this ultraviolet morning light below

What a morning.

The bright sunlight beaming in would make anyone believe that the epic snowstorm had all been an illusion. Looking out of the window, the city below is covered in a glistening white blanket, and the sun can be as unseasonable as it likes but it's going to take some time for it to melt away. She's glad; it's too pretty to disappear just yet.

She woke up not too long ago, face smushed against the pillow, neck a little sore. The calm quiet of the room was a definite change from the usual chaos. The blue walls were certainly different from the blush pink. She wondered if she'd ever be able to see that shade again without feeling a wild fluttering in the pit of her stomach, along with another kind of sensation a little lower south.

The answer was a resounding no.

She wasn't naive enough to think about whether the night before had been a dream. Sure, some parts of it were incredible, like something out of a movie. If it had been a dream, she would have seen to it that the ending would have been entirely rewritten.

It's not that she isn't still hurt or confused or a little bit angry. She's thankful for the blizzard, not just because it's made everything look like the most magical of picture postcards. If it hadn't trapped her on the street without a hat or umbrella and any logical way of making it home, then who knows when she would have seen Lenny again? It could well have been weeks, more likely months. She didn't want to consider moving into the category of years, but knowing herself like she knew herself and with everything he'd said to her…

It wasn't even what he said, but the way he said it. She'd never heard his voice raised like that, the raw disbelief and indignation etched upon his face. She had really wanted to tell him who the hell he thought he was, talking to her that way, given everything he stood for. Everything he was. He didn't give her a chance, relentless as ever. She was glad of it now, because she'd needed to listen. To him, especially. If it was anyone else, Susie or Papa, it would have washed over her; she would have found a million different excuses.

She could still see the tears in his eyes. Something she thought he was invincible against. How fucking ridiculous of her. His voice cracking as he walked away from her. The words playing on a loop in the back of her head, echoing louder than they did in that grand, empty auditorium. I swear…you will break my fucking heart.

She was not going to do that. She could not be held responsible.

If it had been a perfect night, weather-wise, she knew she would have ended up here. In his hotel room. In his bed. In his arms. True, they still probably wouldn't have done what she really wanted to. What she would never stop wanting, not now she knew exactly how good it felt to have him kissing her, touching her, inside her. Good was nowhere enough to describe everything that had come to life within her body and soul after that night. Maybe they would have fought even worse. Maybe she would have cried in his arms for hours rather than minutes.

She sure as fuck could not predict how anything was going to go, that much was true.

She'd been certain of a lot of things up to a few nights back, including who Lenny Bruce was. She realized now that he wasn't the same man she really had put up on a pedestal since before they even really knew each other. Not different, either. Just messy and more complicated than she'd ever allowed herself to contemplate. It wasn't just about the contents of the bag. She knew now that whatever was in there had been around a little while. Certainly on the night she'd scraped him off the street and brought him back to her apartment, listening to him say the sweetest things about her that he had no recollection of the morning after. It couldn't be that bad, could it, not when he'd been so soft and sincere and treated her so well?

It was fine, because she was messy and complicated too, in some ways that were the same and some that were completely different. But their messy and complicated could meet and fit together, the parts that didn't match smoothing down over time until they did click into place. She didn't want to do this alone.

She needed him, and she had a feeling - stronger now than ever before - that he needed her just the same.

Otherwise she wouldn't have ended up here, standing in his hotel room, dressed in his shirt that even though it had been laundered and pressed (almost as good as Zelda did it) still smelled unmistakably of him.

He emerged from the bathroom, curls all the more prominent as he rubbed his hair with a towel. Another one was tied around his waist. She wasn't sure which one of them looked more surprised, and she smiled to find him throwing his gaze to the floor for a few seconds, which gave her the time to compose herself.

"I thought you might still be sleeping," he said, throwing the towel he was using on his hair onto the end of the bed.

"The sun put an end to that."

"That inconsiderate bastard."

She smiled, wanting to say that she didn't mind getting up so much when he wasn't there next to her.

"It's all yours," he pointed in the direction of the bathroom.

Her attention was still very much on the towel that she wished he wasn't wearing.

"I gotta make some calls," she replied, "home first, and then Susie to let her know that the manifesto is officially over. Though she's definitely gonna hate me for calling so early, I'm hoping that what I've got to say will win out."

"Who could possibly stay mad at you?"

She felt her face settle into an expression very like one she'd worn the first time she had been in this room. He answered her with a smirk, her eyes following him as he moved to get fresh clothes from the wardrobe, copies of his usual uniform.

Before she could be tempted to follow him, she moved to the phone. Mama answered to say that everything was fine with the kids, as much as she was able to decipher between talk of matchmaking connections. It was good that Mama was excited about something again; perhaps it would make things easier between them now they both had work to focus on.

Onto Susie, and she felt full of nerves waiting for her to pick up the phone. She'd bypassed the office, knowing that Susie wouldn't be there until a little before noon. As expected, she was met with what the fuck are you calling for at this time?, quickly to be followed by about fucking time when she said it was no to no opening acts and yes to any acts at all. She said she'd be over at half past noon to go through everything, deftly sidestepping the question Susie had as to what in the hell had changed.

Some kind of divine revelation? She wasn't too sure what he'd make of that.

"What do you say to breakfast?" Lenny said when she got off the phone. She was more than a little disappointed to find him fully dressed, aside from tie and jacket. "I'm ashamed to say I haven't taken full advantage as yet, and seeing as it's my last morning as Mr. Bruce, and I'm in the right kind of company, the stars all seem aligned."

"I say that I'm gonna leave my corset off for a little while longer."

He refrained from saying anything more, only smiling as he folded up the towels. All she could seem to think about was how many times she'd mentioned the word friend the night before. Of course she was happy that they were still friends, after the night that had just gone and the one before that. Yet the more she thought about it, the more she knew for certain that she didn't want to just be friends with him. She'd spent so long convincing herself it couldn't be possible, believing thoughts that seemed so stupid now - that he didn't see her like that, that it wouldn't work, that they were better off not breaking the bond that they'd forged.

It's not that they couldn't go back. Everything now was about going forward. She'd misread that billboard in the midst of the storm, but it still made a pretty good point. One that was sticking with her.

She got a shower, luxuriated in the heat and very fancy soap. She put on her underwear, minus the corset for now, and the robe that she'd changed into the night before, knowing that it was clean enough. By the time she went back into the room a veritable feast of breakfast food was laid out on the table, Lenny getting up from where he sat and teasing, with a clean towel folded over one arm.

"We are never gonna finish all of this."

"That sounds like a challenge, Ms. Weissman. How would we ever live it down amongst our people if it got out that we were even contemplating refusing good food?"

"My former in-laws would definitely have a few things to say. My own mother, too, come to think of it."

"The emphasis on the word former." He handed her a plate as she looked down the length of the table, not sure where to start. The grumbling of her stomach had a few suggestions. "This isn't all that different to a regular morning at the Weissman residence, from what I can recall."

"Ah, but here I don't get to burn off the calories immediately by chasing after a money-eating son and a daughter with a penchant for peeing on the wallpaper no sooner than I'd taken my last bite of bagel."

"I thought she'd grown out of that?"

"There was an isolated incident last week. I managed to cover it with half a bottle of Chanel No. 5. Otherwise, it's all up from here."

"Like mother, like daughter."

She laughed at the remark, which felt good.

They made a valiant attempt with the vast assortment, Midge feeling more relaxed than she had done for a while - at least, excluding the afterglow of any blue activities. She was glad, too, to see Lenny genuinely enjoying what he was eating. She hadn't been able to shake off the worry that he had dropped too much weight in the past few months, even though he'd more than proved his stamina, and those arms of his were just the perfect amount of muscular.

"I know it's fine, but I still feel bad," she said, tearing a croissant in two, offering out the other half to him.

"Hey, I got through a two-hour set without any sign of the cops waiting at the side of the stage. At Carnegie Hall, no less. I'm just glad you didn't turn out to be in a very elaborate, if disarmingly beautiful, disguise."

He was back to joking now, but she was still thinking about what he'd said. How he didn't want any of the controversy, everything that was actively harming his career. He just wanted to make people laugh.

"Then you had to come back here and deal with me. Didn't think I'd be doing the other kind of blue thing in this very blue room."

"Now you got the full set."

"Which is what I always like to do."

He smiled at her, as if to say, well, there you go.

She wanted to say that she was glad that it wasn't weird between them, but she decided not to. It had got kind of weird, after all, even if that was of her own doing.

"I needed to hear it," she said instead.

He nodded. "I'm sorry for how it came out, but I can't be sorry that I said it."

"I know. And I'm glad." She reached to pour more juice into her glass, not needing coffee this morning. "But I gotta say, if we could get a do-over, I'd take that too. That dress was pretty special. And the corset…well, let's just say it is definitely not a dentist corset."

She felt pretty damn proud of herself for the dark look in his eyes, and also glad that he seemed to be on the same page.

"Another someday?" he said, leaning forward.

How about right now? was how she wanted to answer. She felt like they owed it to the room, as much as to themselves.

"Did we get the first someday?" she asked. "Seeing as you didn't plan that night, obviously."

A smirk curved his mouth as he stayed staring at her. "You make a very valid point."

They finished as much of the food as they could manage, but didn't get through it all. By some miracle she was able to put her corset on in the bathroom, along with her special, shimmering dress (that she'd worn with the mind that Lenny was going to take it off, just as easily as he had done with the other one). She made her hair look as good as she was able and applied a fresh coat of lipstick.

Even if she was happy they'd smoothed things over as swiftly as they had, she couldn't escape the sinking feeling in her chest, that had started to plummet further down in her body until she felt as though she was at risk from being pulled from her feet.

Their reality never seemed to last for long enough.

She had to get home ahead of making it to Susie's office, which meant she had to leave here soon. He was going to be checking out around noon. Maybe she should just go straight to see Susie? The kids were good, Mama said as much. She just really wanted to stay as long as possible, had this feeling that it was going to be a long time until they got another chance.

She'd been wrong most of the time lately, and she'd take being mistaken just this once more.

"Ready to take on the world?"

His voice snaked its way up her spine, not quite the same as his touch but she'd take it.

"The city, at least. Couldn't do that a few hours ago. Still not sure if these shoes are going to make it, but I guess the sacrifice will be worth it."

"I could give them a pep talk," he pointed a finger at her feet, "unless they only react to the voice of their mistress."

"Given your pep talks, I'd be left walking barefoot through the snow. Frostbite would be funny for like two minutes at the start of a set but in the long-term, not worth forfeiting my extensive and very expensive shoe collection for."

He brought a hand to clutch at his chest. "And there I was, pinning everything on my next career move as a motivational speaker."

"Sorry," she winced slightly before giving way to a laugh, reassured by the softness edging the look in his eyes, "I'm just not over being told when I'm wrong. And I have to go and listen to Susie take great pleasure in telling me how wrong I was, and that she was right all along. Honestly, if I make it through that, it's going to feel nearly as good as being on stage at the Copa."

"You'll be in my thoughts."

She smiled before she could help it, stepping closer to where he stood, the sunlight streaming through the window having thrown his shadow onto her.

"I think I can survive it if I have a little incentive waiting on the other side. Dinner with a very famous and important comedian, to celebrate his killing it at Carnegie Hall, maybe."

She sees the clouds cast over his eyes and pretends that she doesn't feel the chill. She might have been able to escape fucking over her career (even that is still hanging by a thread at this precise moment) but it seems like there's been a heavy price to pay.

She wishes she could go back to that night. At the time she believed she'd absorbed him into every pore, the chemistry of her brain changing in the instant he kissed her, her skin turning to gold beneath the surface when he touched her. Her heart tying itself to his when they became one.

There might not have been a hell, not one that they were meant to believe in anyhow, but not even the holiest of men would have been able to deny that she'd found heaven in his arms.

"I would love to, but I kind of have plans."

Sure, she could act casual. Never mind that, as much as they've made it up through the last few hours, she's still stinging from the force of his words.

"Of course you do, Mr. Bruce. I hope they're fun."

"Against the alternative, absolutely not."

Despite the hopes she really ought to be throwing in the garbage, along with these shoes once she's made it halfway across the city, there's a fluttering in the centre of her chest.

"I'm staying with Jo-Jo tonight. He didn't say as much, but I think he's still pretty pissed that I checked out early last night."

"I might as well add him to my list of people to make amends to," she says. "It's getting pretty long, but what are we here for if not to spend the best part of our lives atoning?"

"Spoken like a true devotee," he returns. "Then I have to be very good and get an early night, as I'm California bound tomorrow morning."

"California," she repeats, like it's a word in another language. She feels struck dumb, not like the other times in recent days that he's left her speechless, both very good and definitely less so.

"Yes," he utters. He's staring at her with the smallest hint of a smile on his face, which is gone within the space of a second, less than that.

For that same space of time, she thinks that they might be inhabiting the same soul.

She feels herself shaking her head slightly, her mouth opening a little without any sound coming out. She looks at him, expecting him to say the words for her.

Don't go, is what she wants to say.

"You're not…because of me?" she stutters out, instantly regretting even thinking, never mind saying it.

The corners of his mouth flare upwards, and she really should be mad at him.

"I hate to break it to you, Midge, but not everything is about you."

She smiles too, knowing that she had that one coming.

"I've been thinking about it for a while," he continues, "my mother's there, with my daughter. What with the holidays coming up, and after the whole she-bang here…it'll be good to take stock for a period. Give Officer Peluso and his pals a break."

Of course, he has this whole other side of his life that she knows nothing about. Adding on further complication. Except it's not, not really. She had no idea he had a child until a few weeks ago. Even as he keeps his cards still close to his chest, she sees that he's softened at the edges at the mention of his daughter. Maybe he's not even aware of it, wanting to protect her, no doubt. She finds herself wondering how old the little girl is, her name, the color of her hair. If she looks like Lenny.

She knows she shouldn't think about her playing and laughing with Ethan and Esther, but she can't stop her mind from going there.

"That'll be good," she says with a smile that she wishes could be more genuine. Not that she'd deny him the time with his family, she'd just like the ability for him to split in two. "And I'm gonna stay here. For now, anyway. I mean, who knows where I'm going to end up. You know Susie got me a headline gig in Croatia?"

"Well, it'd definitely be a first."

"Yeah, I'm not gonna circle back on that one. Stay in the Western Hemisphere, that's the - fuck, I'm not supposed to plan, am I?"

He smiles. "Small steps. Nobody changes overnight."

She can feel the tears starting to well the longer she looks at him, biting on her bottom lip so that she thinks she must be close to drawing blood.

"What am I gonna do?" she hears herself say, though her voice comes out quiet.

She sees him ponder for a moment, digging one hand into a pocket. "It's still morning. You could go get a second breakfast."

"Lenny," she murmurs, his name definitely cracking as it leaves her lips. She brings a hand up to her mouth to stop the sobs from emerging, needing to inhale sharply when he steps forward and puts his hands on her shoulders.

"You know what you have to do, and you're gonna do it great. Way better than that." His eyes are burning on her, at the same time that they're a balm. The room seems to have shrunk to the space immediately around them. "No plans. No distractions. Just you, out in the world."

"Where not everything is about me," she says, finding enough of her spirit to joke along. "It's going to be a whole lot of fun."

"Not everything is about you," he says. One of his hands has moved to lightly brush against her cheek, making her hold in a gasp. "Only the really important things."

It's as though a supernatural force takes over her body with the speed at which she puts her hand to the back of his neck, pulling his lips onto hers. It's quicker than she wants; she wants to make it last forever. She feels him breathe against her mouth, gentle as he parts from her, his hand circled lightly around her wrist.

She finds his eyes, sees that there are tears there too.

Her heart's already breaking.

"You're gonna come back, right?"

She's not sure why she's asked the question when she's too afraid to hear the answer.

Even if she's messed up the chance of them being together beyond all repair, she can't completely regret it for getting to be with him once. For being reassured that all of her wildest dreams not only lived up to but far exceeded all of her expectations.

It'll make it easier to devote herself entirely to making her career a success, anyhow. There's no way that any other man could even try to compare.

His fingers are tracing lightly up and down her arm, edging closer to the crease of her elbow.

"If you're here, I could never stay away." He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and she swears she's stopped breathing for a second or two. "You need to tell me if you change your mind on Croatia, though. I've heard good things."

"Have you?" she chances, an eyebrow raised.

"Not really. But," he held his other hand out, "you never know."

The smile stays for a moment or two, not fading completely away as they draw in closer again.

Promise me.

The words are caught in her throat, not able to come out.

Promise me that you'll be careful.

She kisses him instead, or he kisses her. His hand is on her face, holding her close - almost like he doesn't want her to leave either. Her hands press light against his chest, seeking out the beat of his heart with her fingertips. She wants to savor everything about him, the feel of his lips against hers, knowing this will have to sustain her.

Either way, whatever they have or don't, he's leaving.

He helps her into her coat, even though he doesn't need to, but it's a nice encore. He gets the reception to call her a cab straight to the door, because he's still Mr. Bruce and everyone is raving about him, they will be for months.

They're standing outside with the snow under their feet, then she's in the back of the cab, looking at him right by the window.

She wants to climb out, cling onto him. Go right back up to the blue room (how much longer will it be that color?) and make the most of the time they have left.

"No looking back," he says, his voice a little distant through the closed window. "Only going forward."

She smiles and wants to cry and feels a shiver dart down her spine all at once.

She has to look back, just once more.

And when she does, he's already gone.