A Wedding Song 21: Cry...
The title is from the recent song by Faith Hill. Those of you know the words will understand the significance. I'll provide a snippet for those who aren't Country music devotees:
* If I had just one tear rollin' down your cheek,
Oh then, maybe, oh, maybe I'd get some sleep.
If I had just one moment at your expense,
Maybe all my misery would be well spent.... *
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1:30 P.M
"Go, Darien. It's ya birthday. We're gonna party like it's ya birthday..."
"Shut up an' get in the truck." Bobby grumped at his partner, who did one final spin move and posed like a supermodel before climbing into the vehicle.
"You have to admit, Agent Hobbes, a legitimate hole in one is worth a little celebration. That eighteenth was a beast." Danny commented as he slid back into the rear seat with Darien's prize, which barely fit inside the truck. Bobby made a disgusted grunt as he pulled out of the parking lot, but was otherwise silent.
"Hey, it's not my fault what I got for a prize is it?"
"What? You picked it!"
"Okay, so it is my fault, but I couldn't resist. It was just too perfect."
"They had the kid, too, or didn't you notice that?"
"I didn't want Calvin. I wanted the tiger. It's about time we had one around the house. A stuffed one, I mean."
Bobby blushed furiously and at the next stop light he leaned forward, pretending to see something slightly off about the gauges behind the steering wheel. Once he felt the heat begin to dissipate from his cheeks, he re-focused on the road and they took off again.
"Long as you don't name it after me, it can stay."
Darien gave his fiancée a genuinely confused look.
"What else would I name him?"
Hobbes groaned and shook his head. Darien grinned and began softly singing a made up song about blushing tigers to the tune of "London Bridge is Falling Down". Danny burst out with laughter, not for the first time that day.
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TWO O'CLOCK: THE APARTMENT
"I still don't like this. We just met him. I admit, I'm startin to like him, but...."
"Chill, Fawkes. The fat man said private, right? Can't get much more private than our place."
"I guess..."
"What, you'd rather do this behind some supermarket somewhere an' have the deli guy come out for a smoke and catch you goin' see-through?"
"No. You're right." Darien acceded, shifting Bobbi's carrier to his other hand while he waited for Hobbes to unlock the door. "I'm just... nervous."
"Man, if you got performance anxiety over somethin' easy like this, that don't say much for what our weddin' night's gonna be like." Bobby snarked quietly as the trio moved into the house. Eyes wide, Darien smacked his partner solidly in the back of the head with his free hand before taking their daughter off into the bedroom to be changed.
"What was that about?" Danny asked, chuckling.
"Nothin' much. He thinks he's got a corner on the smart-mouth market. He has a hissy fit when I steal his thunder."
"Oh. I figured it had to be something like that. Is the baby his or... damn. Speaking of mouth problems... Sorry. None of my business."
"Nah, it's okay. She's Darien's and mine."
"Uhhh.... I don't understand."
"You will. Just have a seat on the couch. We'll be right with ya. You feel like a beer?"
"Will I need it?"
"Right. I'll bring two."
Within a few minutes, Bobbi was settled in her playpen and the three men were gathered a few feet away, deep in discussion.
"I really don't know how you handled that. To be awake during the surgery... to be aware of what they were doing...."
"I was awake, but I wasn't too aware. They had me swimmin' in drugs so I wouldn't feel pain. I don't remember much."
"Of course. So, they implanted this biosynthetic gland in your brain. What does it do?"
"Less that it used to, for which I thank God every day of my life."
"Excuse me?"
"Later. Just show him, baby."
"Okay. You might wanna get a good grip on something, Danny. This is gonna pretty much blow your mind."
"Yeah." Bobby added. "The first time you see this happen, it can be kinda.... scary, so hold onto your boxer shorts, newbie."
"Understood. Go ahead."
As he had so many times before, Darien breathed deeply and consciously triggered the reaction in the gland at the base of his brain. The amazing transformation happened almost before he had time to perceive it. Suddenly, all his senses were altered, sight and touch most profoundly of all, but within a few seconds, he'd adjusted to the differences. The physical sensations were the same as always; the abrupt cold, muscles tensing at the nape of his neck, but with the passage of time and the myriad changes in his life, the thoughts connected to this moment of utter metamorphosis had changed radically.
In his first few months with the gland, every use of the Quicksilver had gone hand in hand with terror and contemplations of rebellion and painful death. Now, well into the post-madness era, he recognized his implant for the valuable gift it was and gratefully acknowledged the second chance it had provided him; one he did not intend to squander. Fear was the only remnant from that long ago period of fine-tuning, but it was no longer for himself. His concern was for the child to whom he had bequeathed both a copy of his gland and the consequences that went with it.
Shaking himself mentally, Darien pulled away from his own thoughts.
"Is he okay, Bobby?"
"I don't know. He's just kinda...starin', like maybe he had a stroke."
Swiftly, Darien shed the Quicksilver coating and returned to the visible spectrum. He moved to sit beside Danny on the couch and gently began trying to revive him.
"Danny. Hey, you in there? Come back, man. It's over. Danny, take a deep breath, throw up, do somethin'..."
"Huh? What... how.... you...."
"Yeah, that's pretty much everybody's first reaction." Darien told him, grinning. "You gonna be able to talk right eventually or should I go find a speech therapist?"
"Beer."
"An' that's usually their second reaction." Bobby said, pressing a cold bottle into their new friend's hand. Danny gulped half of the contents, dropped the hand with the bottle in order to take a much needed gasp of air then raised the beer again and finished it.
"Damn. He's good. Better than I used to be, an' that's sayin' a lot." Darien commented.
"Now I get it. It all makes sense, now."
"What does?" Bobby asked.
"The Official kept going on about cartoons; Secret Squirrel, Inspector Gadget, Dynomutt and Blue Falcon. I thought he might be getting a head start on senility, but now I understand. He was talking about you, Agent Fawkes."
"That's just his funny way of showing how much he loves me."
"Not so funny." Danny countered, sipping his second beer much more slowly. " I was ready to ask for a phone book so I could look up the nearest psychiatric hospital."
"Don't worry. He's not nuts. Sneaky, ruthless an' inhuman, but not nuts."
"Nice to know."
"If you wanna see nuts, go take a peek at the agent you replaced. That... is nuts in it's ugliest form." Bobby responded, bitterness coloring his words.
Darien suddenly grew somber and angry. He glared at Bobby pointedly. "What?"
"You know damn well what."
"You've been thinkin' it ever since it happened. You just won't say it."
"I won't say it because it's not true. She's in pain. I'm trying to understand that and move past it, Bobby. I need to stop being angry about what she did. You're not helping."
"I know.... I'm sorry. She was actin' out of her grief, I get that. Right now it just... don't matter. I can't even think about forgivin' her yet."
When Darien reached out and took Bobby's hand in a gesture of comfort, the glint of his ring caught Danny's eye and suddenly a few of the oddities he'd noticed during the course of the day became not so odd.
"Oh, okay. So that's why I've been getting the OMC vibe so strong. You are."
"Are what?"
"OMC."
"Obviously Morally Corrupt?" Darien offered.
"Occasionally Mentally Cracked?" Bobby tossed out
"Organization of Male Cutpurses!"
When he was able to stop laughing, Danny finally responded.
"No, no... It means Old married Couple."
The other two sobered quickly. "Hey, don't worry about me, guys. My folks brought me up to believe a rose by any other name.... The heart wants what it wants and there's no use telling it something else is better for you. If you two have decided you love each other, I'm more than cool. I can practically guarantee you'll be a lot happier than the millions of people out there pretending they don't feel they way they feel. Now... you were going to tell me about the baby..."
Apparently recognizing when she was being discussed, even if her name hadn't been mentioned, Bobbi screeched gleefully and began bouncing up and down in her playpen, plainly asking for release and an introduction to the newcomer.
"Hang on, sweetie. No need for the aerobics. I'm comin'."
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THAT EVENING:
After another hour or so of conversation, Bobby drove Danny back to the Agency while Darien stayed with Roberta Claire. Finding him fascinating, she was reluctant to see the new agent go, but restrained herself to just one faint whimper. Once Hobbes returned, he and Darien spent the next few hours on domestic tasks and rehashing their time with Danny Masters. When dinnertime finally approached, a friendly argument set in. Darien wanted healthy food, Bobby wanted anything else. It was interrupted by a visitor.
"But it's what I'm craving. All the exercise today plus the extra QS session's got my appetite goin' crazy. I need the protein an' I want some miso soup so bad I can taste it."
"I told you no, Fawkes. You agree to a membership at my gym, then *maybe* I'll think about tryin' sushi."
"As long as I still have stretch marks, I'm not goin' anywhere near a locker room!"
"Gettin' rid of the stretch marks is what the gym is for!"
"Go see who's at the door, extortionist."
"The door ain't the topic of conversation. We were about to do some serious negotiatin', ri.... ght... Oh damn...."
As he opened the door, Bobby stumbled over the end of his sentence, stunned by the face that greeted him. "Viv? What the hell are you doin' here?"
"And a pleasant evening to you too, Robert. Are you going to let me in?"
"Wasn't plannin' on it. How did you know where to find me?"
"I finally had to resort to getting my lawyer involved. He used one of his private investigators...."
"Yeah, yeah. I shoulda guessed you'd be that underhanded.... "
"Underhanded indeed! What else was I supposed to do? You wouldn't talk to me on the phone, you refused to see me so that we could speak in person..."
"Look, cram it, Viv. I had good reasons for blowin' you off an' you know damn well...."
"Be that as it may, Robert, it's quite chilly out here. Let me in immediately."
For a moment, Bobby seriously considered tossing his ex an appropriately vulgar remark and shutting the door in her face, but he knew the less painful option was to step aside and let her enter.
"Fine. Only for a minute."
"I was hoping we could sit.... have a cup of coffee perhaps. This is a beautiful apartment, Robert. How long have you been here?"
"Thanks. None of your business. Look, just drop what whatever bomb you came here to deliver and get out, huh? This is my new home an' I don't want any nasty memories a'you in it."
"Really, Robert! We may be separated, but we can still act like civilized people."
"Your idea of civilized or mine? Whole different ballgame. An' the word is divorced. Signin' those papers turned out to be the best thing I ever did, too..."
"Robert, please stop it! I only came here to..."
"To what? That's a real good question. What the hell would ever make you think I'd wanna see you again?"
"Must you always curse? I only wondered.... if you might be available for dinner tonight."
"What?! You have just got to be kiddin'.... Get outta here, Viv. Now..."
"Wait! I need to... talk to someone. I... I left Brock yesterday."
"What, he got a hangnail or somethin'?"
"Don't be crude. He's gambled away almost all his money. He's practically destitute. I believed Brock was different, but he's like most men.... weak, useless creatures who can't stand on their own two feet for more than two minutes without a woman's hand under their elbow."
"Same old Viv. Say I love you, make a vow an' run for your life the second the water gets a little choppy. Like I said, gettin' away from you was the best choice I ever made. Why don't you...."
Whatever Bobby had intended to say next, his train of thought derailed and burst into flames when, from the corner of his eye, he saw Darien walk into the room with Roberta Claire in his arms. Utterly wrapped up in her smile, he was unaware of the visitor until he raised his eyes in response to his partner calling his name.
"Darien... go in the kitchen for a few minutes, wouldja?"
"No. Hey, Viv. Long time no see."
{Next time make it longer...} he thought but did not say, knowing his role was as Bobby's support, not second in command in the insult brigade.
"Fawkes...."
"We made a deal, Bobby. In person is better than on the phone, right? She's here.... go on and tell her. I got your back, you know that."
Reluctantly, Bobby turned back to his ex-wife, sighed and motioned her to a chair.
"I don't understand, Robert. What's going on? Who is this man and whose child is that?"
"Just... sit, okay? I got a story to tell an' you don't wanna be standin' up for it."
After a bit of hesitation, Vivian moved to sit in the chair Hobbes had pointed out and he dropped to the couch beside Darien. "Okay.... first off, this is my partner, Darien Fawkes. You met him once, but you never had a great memory. The baby is mine.... ours."
"Wait. Slow down, Robert. You're not making sense. A baby? You can't possibly have a baby. Who could stand you long enough to even *conceive* never mind bear a child?"
"Not "the baby", not "the child". She's my daughter... an' she has a name."
"Which is?"
"Roberta Claire."
"Named after you. Typical of your enormous ego. So... where is the child's mother?" she asked smugly, believing she knew the answer all too well.
"Dead. Complications with the birth."
This reply evaporated a great deal of Viv's arrogance, but it was swiftly replaced with false sympathy and mock concern which only drove Bobby's emotional temperature higher.
"Oh... Oh, I am sorry, Robert, but surely you can't mean you're raising her alone? It must be so... difficult for you."
Hobbes turned his gaze on Darien and Bobbi and, despite a warning shiver that told him he should hide his feelings from his jealous and vengeful ex-spouse, he couldn't keep his emotions from showing in his face.
"Nah. I'm not alone.... not anymore. Darien, he's been tryin' to get me to call you, tell you about our plans. I put it off an' put it off... I didn't wanna deal with you.... but he's right. You need to know this. I'm gettin' married again."
"Married? That's ridiculous, Robert. Who'd have you, a coma patient? Robert. When I'm speaking to you I'd appreciate your full attention.... oh my Lord. You said *our* plans. No... you're not... you are serious. Why didn't you call me? How long has it been this bad?"
"Bad? What're you babblin' about now...."
"When did you stop taking your pills?! You know the doctor warned you that if you stopped the medication you'd slip right back into the paranoia and then anyone could manipulate you! What did he say to get you to abduct this poor little girl?"
"Do you *ever* listen to yourself? Compared to you, Charlie Manson's playin' with a full deck an' two jokers.... Look, just calm down, okay?"
"Calm down? He's sitting there holding a stolen baby and you want me to calm down?!"
"That's enough. Time to go."
Finally realizing he would get nowhere while Viv was hysterical, Bobby rose, grabbing his ex's wrist to force her to move with him, and began to guide the woman toward the exit.
"Robert.... you're hurting me!"
"Payback's a bitch, just like you." he growled, flinging open the door. "I tried to tell him, ya know? She'll never change, I said. As long as Viv gets her way, she don't give a damn who she hurts an' she never will.... Darien says you got a right to this much an' he's usually on track, so here it is, but after this I don't ever wanna see your face again, got me? After Roberta's mom died, Darien saved my life. He kept me from followin' her outta this world like I wanted to. I asked him to help me raise my daughter an' somewhere along the way.... we fell in love. He gives me everything you never did.... all the things you never had to give plus a lotta stuff you'll never even understand. He's what I want and need now. We're gettin' married, real soon I hope, an' just in case I ain't made it clear enough how I feel yet, you should know you you're not invited. Get out."
"Robert, you can't blame me for what I was thinking. The whole situation is a little bizarre...."
"Oh, I blame you for a lotta stuff, lady. What you think.... that's the least of it. I've done my duty as your ex an' a decent human being. Do yours and leave."
"Ro.... Bobby...."
"Quit! Just... quit. I'm gonna try an' be happy. You go do the same with the next poor shlub who's dumb enough to let you wrap him around your finger. Wipe my existence outta your head, okay? I'll do you the same favor." Bobby told her wearily as he pushed her over the threshold and closed the door.
As Hobbes trudged back into the living room, he realized that Darien had placed Bobbi in her bassinet and was standing by the couch waiting for him, ready to give his partner whatever he needed. He could see all too clearly how hard Bobby was working to hold himself together and he instinctively opened his arms.
"C'mere, baby. It's okay. Lean on me, love..." Darien murmured as Hobbes almost fell into his embrace. "I'm so proud of you.... you did it. It's over now.... you're done. Let go if you want to.... cry it out... be sad if that's what you feel...."
"I'm not! I'm not sad...." Bobby contradicted him, struggling halfheartedly to pull away, aching for something he could touch and fight and physically subdue, instead of having to face intangible enemies. Darien recognized his sudden resistance as a symptom of his overwhelmed emotions and held him more tightly.
"Then what is it? Hmmm? Tell me."
"I'm mad! I'm so freakin' mad... I can't breathe! I wasted so much time... so much a'myself on somebody who didn't give a damn about me.... Why didn't I see it? Why didn't I know she couldn't love me..."
"Bobby... I don't have any answers. Please, don't let her do this to you. I'm so sorry she hurt you like this.... I love you. Long as you remember that.... it's always gonna be okay."
"I hate her.... I hate her for walkin' away, I hate her for makin' it look so easy. The day she left... you woulda thought she was goin out to get the car washed.... God... I hate the bitch..."
"Bobby, don't, okay? Don't waste anymore anger or tears on her. She's weak an' afraid.... that's all she is, all she ever will be. She can't help that. Don't cry over her anymore, baby. Stop givin' her all your power. Take it back, Bobby.... please take it back...."
"You don't understand...."
"Hell, I don't. I've got my own temptations, Hobbes.... people an' a life that could pull me back in if I let it.... if I gave up the power. Because of you, Bobbi, Eberts an' Claire I fight to stay here. I fight to keep what I have 'cause what I have is way too precious to ever lose. I love you, damn it. I love you, I want you, I need you.... Fight, Bobby. Fight for yourself.... fight for us."
Darien stopped speaking then, feeling he'd said the most important words, the ones Bobby truly needed to hear. Beyond that point, he simply held Bobby, stroking his back and waiting until his fiancée was ready to be let go.
"Geez... I messed up your shirt.... got it all wet. I'm sorry, man. I was actin' like a big dweeb, here...."
"No way. You were gettin' rid of some old pain you've been storin' up. You've needed to say that stuff for a long time. Maybe now you can start to heal."
"Maybe.... We've still got your talk with Kev to get past."
"Yeah. Not exactly lookin' forward to that."
"You know I'll be there, just like you were here for me tonight."
"That's the only thing that's keepin' me from scrappin' the idea all together. Man, I am now officially ready to chew on a table leg. You ready to go eat?"
"No sushi."
"Okay, okay. Surf an' turf?"
"I say I'm starvin', but I need to throw some water on my face an'... you're gonna have to change that shirt."
"Yeah... gimme ten minutes."
"To get Bobbi into her jacket? I'll give you twenty at the outside."
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TBC........
The title is from the recent song by Faith Hill. Those of you know the words will understand the significance. I'll provide a snippet for those who aren't Country music devotees:
* If I had just one tear rollin' down your cheek,
Oh then, maybe, oh, maybe I'd get some sleep.
If I had just one moment at your expense,
Maybe all my misery would be well spent.... *
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1:30 P.M
"Go, Darien. It's ya birthday. We're gonna party like it's ya birthday..."
"Shut up an' get in the truck." Bobby grumped at his partner, who did one final spin move and posed like a supermodel before climbing into the vehicle.
"You have to admit, Agent Hobbes, a legitimate hole in one is worth a little celebration. That eighteenth was a beast." Danny commented as he slid back into the rear seat with Darien's prize, which barely fit inside the truck. Bobby made a disgusted grunt as he pulled out of the parking lot, but was otherwise silent.
"Hey, it's not my fault what I got for a prize is it?"
"What? You picked it!"
"Okay, so it is my fault, but I couldn't resist. It was just too perfect."
"They had the kid, too, or didn't you notice that?"
"I didn't want Calvin. I wanted the tiger. It's about time we had one around the house. A stuffed one, I mean."
Bobby blushed furiously and at the next stop light he leaned forward, pretending to see something slightly off about the gauges behind the steering wheel. Once he felt the heat begin to dissipate from his cheeks, he re-focused on the road and they took off again.
"Long as you don't name it after me, it can stay."
Darien gave his fiancée a genuinely confused look.
"What else would I name him?"
Hobbes groaned and shook his head. Darien grinned and began softly singing a made up song about blushing tigers to the tune of "London Bridge is Falling Down". Danny burst out with laughter, not for the first time that day.
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TWO O'CLOCK: THE APARTMENT
"I still don't like this. We just met him. I admit, I'm startin to like him, but...."
"Chill, Fawkes. The fat man said private, right? Can't get much more private than our place."
"I guess..."
"What, you'd rather do this behind some supermarket somewhere an' have the deli guy come out for a smoke and catch you goin' see-through?"
"No. You're right." Darien acceded, shifting Bobbi's carrier to his other hand while he waited for Hobbes to unlock the door. "I'm just... nervous."
"Man, if you got performance anxiety over somethin' easy like this, that don't say much for what our weddin' night's gonna be like." Bobby snarked quietly as the trio moved into the house. Eyes wide, Darien smacked his partner solidly in the back of the head with his free hand before taking their daughter off into the bedroom to be changed.
"What was that about?" Danny asked, chuckling.
"Nothin' much. He thinks he's got a corner on the smart-mouth market. He has a hissy fit when I steal his thunder."
"Oh. I figured it had to be something like that. Is the baby his or... damn. Speaking of mouth problems... Sorry. None of my business."
"Nah, it's okay. She's Darien's and mine."
"Uhhh.... I don't understand."
"You will. Just have a seat on the couch. We'll be right with ya. You feel like a beer?"
"Will I need it?"
"Right. I'll bring two."
Within a few minutes, Bobbi was settled in her playpen and the three men were gathered a few feet away, deep in discussion.
"I really don't know how you handled that. To be awake during the surgery... to be aware of what they were doing...."
"I was awake, but I wasn't too aware. They had me swimmin' in drugs so I wouldn't feel pain. I don't remember much."
"Of course. So, they implanted this biosynthetic gland in your brain. What does it do?"
"Less that it used to, for which I thank God every day of my life."
"Excuse me?"
"Later. Just show him, baby."
"Okay. You might wanna get a good grip on something, Danny. This is gonna pretty much blow your mind."
"Yeah." Bobby added. "The first time you see this happen, it can be kinda.... scary, so hold onto your boxer shorts, newbie."
"Understood. Go ahead."
As he had so many times before, Darien breathed deeply and consciously triggered the reaction in the gland at the base of his brain. The amazing transformation happened almost before he had time to perceive it. Suddenly, all his senses were altered, sight and touch most profoundly of all, but within a few seconds, he'd adjusted to the differences. The physical sensations were the same as always; the abrupt cold, muscles tensing at the nape of his neck, but with the passage of time and the myriad changes in his life, the thoughts connected to this moment of utter metamorphosis had changed radically.
In his first few months with the gland, every use of the Quicksilver had gone hand in hand with terror and contemplations of rebellion and painful death. Now, well into the post-madness era, he recognized his implant for the valuable gift it was and gratefully acknowledged the second chance it had provided him; one he did not intend to squander. Fear was the only remnant from that long ago period of fine-tuning, but it was no longer for himself. His concern was for the child to whom he had bequeathed both a copy of his gland and the consequences that went with it.
Shaking himself mentally, Darien pulled away from his own thoughts.
"Is he okay, Bobby?"
"I don't know. He's just kinda...starin', like maybe he had a stroke."
Swiftly, Darien shed the Quicksilver coating and returned to the visible spectrum. He moved to sit beside Danny on the couch and gently began trying to revive him.
"Danny. Hey, you in there? Come back, man. It's over. Danny, take a deep breath, throw up, do somethin'..."
"Huh? What... how.... you...."
"Yeah, that's pretty much everybody's first reaction." Darien told him, grinning. "You gonna be able to talk right eventually or should I go find a speech therapist?"
"Beer."
"An' that's usually their second reaction." Bobby said, pressing a cold bottle into their new friend's hand. Danny gulped half of the contents, dropped the hand with the bottle in order to take a much needed gasp of air then raised the beer again and finished it.
"Damn. He's good. Better than I used to be, an' that's sayin' a lot." Darien commented.
"Now I get it. It all makes sense, now."
"What does?" Bobby asked.
"The Official kept going on about cartoons; Secret Squirrel, Inspector Gadget, Dynomutt and Blue Falcon. I thought he might be getting a head start on senility, but now I understand. He was talking about you, Agent Fawkes."
"That's just his funny way of showing how much he loves me."
"Not so funny." Danny countered, sipping his second beer much more slowly. " I was ready to ask for a phone book so I could look up the nearest psychiatric hospital."
"Don't worry. He's not nuts. Sneaky, ruthless an' inhuman, but not nuts."
"Nice to know."
"If you wanna see nuts, go take a peek at the agent you replaced. That... is nuts in it's ugliest form." Bobby responded, bitterness coloring his words.
Darien suddenly grew somber and angry. He glared at Bobby pointedly. "What?"
"You know damn well what."
"You've been thinkin' it ever since it happened. You just won't say it."
"I won't say it because it's not true. She's in pain. I'm trying to understand that and move past it, Bobby. I need to stop being angry about what she did. You're not helping."
"I know.... I'm sorry. She was actin' out of her grief, I get that. Right now it just... don't matter. I can't even think about forgivin' her yet."
When Darien reached out and took Bobby's hand in a gesture of comfort, the glint of his ring caught Danny's eye and suddenly a few of the oddities he'd noticed during the course of the day became not so odd.
"Oh, okay. So that's why I've been getting the OMC vibe so strong. You are."
"Are what?"
"OMC."
"Obviously Morally Corrupt?" Darien offered.
"Occasionally Mentally Cracked?" Bobby tossed out
"Organization of Male Cutpurses!"
When he was able to stop laughing, Danny finally responded.
"No, no... It means Old married Couple."
The other two sobered quickly. "Hey, don't worry about me, guys. My folks brought me up to believe a rose by any other name.... The heart wants what it wants and there's no use telling it something else is better for you. If you two have decided you love each other, I'm more than cool. I can practically guarantee you'll be a lot happier than the millions of people out there pretending they don't feel they way they feel. Now... you were going to tell me about the baby..."
Apparently recognizing when she was being discussed, even if her name hadn't been mentioned, Bobbi screeched gleefully and began bouncing up and down in her playpen, plainly asking for release and an introduction to the newcomer.
"Hang on, sweetie. No need for the aerobics. I'm comin'."
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THAT EVENING:
After another hour or so of conversation, Bobby drove Danny back to the Agency while Darien stayed with Roberta Claire. Finding him fascinating, she was reluctant to see the new agent go, but restrained herself to just one faint whimper. Once Hobbes returned, he and Darien spent the next few hours on domestic tasks and rehashing their time with Danny Masters. When dinnertime finally approached, a friendly argument set in. Darien wanted healthy food, Bobby wanted anything else. It was interrupted by a visitor.
"But it's what I'm craving. All the exercise today plus the extra QS session's got my appetite goin' crazy. I need the protein an' I want some miso soup so bad I can taste it."
"I told you no, Fawkes. You agree to a membership at my gym, then *maybe* I'll think about tryin' sushi."
"As long as I still have stretch marks, I'm not goin' anywhere near a locker room!"
"Gettin' rid of the stretch marks is what the gym is for!"
"Go see who's at the door, extortionist."
"The door ain't the topic of conversation. We were about to do some serious negotiatin', ri.... ght... Oh damn...."
As he opened the door, Bobby stumbled over the end of his sentence, stunned by the face that greeted him. "Viv? What the hell are you doin' here?"
"And a pleasant evening to you too, Robert. Are you going to let me in?"
"Wasn't plannin' on it. How did you know where to find me?"
"I finally had to resort to getting my lawyer involved. He used one of his private investigators...."
"Yeah, yeah. I shoulda guessed you'd be that underhanded.... "
"Underhanded indeed! What else was I supposed to do? You wouldn't talk to me on the phone, you refused to see me so that we could speak in person..."
"Look, cram it, Viv. I had good reasons for blowin' you off an' you know damn well...."
"Be that as it may, Robert, it's quite chilly out here. Let me in immediately."
For a moment, Bobby seriously considered tossing his ex an appropriately vulgar remark and shutting the door in her face, but he knew the less painful option was to step aside and let her enter.
"Fine. Only for a minute."
"I was hoping we could sit.... have a cup of coffee perhaps. This is a beautiful apartment, Robert. How long have you been here?"
"Thanks. None of your business. Look, just drop what whatever bomb you came here to deliver and get out, huh? This is my new home an' I don't want any nasty memories a'you in it."
"Really, Robert! We may be separated, but we can still act like civilized people."
"Your idea of civilized or mine? Whole different ballgame. An' the word is divorced. Signin' those papers turned out to be the best thing I ever did, too..."
"Robert, please stop it! I only came here to..."
"To what? That's a real good question. What the hell would ever make you think I'd wanna see you again?"
"Must you always curse? I only wondered.... if you might be available for dinner tonight."
"What?! You have just got to be kiddin'.... Get outta here, Viv. Now..."
"Wait! I need to... talk to someone. I... I left Brock yesterday."
"What, he got a hangnail or somethin'?"
"Don't be crude. He's gambled away almost all his money. He's practically destitute. I believed Brock was different, but he's like most men.... weak, useless creatures who can't stand on their own two feet for more than two minutes without a woman's hand under their elbow."
"Same old Viv. Say I love you, make a vow an' run for your life the second the water gets a little choppy. Like I said, gettin' away from you was the best choice I ever made. Why don't you...."
Whatever Bobby had intended to say next, his train of thought derailed and burst into flames when, from the corner of his eye, he saw Darien walk into the room with Roberta Claire in his arms. Utterly wrapped up in her smile, he was unaware of the visitor until he raised his eyes in response to his partner calling his name.
"Darien... go in the kitchen for a few minutes, wouldja?"
"No. Hey, Viv. Long time no see."
{Next time make it longer...} he thought but did not say, knowing his role was as Bobby's support, not second in command in the insult brigade.
"Fawkes...."
"We made a deal, Bobby. In person is better than on the phone, right? She's here.... go on and tell her. I got your back, you know that."
Reluctantly, Bobby turned back to his ex-wife, sighed and motioned her to a chair.
"I don't understand, Robert. What's going on? Who is this man and whose child is that?"
"Just... sit, okay? I got a story to tell an' you don't wanna be standin' up for it."
After a bit of hesitation, Vivian moved to sit in the chair Hobbes had pointed out and he dropped to the couch beside Darien. "Okay.... first off, this is my partner, Darien Fawkes. You met him once, but you never had a great memory. The baby is mine.... ours."
"Wait. Slow down, Robert. You're not making sense. A baby? You can't possibly have a baby. Who could stand you long enough to even *conceive* never mind bear a child?"
"Not "the baby", not "the child". She's my daughter... an' she has a name."
"Which is?"
"Roberta Claire."
"Named after you. Typical of your enormous ego. So... where is the child's mother?" she asked smugly, believing she knew the answer all too well.
"Dead. Complications with the birth."
This reply evaporated a great deal of Viv's arrogance, but it was swiftly replaced with false sympathy and mock concern which only drove Bobby's emotional temperature higher.
"Oh... Oh, I am sorry, Robert, but surely you can't mean you're raising her alone? It must be so... difficult for you."
Hobbes turned his gaze on Darien and Bobbi and, despite a warning shiver that told him he should hide his feelings from his jealous and vengeful ex-spouse, he couldn't keep his emotions from showing in his face.
"Nah. I'm not alone.... not anymore. Darien, he's been tryin' to get me to call you, tell you about our plans. I put it off an' put it off... I didn't wanna deal with you.... but he's right. You need to know this. I'm gettin' married again."
"Married? That's ridiculous, Robert. Who'd have you, a coma patient? Robert. When I'm speaking to you I'd appreciate your full attention.... oh my Lord. You said *our* plans. No... you're not... you are serious. Why didn't you call me? How long has it been this bad?"
"Bad? What're you babblin' about now...."
"When did you stop taking your pills?! You know the doctor warned you that if you stopped the medication you'd slip right back into the paranoia and then anyone could manipulate you! What did he say to get you to abduct this poor little girl?"
"Do you *ever* listen to yourself? Compared to you, Charlie Manson's playin' with a full deck an' two jokers.... Look, just calm down, okay?"
"Calm down? He's sitting there holding a stolen baby and you want me to calm down?!"
"That's enough. Time to go."
Finally realizing he would get nowhere while Viv was hysterical, Bobby rose, grabbing his ex's wrist to force her to move with him, and began to guide the woman toward the exit.
"Robert.... you're hurting me!"
"Payback's a bitch, just like you." he growled, flinging open the door. "I tried to tell him, ya know? She'll never change, I said. As long as Viv gets her way, she don't give a damn who she hurts an' she never will.... Darien says you got a right to this much an' he's usually on track, so here it is, but after this I don't ever wanna see your face again, got me? After Roberta's mom died, Darien saved my life. He kept me from followin' her outta this world like I wanted to. I asked him to help me raise my daughter an' somewhere along the way.... we fell in love. He gives me everything you never did.... all the things you never had to give plus a lotta stuff you'll never even understand. He's what I want and need now. We're gettin' married, real soon I hope, an' just in case I ain't made it clear enough how I feel yet, you should know you you're not invited. Get out."
"Robert, you can't blame me for what I was thinking. The whole situation is a little bizarre...."
"Oh, I blame you for a lotta stuff, lady. What you think.... that's the least of it. I've done my duty as your ex an' a decent human being. Do yours and leave."
"Ro.... Bobby...."
"Quit! Just... quit. I'm gonna try an' be happy. You go do the same with the next poor shlub who's dumb enough to let you wrap him around your finger. Wipe my existence outta your head, okay? I'll do you the same favor." Bobby told her wearily as he pushed her over the threshold and closed the door.
As Hobbes trudged back into the living room, he realized that Darien had placed Bobbi in her bassinet and was standing by the couch waiting for him, ready to give his partner whatever he needed. He could see all too clearly how hard Bobby was working to hold himself together and he instinctively opened his arms.
"C'mere, baby. It's okay. Lean on me, love..." Darien murmured as Hobbes almost fell into his embrace. "I'm so proud of you.... you did it. It's over now.... you're done. Let go if you want to.... cry it out... be sad if that's what you feel...."
"I'm not! I'm not sad...." Bobby contradicted him, struggling halfheartedly to pull away, aching for something he could touch and fight and physically subdue, instead of having to face intangible enemies. Darien recognized his sudden resistance as a symptom of his overwhelmed emotions and held him more tightly.
"Then what is it? Hmmm? Tell me."
"I'm mad! I'm so freakin' mad... I can't breathe! I wasted so much time... so much a'myself on somebody who didn't give a damn about me.... Why didn't I see it? Why didn't I know she couldn't love me..."
"Bobby... I don't have any answers. Please, don't let her do this to you. I'm so sorry she hurt you like this.... I love you. Long as you remember that.... it's always gonna be okay."
"I hate her.... I hate her for walkin' away, I hate her for makin' it look so easy. The day she left... you woulda thought she was goin out to get the car washed.... God... I hate the bitch..."
"Bobby, don't, okay? Don't waste anymore anger or tears on her. She's weak an' afraid.... that's all she is, all she ever will be. She can't help that. Don't cry over her anymore, baby. Stop givin' her all your power. Take it back, Bobby.... please take it back...."
"You don't understand...."
"Hell, I don't. I've got my own temptations, Hobbes.... people an' a life that could pull me back in if I let it.... if I gave up the power. Because of you, Bobbi, Eberts an' Claire I fight to stay here. I fight to keep what I have 'cause what I have is way too precious to ever lose. I love you, damn it. I love you, I want you, I need you.... Fight, Bobby. Fight for yourself.... fight for us."
Darien stopped speaking then, feeling he'd said the most important words, the ones Bobby truly needed to hear. Beyond that point, he simply held Bobby, stroking his back and waiting until his fiancée was ready to be let go.
"Geez... I messed up your shirt.... got it all wet. I'm sorry, man. I was actin' like a big dweeb, here...."
"No way. You were gettin' rid of some old pain you've been storin' up. You've needed to say that stuff for a long time. Maybe now you can start to heal."
"Maybe.... We've still got your talk with Kev to get past."
"Yeah. Not exactly lookin' forward to that."
"You know I'll be there, just like you were here for me tonight."
"That's the only thing that's keepin' me from scrappin' the idea all together. Man, I am now officially ready to chew on a table leg. You ready to go eat?"
"No sushi."
"Okay, okay. Surf an' turf?"
"I say I'm starvin', but I need to throw some water on my face an'... you're gonna have to change that shirt."
"Yeah... gimme ten minutes."
"To get Bobbi into her jacket? I'll give you twenty at the outside."
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TBC........