A/N: I'm so, so, so, SO sorry for not updating as quickly as I usually do…my only excuse is that life has that pesky way of getting freaking BUSY sometimes. I am REALLY going to try and get better…truly. I hope everyone had a great week and I have a feeling that this chapter is going to be rather fluffy, hope nobody minds! Enjoy!
Four Times Too Many
Chapter Twenty Five
"Change the channel," Joe said for the third time from his place on the couch.
"No," Frank answered also for the third time. He relaxed even further into the loveseat, just as comfortable in Joe's apartment as he was in his own house.
"This show is stupid," Joe said and crossed his arms over his chest, "and if you won't let me go to sleep then I should at least be able to pick what we watch."
"I'm not Vanessa," Frank spared a glance for his brother and turned the volume up, "we're watching this."
Joe groaned and lifted a hand to cover his eyes, "are those two rhino's doing it?"
"No Joe, they're fighting," Frank said in a voice that suggested he was talking to someone very, very young.
"Fighting?" Joe peeked through his fingers, "like, actual fighting?"
"Yes Joe, like actual fighting," Frank shook his head and turned his attention back to the TV.
"Whoa!" Joe cried and immediately regretted the loud noise as it sent a sharp pain through his head. He recovered quickly however and continued, "Did you see that? I mean, did you see that?" Joe pushed himself up a little to get a better view of the TV. "That rhino just totally slammed into the other rhino! This is better than WWE!"
Frank laughed, "I guess. If you think watching two powerful creatures fighting for dominance in a particular area to the death is better than watching choreographed fights between two bad actors."
Joe narrowed his eyes at Frank, "sometimes there are three bad actors."
Frank laughed, "My mistake."
Joe settled back down on the couch to watch the fight, becoming intrigued by the moves each rhino used. He was amazed to discover that each rhino seemed to have its own fighting style and techniques.
The scene changed suddenly and the screen was filled with a close up of a baby rhino standing next to its mother. They moved slowly toward a watering hole, taking their lazy time. "What?" Joe spluttered, "What happened to the fight! Who won? I was rooting for the one with the scar!
"The one with the scar?" Frank repeated.
"The one on the left!" Joe said starting to get worked up, "hey! Discovery Channel! Go back to the fight!"
"The fight's over Joe," Frank said and sat up, "it ended."
"It did?" Joe narrowed his eyes, "when?"
"The rhino with the scar died," Frank explained.
"What?" Joe pushed himself up into more of a sitting position, ignoring his throbbing head.
"If you had been listening to the narrator you would have heard that," Frank rolled his eyes.
"Huh," Joe grumbled but didn't say anything else. The brother's looked at the door when they heard a key scrape in the lock. Vanessa came rushing through a few moments later and Joe's face brightened considerably, "babe!" he cried.
"You sound healthy," Vanessa said with a sunny smile and Joe's face immediately fell.
"Er," he deliberately injected suffering into his voice, "well, you know. It hurts."
Frank laughed and stood up, "I don't think I can watch this. I'll leave Joe in your capable hands Vanessa. You've treated his concussions before."
"Many, many times," Vanessa said with a shake of her head.
"Call if you need anything," Frank said and gave Vanessa a quick hug. Looking down at his brother he added, "And try not to be too pathetic," he shook his head and then grew serious, "I'm glad you're alright bro."
"Thanks, me too," Joe replied, "and you be careful, John has some messed up ideas about you."
Joe and Vanessa watched Frank leave before Vanessa looked down at Joe and sighed, "Are you okay?" she asked. From her perch on the edge of the couch she gently brushed his newly grown out hair off of his forehead, exposing the nasty bump and bruise already forming.
"Yeah, I'm okay," Joe smiled, "thanks for being here."
"Of course," Vanessa smiled and leaned forward to place a light kiss on the edge of the bruise. "Now, how are we going to keep you from falling asleep?"
"I've got an idea," Joe waggled his brows suggestively.
Vanessa laughed but otherwise ignored him, "what about a game of Uno? Go fish? War? Parcheesi?"
"Do we even own Parcheesi?" Joe asked.
"No," Vanessa replied, "but if you really wanted to play it I'd be willing to knock on every one of our neighbor's doors until I found one who did own it."
Joe laughed out loud and then winced when the sound and movement upset his head, "ow," he muttered.
"Joe," concern shown in Vanessa's eyes, "have you taken anything?"
"No," Joe grimaced, "Nurse Ratched wouldn't let me."
"Well, let's see how you do with some now," Vanessa stood up and soon returned holding a deck of cards, two pills and a glass of water. "Take," she ordered and handed Joe the pills and the glass of water. When he had finished she sat down and began to deal out the cards, "now I'm going to take advantage of your current mental fragility and beat the pants off of you in Slap Jack."
Joe scoffed, "yeah right."
"Watch me," Vanessa said and smiled as she flipped over her first card.
"Damn it!" Maggie cursed and brought her smarting thumb up for inspection.
"What happened?" Dawn called from her office.
"Nothing, just caught my thumb between the wall and this load of dishes," Maggie answered angrily. She slapped her palm against the wall as if to show it who was boss. Without saying anything else she stomped out of the back room to wait on her tables.
"Hello Maggie, how are you today?" Dorcas Hayworth was a regular at the café and Maggie had grown very fond of the outspoken woman. Today however, Maggie's mood was dark and the sight of the woman in one of her gaudy hats didn't have the usual cheering effect on her.
"Fine," Maggie replied and the curt response had Dorcas raising an eyebrow but she didn't have time to say anything because Maggie quickly continued, "your usual table?" Without waiting for a response she sailed toward the table Dorcas usually preferred. Setting the menu down she said, "Would you like to hear the specials?"
Dorcas waited until she was seated and had removed her hat before she replied. She folded her hands on top of the table and inclined her head to stare at Maggie, her gaze cool. "I can read the specials on the board just as I have been able to read them for years. What I would like to know is why you are taking your foul mood out on your customers whose happiness depends on the size of your tip."
Completely flabbergasted Maggie could only gape at Mrs. Hayworth in shock. Finally finding her voice she stuttered, "I…I'm sorry."
Dorcas waved off the apology, "sit," she ordered and indicated the seat across from her.
"I-I don't think I can," Maggie glanced toward the back room, "I'm supposed to be working."
"You will sit," Dorcas said again, "and if Dawn has a problem with that then you can direct her to me and I will remind her gently how difficult my English class was for her in the ninth grade. Sit," she said again.
Seeing no other choice Maggie slowly sank down in the chair opposite Mrs. Hayworth. "Now," Dorcas wiped her hands as if clearing them of dirt, "you can explain to me just why you are in such a foul temper."
"I don't really know why," Maggie said and shrugged.
"I was an English teacher for thirty seven years young lady; I know when I'm being lied too." Dorcas leaned forward, "tell me why a man has you in such a hissy fit."
Maggie sighed and soon found herself relaying her entire history with Biff, from their first meeting in the café to the events of the day. When she was finished she let out a long breath, "and now I'm just plain mad. At first I was hurt and upset and confused, but now I'm just mad!"
"Good for you girl," Dorcas slapped a hand on the table decisively; "getting mad proves that The Man We Don't Speak Of didn't break you. Now stay mad and go give Biff Hooper a piece of your mind."
"I can't do that," Maggie said and shook her head, "really he hasn't done anything wrong. He's been nothing but kind and caring toward me." Dorcas shook her head and was about to say something when Maggie continued, "besides, I don't get off for another hour."
"That's perfect!" Dorcas exclaimed, "It gives you plenty of time to work up the mad, indignant speech you'll blast him with as soon as he opens the front door. You go for it Maggie, you've been without a voice for far too long."
Maggie let those words sink in and she slowly nodded, "you're right. I have been without a voice." She looked up at Dorcas and smiled, "thank you."
"You're welcome," Dorcas nodded and then tapped her fingers on the table, "I'll start with tea."
Maggie stood up, "honey?"
"Naturally."
Maggie stood at the end of the walkway leading up to Biff's house and gathered herself together. Oh, she was angry all right and if she let herself stop to think about it, she wouldn't really know why. All she knew was that she was sick of having decisions made for her and Biff was the latest in a long line to start doing that to her.
She squared her shoulders and marched up the walkway and onto the porch. She restrained herself from pounding and knocked politely on the front door. After a minute and no response Maggie started to grow impatient on top of her anger. She knocked again, this time a little more briskly.
Thirty seconds after that Maggie let out a low growl and turned to check the driveway again. Seeing Biff's truck right where it had been when she arrived she turned and pounded an angry fist on the door. "Biff Hooper open this door!"
"I'm coming!" was the angry reply from inside the house.
Maggie fisted her hands on her hips, fully prepared to give Biff the tongue lashing of his life as soon as he opened the door. When he did however her mouth dropped open and she rushed forward, not to smack some sense into him as she had previously thought but to lay gentle hands on his arms, "Biff!" she cried and he grimaced at the sound of her voice.
"What do you want?" Biff asked and leaned against the door jamb. He was bent over from the pain in his ribs, unable to stand up straight and there was a huge bruise on one half of his face, his eye swollen shut and purple.
"Oh my," Maggie reached up and brushed a hand across his forehead, pushing his hair aside to inspect the bruise, "are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Biff jerked his head out of her reach and repeated the question without looking at her, "what do you want?"
"I…" her reasons for coming over were momentarily forgotten as she was taken aback at his rude tone, "I came over to yell at you," she said finally.
Biff scowled, "well, would you mind coming back tomorrow? I'm a little busy right now."
Turned off by his coldness Maggie was about to give in and do as he asked. She was half turned to leave before she stopped, "no," she said slowly and turned back to face him, "no, I will not go away." She pushed his door open further and walked past him into the entryway.
She looked around and noted the two pairs of shoes kicked off in the corner, the jacket hanging over the banister and the plant that was about to die on a little table in the entryway. It was what she thought of as bachelor clean and she nodded her head in approval.
Biff watched her from the doorway, still leaning against it and breathing heavily from the exertion of answering it in the first place, "Does it pass inspection?"
"It'll do," she said briskly and turned to face him, "stop being so grouchy, it's unattractive on you." She walked to his side and lifted his arm around her shoulder noticing his grimace at the movement. "Where's the living room?"
"Straight back, to the left," he mumbled and leaned on her heavily as they made their way toward the back of the house.
When they reached the large room Maggie stared at couch which was covered in laundry, "where were you lying down before I got here?"
"I was sitting in the chair," he pointed toward the Lazy Boy perfectly placed with the best view of the flat screen TV.
"You were sitting?" Maggie shook her head before he could answer, "don't answer that. Stay here," she left him leaning on the wall and rushed forward to gather the laundry up and dump it on the big easy chair.
"I did laundry last night, I meant to fold it today," Biff grumbled to explain the large pile.
"You know, a lot of us actually do it all at once, that way it gets done in one day," Maggie finished moving the laundry and came back to help him to the couch. She propped the pillows behind him and looked on in concern when he hissed in pain from his protesting ribs. "Where's your ice bag?" she asked looking around.
"In the freezer," Biff replied out of breath.
"In the freezer, why is it there?" Maggie asked.
"Because, that's where it stays frozen," Biff replied and closed his eyes in pain. Maggie pursed her lips and frowned, what had the man been doing to take care of himself before she got here? She went to the kitchen and found the ice before wrapping it in a kitchen towel she deduced was fairly clean.
She walked back to the couch and crouched down beside him, his eyes still closed, "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Why?" Biff answered keeping his eyes closed, "what do you have to be sorry for?"
Maggie shrugged but didn't answer, she just reached up slowly and began to unbutton Biff's shirt. He grabbed her wrist quickly and sounding shocked asked, "What are you doing?"
"Inspecting your injuries," Maggie replied and continued to unbutton his shirt, "I was going to school to be a nurse before…" her voice trailed off, "well, before. I'd like to know if your ribs are broken or just badly bruised." Her sharp intake of breath gave him a pretty good idea of what his chest and stomach looked like, "Oh Biff. I really am so sorry."
He opened his eyes then and all of his embarrassment and anger melted away as he saw the tears welling up in her eyes, "hey," he said and lifted a hand to brush his knuckles across her cheek, "hey, I'm fine."
She nodded her head and took a deep breath, "I'm sorry, this is going to hurt." She pressed her fingers lightly along his ribs and regretted his gasp of pain, "it looks like they aren't broken but it probably wouldn't hurt to bind them up."
"No," Biff gasped, "no they're fine. Just ice."
"Okay," she drew his shirt closed and gently laid the ice on his ribs where she knew the worst of the bruising was located. "Have you taken anything?" Biff shook his head and Maggie sighed, "Where is it?"
"Down the hall on the left," Biff grimaced and this time not from pain, "and if you wouldn't mind closing your eyes and not looking at anything, that would be great."
"It can't be that bad," Maggie replied.
"Oh yes it can," Biff mumbled when Maggie was out of earshot. A few moments later Maggie returned with a bottle of pills and a glass of water. She watched as he took the medicine and then sighed.
"Do you want some ice for your face?" Maggie asked.
"No," Biff replied and leaned his head back on the pillows. Unsure of what to do Maggie wiped her hands on her jeans and sat on the edge of the coffee table. "Go ahead," Biff murmured.
"Go ahead what?"
"You came here to yell at me," Biff replied, "and now that I don't feel like I'm going to die, go for it."
"I'm not going to yell at you Biff," Maggie sighed and grabbed a shirt off the top of the pile of laundry.
"What are you doing?" Biff asked horrified.
"Folding your laundry," she said simply.
"I can see that but…but…there are…you know…things in there," Biff stuttered.
Maggie shot him a pitying glance, "I've seen underwear before, Biff."
"Yes but not…mine," Biff finished weakly.
"If it makes you feel better I will politely skip over any embarrassing garments," Maggie said and reached for a pair of jeans. She folded them neatly and set them next to the shirt on top of the coffee table. Biff watched her for a few moments folding his clothes and let himself fantasize about an entirely different relationship between the two of them.
Not able to stand it anymore he reached out and stopped Maggie from reaching for another shirt. "Don't," he murmured.
"Don't what?" she asked.
"Just," Biff sighed, "don't. I'll do it later."
"Okay," Maggie laid her hands in her lap, "well I guess I should get going then."
"Did you walk here from the café?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll drive you home," he started to struggle to a sitting position and she gently pushed him back down.
"Don't be ridiculous," Maggie shook her head, "I've just gotten you settled down. Driving me home isn't going to help."
"You can't walk," Biff said.
"I can," Maggie said her temper starting to rise, "just as I've done for years and years and years."
"You shouldn't be walking alone by yourself at night Maggie, it's not safe," Biff replied.
"I'm not the one bruised and bloody lying on the damn couch!" Maggie said and leapt to her feet, "what is wrong with you?"
"I'm your friend Maggie; I care about what happens to you. Walking home alone in the dark right now is stupid. I'll call Frank or Nancy to come and get you," he reached for the phone on the coffee table but stopped when Maggie spoke.
"Don't you dare touch that phone Biff Hooper," Maggie's voice shook with anger. Biff's eyebrows raised in shock as he stared at Maggie who began to pace around his living room.
"Maggie I…" Biff began but she cut him off.
"Don't speak," she said holding up a hand, "I get to talk. You're no longer allowed to dictate the direction this relationship is going. I like you!" she all but yelled it; "I really, really like you." She threw up her hands in exasperation, "who in the hell knows why!" She paced around the room some more and Biff followed her with his eyes completely speechless.
"I never thought I could feel this way about someone and I won't say again because it was never like this with John…so…so…infuriating!" she turned to face him her cheeks flushed with her agitation, "don't get me wrong, I appreciate everything you've done for me, protecting me and taking care of me, but…seriously! You can't make me feel these things and want something I know I shouldn't and then just…change your mind!" She threw her hands up again in frustration.
She pointed an angry finger at Biff, "and you know something? I can walk anywhere I damn well please and take care of myself. I'm leaving," she grabbed her jacket where she had laid it across the back of the Lazy Boy. She turned to face him again before she left the room, "keep the ice on for another fifteen minutes and no more pain pills for at least an hour and half. I'll lock the door on my way out," and with that she practically sailed out of the room.
Biff could do nothing but stare after at her open mouthed as she left the room. "Huh," was all he could say. It took him a moment before he reached over and grabbed the phone off the coffee table. It rang once before the line was picked up, "Frank, it's Biff. Maggie just left my house and she's walking," He listened to Frank's reply, "thanks. Yeah, I'm better. Okay, bye."
He set the phone back on the coffee table and closed his eyes. He had a lot to think about.