They were in the bed in Deb's L.A. house, a bed identical in every way to the bed in Vegas, something Ava still found rather trippy. Deborah sat with her iPad while Ava was lost in thought.

"What were you like after you left me in L.A.?" she asked, Deb seemingly caught by surprise.

"What?" she took her reading glasses off and twisted them between finger and thumb.

"Before we left this morning, Josephina thanked me," Ava elaborated. "She said something about no more broken soap dishes."

Deborah closed her eyes and dropped her glasses so she could pinch the bridge of her nose.

"Deb?" Ava sat up and turned toward her.

"It was a single soap dish. Not plural. It happened once."

"I'm sure that makes all the difference, but I still don't understand," she placed a hand on Deb's blanket-covered thigh.

"I am not proud of how awful I was to my staff," she sighed. The frustration evident in her voice was with herself, not with Ava.

"And that included breaking a soap dish?" Ava was willing to wait Deborah out. She knew when not to push, but it didn't feel like one of those moments. She truly wondered what those weeks apart were like for Deborah. They had been hell for Ava.

"I decided to do a few drop-ins. One night I was at that new comedy club out by the Silver Nugget. I bombed. I mean, I didn't even bomb, I stumbled. It was the first show I had done, walking out from the wings and all, without you to send me off or congratulate me after. I must have looked over to where you usually stood fifteen times."

Ava took the iPad and set it on the other side of her, taking Deb's hand between both of her own.

"By the time I got home I was—"

"Stupid angry?" Ava surmised.

"Yes," Deborah wasn't proud, but Ava deserved an answer regardless. "I got out of my wig and makeup and got in the shower. The quiet only made it worse. I may have sent the porcelain soap dish flying."

"May have, hmm?" she was now pressed against Deb's side and showing that she wasn't scared of this part of the woman she loved. Pain manifested in strange ways.

"The next morning Josephina had to get someone in to patch the sheetrock."

The way Deborah cringed at the thought of this told Ava everything she needed to know about whether the outburst would ever happen again. She was ashamed. In the time she had known her, she had seen Deborah throw a walker at Perla, a shoe at a cruise-goer and had experienced having crystals thrown at her by Deb. She didn't doubt there would be outbursts, but not the rage-induced kind that included hitting people or throwing things.

Looking away, Deb said nothing.

"Hey," Ava reached for her face, using her fingers on Deb's chin to get her attention back. "I threw my phone at a bouncer once."

Deb looked at her suspiciously.

"Not while we were apart, though."

The eyeroll she received told Ava that she wasn't making Deborah feel like any less of a tyrant.

"That first night, I got totally wasted," Ava decided that an honest depiction of their time apart was the only thing that would put them on an even footing. Deborah followed the jump in Ava's mind to their time apart. "I have no idea how I got to Ruby's. That hadn't been the plan at all, but I obviously couldn't stay here that night. Thankfully she let me in. The next morning, I was convinced I'd been through a garbage compactor. I hadn't had that much to drink in months. I am assuming there were other substances as well. Ruby made it clear that if I was going to crash at her house I was not going to be showing up late and wasted every night. She made me promise no drugs. It's very demoralizing to have to be mothered by your ex. Marcus told me the subletter wouldn't be out for another week, though. So, what choice did I have?"

"Thank god for Ruby, huh?" Deborah felt like the biggest asshole for putting Ava through all of it and for thinking the worst of the actress she hadn't even met.

"It was a long week. Then I had my townhouse to go to for all of sixteen hours before flooding it. And she took me back in while I figured out my next move. Did you know homeowners' insurance covers floods that come from the inside?" Ava wasn't being facetious and it made Deborah snort. "It got repaired, I got the place you saw today and then Jimmy called."

The raised eyebrow from Deborah told Ava that she had no idea what she was mentioning Jimmy for.

"He told me about the lawsuit being dropped. He called with job news and news of you. One erased the other, though the job turned out not to be terrible. Except it is in L.A. and you are in Vegas."

"I'm sorry, honey," Deborah pulled Ava to her; she kissed her temple. "I should have been a big enough person to tell you myself."

"I'm over it," Ava meant it.

"I should send Ruby something," Deborah hummed against Ava's head.

"I know for a fact she needs a better couch."

Laughter shook the bed.

…

"Do you really have to go?" Ava was observing Deborah as she read the morning newspapers. She hadn't touched her breakfast. She was already feeling a deep sense of dread. Life away from Deb was never quite the same.

"You know I do," Deborah looked over her reading glasses at Ava. That look had given the redhead a rush long before they started sleeping together. They had sat together over many breakfasts with Ava squeezing her legs together under the table.

"I'm going to sound like that whiny little brat that called you every night to beg you to let me see you."

"Funny, you sound like a whiny little brat most of the time," Deb didn't work to make it land, she was focused on Ava's sad expression the entire time. When she put the paper down it was clear that this conversation was finally happening.

"65."

"What?" Deborah shook her head in confusion.

"When you are 109, I am going to be 65. And who's to say if you'll even know who I am that last 10 years?" Ava shrugged petulantly. "I don't want to waste any more time apart, Deb."

"You will not quit this job, Ava. Not for me." Deborah was stubbornly holding on to this single requirement.

"What if I quit for me?" Ava posed. "What if I quit because what I want most is time with you. Near you?"

Deborah exhaled. She knew this argument would resurface one day. Ava was the queen of circling back to the big issues. The fact that they were now lovers didn't make it easier, it actually made it harder.

"Ava…" Deb reached out a hand to touch Ava's on the table. "You're making a name for yourself. The show is a hit. Don't quit now, honey."

"Deborah Vance, you are an idiot," Ava spat.

"Excuse me?" Deborah recoiled.

"Someone who loves you, all of you, even the messiest fucking parts of you, wants to be near you. Why do you reject that?" Ava sank back in her chair and radiated frustration.

"Why is my wanting you to have success so problematic for you?" Deb snapped.

"Is that all it is? Or are you wanting to be with me while also holding me at arm's length?" Ava was no longer censoring herself and she felt out of control in the worst way. Not censoring herself had caused a lot of pain in their working relationship. She hated the thought of it causing problems in their personal relationship. Not now that they had one.

Deborah was to her feet and livid. Unsurprisingly, her answer to Ava's question about distance was to put immediate distance between them. Ava remained in her seat feeling like a total asshole for starting the fight. She gave Deb a minute before standing and moving in the direction of the kitchen.

"Deb," she entered the kitchen where Deborah was leaning against the large table, face in her hands. Upon Ava's entry, she ran her fingers through her hair and because it had been in the process of drying, it didn't fall back into place. She looked as wrecked as she felt. "Please don't run from me."

The look Ava received was worrisome. Caged animals deserve their space.

"What did you think would happen when you kissed me?" Ava did not approach.

"What are you talking about?" Deborah's eyes were cycling through every shade of blue. The darkest blue was reserved for the moments when her pain could no longer be buried to the depth where Ava's emotional mining couldn't touch.

"That night weeks ago when you ambushed me at your house," she stepped into the room and pulled out a chair. Being seated gave her a modicum of a chance in this emotional battle. She wouldn't appear threatening even if her words might. "We hadn't seen each other since you left me in L.A. You hadn't indicated attraction, not really. Sure, you had made some pretty romantic gestures that I knew for a fact you weren't seeing the same way I was. What possessed you that night after dinner? What was it in that risk versus reward calculation you do about everything in your life that made you say 'fuck it'?"

The silent, insolent stare Ava knew well appeared. The one consistent thing about Deborah Vance was that she believed she had earned the ability to put people in their place. That look is how she did it best. But she had never had much success with it when it came to her former writing partner.

"I had missed you," Deborah broke. She crossed her arms over her chest. The way she continued to look at Ava suggested there was a lot not being said.

"Last I checked, a person can miss someone and tell them as much. A kiss doesn't usually figure in."

"Oh, fuck you, Ava," Deborah spat.

Standing and taking a few steps closer, no longer caring that Deborah was pissed, Ava was within an arm's length.

"Why did you kiss me?" she bravely repeated.

"Christ! I kissed you because I hated myself for hurting you. I missed you, really missed you. And the work wasn't the same. Nothing was the same. You had totally upended my life in a few short months and I couldn't stand the thought of losing you again. I took a chance on what I thought you felt. It's not like you hadn't been broadcasting your feelings!"

They were facing each other when Ava felt the blush creeping in. Her ears were warm. Her complexion didn't hide it at all; it never did. She didn't know how obvious she had been. But the blushing was far from her concern. Deborah admitted how much Ava affected her. Not now, but then—when they were apart.

"You are such an asshole sometimes!" Ava blurted.

This wasn't what Deborah was expecting. She raised a curious eyebrow, rolled her tongue in her closed mouth, and knew Ava would give in.

"You really are an asshole! How can you be awful and fucking amazing at the same time?" Ava approached and looped her hands behind Deborah's neck, her forearms resting on the woman's strong shoulders. Deb was scowling, but her lips were pursed in amusement. "That's how I feel when you are in Vegas and I am here. I'm not here, not really. My mind is on you. My body is still with you."

Deborah's hands grabbed on to Ava's elbows.

"How do you think I feel?" her voice dropped to a place both sexy and scary.

"Like you have one less child running around the house demanding things?" Ava smirked, though her words weren't far off from what she believed she had been for Deborah for much of their working relationship.

"Ava…"

"D—" she leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Deborah's mouth. "Nothing was the same for me, either."

The admission was enough for Deborah to at least consider what Ava was asking for. Or she would think about it later. She led Ava upstairs.

…

"Were we both falling in love in our own way and on our own schedule?" Ava asked over FaceTime that night. She was sitting on the bed that just hours before she and Deborah had made love in.

"That's an overly romantic simplification of our situation, even for you."

Deborah wasn't being glib. Far from it.

"Is it? Because it seems we might have been and then being apart either accelerated the timeline or…"

Ava received a look that told her to proceed with caution.

"You know what I mean," Ava could give a pointed look as well and she did. The one she employed lately seemed to force Deborah to actually face her feelings head on. She couldn't hide behind her stage persona and she was rarely given the opportunity to become defensive at the hands of her ego.

"Do I?" she drawled.

"What happened to the woman who couldn't stand the thought of me not having a couch of my own to sit on at the end of the day or the woman who said her life had been upended?" Ava wasn't angry. She wanted an answer to her question.

On the couch in her bedroom, Deborah sat with Barry and Cara. She wasn't content to leave the question unanswered.

"Yes."

One word. That's all Deborah spoke. Ava was involuntarily doing an impression of a fish, gulping for air and trying to wrap her head around what had been said. She hadn't actually expected Deborah to admit that she was falling in love with Ava before banishing her back to L.A. She also hadn't expected the answer to be so concise.

"You…?" she stammered.

"I told you I had loved you in one form or another for some time, Ava."

And she had. Deborah Vance who wasn't known for letting people close enough to see she had actual human emotions was admitting that she had been falling for her writing partner not alongside Ava, no, but separate and silently from her.

"That really isn't the most attractive look on your face, darling," Deborah's mouth twitched.

"I never expected you to say you had been falling for me, D."

"Unpredictable Deborah Vance stuns partner with confession of feelings," Deborah rolled her eyes and snarked.

"Don't do that." Ava was having none of it.

"What?"

"That stage version of you, Deb. I think I know it pretty well by now. It's self-deprecating and phony. Performative, at best." She ran her hand through her hair and sank against the pillows, scooting down to get settled for sleep. "I want to understand what changed things for you. How we went from you looking at me like I was nothing but an entitled millennial to you looking like you were going to kiss me on a rooftop in L.A. and then from you leaving me there, figuratively and literally, to you deciding to kiss me when I stepped into your house again."

Deborah's face softened in a subtle way that only Ava seemed to be able to spot. Perhaps it was physical manifestation of the softening of Deborah that only happened for her, Ava couldn't be sure.

"I'm sorry," Deb muttered.

"I know you are. I don't need an apology. Look, it's been a long day for us both. Are you ready to call it a night?" Ava was done pushing. She had her limits just as she recognized the line with Deborah. Whenever she actually thought about that invisible line, she would shake her head at the irony that when they first met Deborah had explained that in comedy there wasn't a line. Funny would be funny. Unfortunately, that rule wasn't applicable with the woman she loved and her closely guarded emotional existence.

"Yes," Deborah's eye twitched. She nudged the dogs. "Bed!"

"Goodnight, Barry and Cara!" Ava said and the dogs' ears twitched at the sound of her voice. Soon their little legs carried them away to their room.

Taking a moment to adjust the throw pillows on her couch, Deborah allowed Ava's silence to settle her nerves. She moved to the bed, grabbing the remote to close the shades. It wasn't until she was sitting on the edge of the bed, arranging her night creams in the order she would use them once her hands were free, that she looked at the woman whose face filled up her phone screen.

"You're on set first thing tomorrow?" she asked even though she already knew the answer. Since the misunderstanding about Ruby's going away party, they had been more communicative about their daily lives when they had to be apart.

"Yeah, all day. QVC call mid-morning?" Ava also knew the answer.

Deborah nodded.

"I'll text you once I'm not on a soundstage. Get some sleep, Deb."

"Goodnight, Ava," Deb said, a hint of sadness creeping in at the end.

"I love you, D."

Once again separation was a strain.

To be continued…