that song? I saw the light on back there when I pulled up."
"He's been gone a while."
"Oh," she didn't look away from the mirror, but flicked her eyes towards his reflection. "I thought it was strange I didn't notice his car on the street. How's he doing? And Juliette and the baby?" She rinsed the towel in the sink, twisting it as she squeezed the excess water out.
"Fine, I reckon. No complaints. Said he and Juliette have been going to church pretty regular."
She paused in the act of shaking out the washcloth. "Church and Juliette Barnes, huh? That's interesting. Certainly not two things I would have ever put together."
"Maybe she had an experience that changed her, Scarlett. Being in an airplane crash would probably do that for a person."
She met his eyes in the mirror, staring at him with that look she'd been giving him more and more often lately. He didn't know whether to classify it as extreme irritation or disgust. Whatever it was, any chance of them having a halfway decent conversation had been ruined. "I'm gonna jump in the shower now," she said, coming to the door. She didn't even wait for him to step back, just shut it in his face. The lock clicked into place, sounding like a small gun firing in his direction.
Well, he'd bungled that up. Gunnar ambled away from the door and headed towards the bedroom to prepare himself for the inevitable. Far too many nights now this would be their routine: he'd already be in bed by the time she finished showering. When she finally came to the room they'd lay facing opposite walls, no words spoken to bridge the growing gulf of space between them.
AN: I am hesitantly leaving this open depending on what happens in 508. I felt that the scene between Avery and Gunnar should have been in 507 but this was meant to be a one shot. We'll see. I'd love to know what you think!
Update: Based on 508, I'm going to end this story here. It was only meant to be a short story exploring a missing scene from 507. I don't want to continue writing anything to do with Scarlett and Gunnar after their breakup.