Author's Notes: Contains spoilers for and actual dialogue from Episode 3.1

What Voicemail?

Chapter 1

Day 1

Maeve and Otis strode briskly from the main building and headed towards the steps. They reached the top of the steps and their pacing slowed.

Otis hesitated a moment then asked, with no hope of any answer, "So why aren't we friends anymore?"

Maeve leaned against the railing at the top of the stairs and after a moment, Otis leaned against the railing opposite her. He watched as she stared at the ground for a moment then raised her head to look directly at him.

"Nice beard," she said with a softer version of the sardonic tone that he fondly remembered but which he had been trying to forget.

"What's your point?" he asked with an edgy undertone that she wished she had never heard.

"Nothing," she said, disappointed. "We're just in very different places."

She pressed her hands together to stop herself from chewing her nails and glanced around, uncomfortable, before turning back to see him staring glumly at the ground.

"If that's what you want to call it," he said in a flat, closed-off tone.

Maeve frowned at him, surprised, disappointed and more than a little hurt by his attitude. She gave a soft bitter chuckle and took a breath, was about to speak and then realised there would be no point.

"Bye, Otis," she said and started to walk toward the next building.

Otis glared at the ground then sighed and turned to look at her retreating form. "Maeve?" he called, steeling himself.

Maeve turned, trying not to set herself up for disappointment once again. "Yeah?" she asked, hopeful despite her best efforts.

"I meant it, Maeve," he said. "I was unbelievably stupid and I was so proud of you. I still am."

Maeve frowned, puzzled. "Proud of what?"

"The Quiz Heads. Getting up there. Winning. Proving you were a team player, after all."

Maeve was touched by the words but said, bitterly, "It would have been really nice to hear that on the day, Otis. I could have really done with hearing that from you on the day."

"I said it on the day," Otis protested.

"You said nothing, Otis."

"I know a voicemail isn't in person-," Otis said then heard the chime of his phone. He reached into his pocket.

"What voicemail?" asked Maeve.

Otis looked at the name onscreen and saw her message and sighed. He put his phone back into his pocket. "I've got to go," he said, shoulders slumping as he started to walk away.

"Otis," Maeve called after him. "What voicemail?"

Otis turned and Maeve could see the hurt and annoyance on his face. "I can't believe… I know you can be mean, Maeve, but this is cruel. I poured my heart out to you and I can understand you ignoring me and I do deserve it if you feel you have to hurt me a bit in return but I never thought you would be this cruel. I was drunk. What's your excuse?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Otis," Maeve said, shaking her head, confused.

Otis started turning away, pressing his lips together.

"I'm serious, Otis. I don't know what you're talking about," Maeve called.

Otis turned back to her and studied the genuine confusion on her face.

"You really didn't get a voicemail from me?" he asked.

"I haven't had any sort of message from you since… since… the last one." Maeve's voice trailed away.

Otis stared at Maeve, stunned and then said, "I left… I left a voicemail for you while you were up there live in front of the cameras being brilliant. I thought… I'd just spoken to my dad and he said something and I just thought… I had something I needed to say to you. So I called you, said some things and…"

His phone chimed.

"…then nothing," he said, grimly, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

"Persistent, aren't they?" Maeve asked, trying to regain the balance she had made him lose.

Otis glanced at the message he received. Where are you?

Maeve watched Otis press his lips together and begin to return his phone to his pocket.

"What?" she asked, reaching for the tone she had often used with him when things were good between them. "You keeping a shag waiting?"

Maeve saw him startle momentarily and realised she had unknowingly hit a bullseye.

"Oh," she breathed.

"Um, I have to go," Otis muttered.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Maeve murmured.

"We'll talk later," he said, then looked directly at her. "It musn't have saved. You need to get a better carrier."

He turned and started to walk away again.

"What did it say?" Maeve asked, her voice feeling fragile in her ears.

"Like I said, proud of you. Unbelievably stupid." Otis turned back to face her and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for what I said, Maeve. That was really cruel and wrong."

Maeve nodded. "It's okay," she said, softly.

"I'll catch you around, Maeve," Otis said and hurried back down the steps.

"Was that everything?" Maeve called after him, hoping she wasn't sounding too desperate.

Otis said nothing as he hurried along the path running the length of the building.

Maeve stared after him, mind whirling with two thoughts.

He did try to make it right

and

Fuck, he's got a new girlfriend.

Maeve hurried into the Science Lab and glanced around to find Aimee.

"You're late, Wiley," Mr Hendricks said sternly.

"I know, sir," Maeve said. "I told you we should have used a condom."

Maeve hurried to the bench where Aimee sat as titters spread around the classroom.

"That's not funny, Wiley," Mr Hendricks spluttered. "She was joking," he said to the class. "She was joking," he said to the girls in the row closest to him as they glowered at him, threateningly.

"Hey, Babe," Aimee said as Maeve sat down beside her.

"Hey, Aimes," Maeve said.

"What's wrong? You look as if you're drinking champagne at the same time you're doing a poo."

Maeve blinked, thought for a moment, then said, "That fits."

"What's up?" Aimee asked, brightly.

"Otis sent me a voicemail."

"What'd it say?" Aimee asked, excited.

"I don't know. I didn't get it."

"Then how do you know he sent one?"

"He told me."

"He sent you a voicemail then he told you he sent you a voicemail?"

"Yeah," Maeve said.

"Is he going wobbly in the brain?"

"No."

"Why didn't you get it?"

"I don't know. I think my phone carrier's fucked," Maeve muttered, glumly.

"So does he know you didn't get it?"

"Yes."

"Did he tell you what was in it?"

"That he was unbelievably stupid."

"Yes, he was," agreed Aimee.

"And that he was proud of me."

"Proud of you for what?"

"The Quiz Heads. He said he was watching me and he was proud of me and he had to call me and leave a message."

"Have they done a repeat?" Aimee asked.

"I don't think so," Maeve said, puzzled.

"Do you think he recorded it?" Aimee said with a touch of admiration.

"I don't know."

"Do you think he would have wanked while watching it?"

"Aimee," Maeve laughed, finally realising the misunderstanding.

"That'd be disgusting, if he did that," Aimee said, crinkling her nose.

"It wasn't a recording," Maeve said. "He didn't send it today. He sent it while he was watching me live. He sent it on the day they took mum and Elsie."

"So he wasn't being a dick?" Aimee breathed.

"He must have been thinking I'm a real cow for not responding."

"So why didn't he come and see you and ask you if you'd read the message then?"

"He was respecting my boundaries. He thought I heard it, took my silence as meaning I didn't care about fixing things. He left me alone. He did the right thing. God, that must have been hurting him. No wonder he was like he was this morning."

"Well, he knows you're not a cow now. Maybe, you think, he still loves you?"

Maeve's face fell and she murmured, "No, um, no, I… I think we're just going to be friends."

"Why?" Aimee asked, concerned and disappointed.

Maeve hesitated then said, sadly, "He has a new girlfriend."

"He told you?" Aimee asked, dismayed.

"He got called away for a quick shag," Maeve said.

"How do you know it was a shag? His mum might have needed him," Aimee said.

"He doesn't have a poker face," Maeve said, ruefully, crinkling her lips.

"Awww, babe," Aimee said sympathetically, gently rubbing Maeve's shoulder.

"No, it's fine," Maeve said, patting Aimee's hand, forcing a bright smile. "Our friendship was good. Our friendship is what I needed the night they took mum away. And we can get that back. We've got a chance of getting that back," she amended.

"You will," Aimee said.

"I hope so," Maeve said, ostentatiously crossing her fingers.

Aimee ostentatiously crossed her fingers as well.

"So, who do you think his girlfriend is?" Aimee asked.

"I don't know," Maeve said, evasively.

"Hey, you don't think it's…?" Aimee asked, concerned.

"I hope not," Maeve muttered, grimly.

Otis sat at a window table in the study room, staring at Eric summarising the recent revelation.

"You're having casual sex with the most popular girl in school?" Eric asked.

"I know," Otis said in a tone that Eric thought wasn't as enthusiastic as it should have been.

"I'm so proud of you," Eric said, slapping the table enthusiastically.

"It's amazing," Otis said, uncertainly.

"I'm so proud of you," Eric repeated.

"And there's no strings. So nobody gets hurt," Otis said, sighing.

"Mm," Eric agreed, dubiously.

"I have to break up with her," Otis said.

"What?" Eric asked, shocked.

"Maeve didn't get the voicemail," Otis said.

"What?" Eric asked, stunned.

"I was just talking to her before the Kyle shit happened. Maeve said we weren't friends anymore and I asked her why we weren't friends and she didn't say anything and I was so desperate I tried again. I told her what I said."

"That you loved her?"

"No, no. That would be inappropriate. I had already told her how I felt – thought I had told her how I felt – so, no, I was not saying that again. That was over. But I could at least try apologising again. Tell her how proud of her I was. Maybe then she would forgive me."

"And she said she hadn't heard the message?"

"Yes," Otis said.

"How did she not hear the message?"

"I don't know. She must have a shit carrier. Can't afford a better one. It mustn't have been saved."

"So did you two sit down and talk about everything else you said?" Eric asked, hopefully.

"No," Otis said, ruefully. "I had to go off and see Ruby."

"You did what?"

"She texted me to meet her. I was keeping her waiting," Otis said sheepishly.

"You just found out Maeve had not heard the message where you grovelled over broken glass and declared your undying affection for her and you went to shag Ruby?" Eric asked, incredulous.

"I wasn't going to have sex with Ruby. I was going to break up with her. I mean, I have to break up with her before I tell Maeve I love her again."

"Tell Maeve and then break up with Ruby. She'll never know."

"I think Maeve knows I'm having sex with someone."

"How?" Eric asked.

"I don't have a poker face."

"So why haven't you broken up with Ruby already? You were just with her."

"We found out Kyle was doing the Sex Clinic. And she was so upset we never even got started, she wouldn't even talk to me. I'll do it when she's calmed down."

Maeve opened the door to Isaac's caravan and stepped in, a spring in her step and a small pastry box in her arms.

"Afternoon, dickstain," she said. "You decent?"

Isaac placed his brush on the table and spun his wheelchair toward her.

"That is a matter of opinion and you are supposed to ask that question before you open the door. I could have been engaging the services of Barbara from P17, for all you know."

"Gross me out again and you won't get one of these," Maeve said, placing the pastry box on the table.

"What are they?" Isaac asked, curiously.

"Eccles Cakes," Maeve said, opening the container.

"Joe's favourite," Isaac said, knowingly. "What's his mission?"

"Getting a new carrier for my phone. This one's fucked. Lost a very important voicemail."

Isaac did his best to keep his breath steady, watching Maeve warily as she walked over to the fridge. "How?" he asked.

"Doesn't look as if it saved. Drink need refreshing?" she asked.

"Chillax, thanks," Isaac said, doing his best to keep his voice steady. "What was the voicemail?"

Maeve opened the fridge and chose a drink at random for herself and the requested one for Isaac.

"Something important someone wanted to tell me," Maeve said, closing the fridge and walking back to the table.

"Something about the Gifted & Talented Program?" Isaac asked.

"More important than the Gifted & Talented Program," Maeve said, settling a straw into Isaac's new drink. She lifted the old one and noticed some drink was left in the bottle.

"There is nothing more important than the Gifted & Talented Program for you, Maeve Wiley," Isaac said, allowing an edge to be heard in his voice.

"My life, Isaac," Maeve said, drinking the remainder of his drink through the straw in the bottle. "My choice."

Isaac pressed his lips together and watched as she walked to the sink, took out the straw and placed it on the tray and placed the bottle in the recycling bin.

"I will not argue," Isaac said. "Today."

"You better not," Maeve said as she walked over to the lounge and flopped onto it. "Or I'll eat your Eccles Cake."

Isaac moved his wheelchair to his usual position in front of her. She smiled gently at him as he intoned the familiar words, "Tell me three positive things about your day."

"How long are we going to keep doing this shit?" Maeve asked, wearily amused.

"Until my spiritual imbalance is improved," Isaac said, mocking himself.

"You've been unbalanced for weeks," Maeve said.

"I go through phases," Isaac said. "Just ask Joe."

"You first, today," Maeve said and stretched.

"Your glorious presence in our caravan, I managed to do a fiddly little curly bit in the corner which you are not seeing until it is finished and Joe has been gone for three hours."

"That's mean," Maeve said.

"You're the expert," Isaac said.

Maeve gave him the finger.

"He was farting everywhere," Isaac said.

Maeve gave a small snort, sighed, pondered and said, "First day, last year, Hope."

"Something's given you hope?" Isaac asked, intrigued.

"New Headteacher's name. She danced onto the stage at assembly."

"What kind of dance?"

"A dance dance. It was cool. She seems cool," Maeve said and settled into a comfortable silence, closing her eyes.

Isaac studied her and his jaw clenched. "Did you see yer man Otis?"

"'My man Otis," murmured Maeve, amused, without opening her eyes.

Isaac grunted.

"Yeah, I saw him," Maeve said, still not opening her eyes. "It was his voicemail."

A flicker of dread crossed Isaac's face. "Oh?" he said, his tone giving the best impression of his normal disdain when the subject arose.

"He did apologise to me. The night they took mum."

Isaac hesitated then asked, "He told you that?"

Maeve sighed and opened her eyes and stared at Isaac, wearily.

"It's conv—" Isaac began.

"He's not lying," Maeve said, sitting forward.

"How do—"

"Fuck, Isaac," Maeve said, frustrated. "You saw him at his worst two fucking minutes since I ever met him and you think that's all he is. How would you like to be judged forever by your worst two fucking minutes?"

Maeve glared at Isaac who held her gaze for several long moments before looking away. "Yeah," he murmured.

There was a tense silence between them that lasted minutes.

Maeve let out an occasional sigh, cursing herself for never learning to steer clear of the subject.

Isaac stared at the floor, the defences against the guilt developing hairline cracks.

"Maeve…" he began and he could hear the hoarseness in his voice.

"Forget it," Maeve said with a sigh, standing and walking over to the cupboard to get the dessert plates.

Isaac watched her as she collected the forks as well and walked to the table, sitting in what they had recently been thinking of as her chair. He spun his wheelchair toward her.

She took out a cake and placed it on a plate and picked up a fork. "Come on, into position," she murmured.

"Maeve…" Isaac began again.

"Forget it," Maeve repeated, a little more forcefully. "Let's just eat our Eccles Cakes."

She moved the fork with a portion of cake on it close to his mouth and waited. She looked at him, saw the distress deep within his eyes.

"Trust me to know who I can trust. Please," Maeve said, fondly.

After a moment, Isaac used his lips to pull the cake into his mouth.

"We're just going to be friends, anyway," Maeve said. "I hope we're going to be friends."

Isaac gazed at her as he gently chewed.

"He has a new girlfriend," she explained.

Otis stepped onto the balcony table at his house and glanced at Jean in the end chair, bowl of popcorn nestled in the crook of her arm, notebook in her lap. He sat down.

Jean held out the bowl of popcorn to him. "Wanna watch a movie tonight? How about When Harry Met Sally…?"

Otis took the bowl, settled it on the table and took a piece of popcorn.

"Or…" Jean continued as Otis' phone chimed. "How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days? You choose."

Otis looked at the message, hesitated then began to type a response. Sorry. Can't make it. Something came up

"How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days," Otis said.

"Good," Jean said then began the ever-increasing struggle to rise.

Otis' phone chimed again. It's supposed to come up out here

He snorted fondly then typed. Need to talk tomorrow

What about

Tomorrow

Alright we can start having sex at your place

Not that. Talk tomorrow. Will text you

Tell me what about

…

OT?

Author's Notes: Opinion of Season 3 - Imperfect but left me with a better feeling than S2.

As with Season 2, I have thoughts that I may need to put into a story while still working on my happy story.

Will get next chapter out as soon as I can.

I know the Gifted & Talented Program wasn't mentioned until later but I needed something to go there. She probably made queries about it last term.