Thanks again to GorgeousSmile for looking this over for me!
...
Maureen giggled and sipped her beer, glad to momentarily tear her eyes away from the girl who sat at the bar next to her. She couldn't even remember the blonde's name, but she knew it was something weird and Upper East Side-sounding. She couldn't imagine ever sleeping with her, much less dating her or moving in with her. But she was fun to flirt with, and right now that was all Maureen needed.
Because Joanne was busy. Joanne was always busy, always working, always so busy she never had quite enough time for Maureen. Usually the drama queen accepted this situation when Joanne was working on a difficult case, and she prided herself on being mature enough to give her girlfriend space. But the case Joanne was working on now didn't seem to Maureen to be that important; it had been going on for weeks and if Maureen had been involved she would have been more than happy to have called a stalemate by now. But Joanne was apparently too professional for that, or something.
Maureen was startled from her thoughts by the blonde's hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?" the girl asked, looking concerned.
Maureen smiled, and took another mouthful of beer and a wild stab at her companion's name. "I'm fine, Claudia, baby. I just zoned out there for a second. What were you saying?"
Claudia – that must have been her name, because she didn't object – shook her hair and smiled, revealing a too-cute dimple on her right cheek. "What do you say we head back to my place?"
Maureen was about to accept, just for the hell of it, when her cell phone rang. She dug in her pocket to find it, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw the call was from Joanne. She answered almost nervously, biting down the urge to ask Joanne what she thought she was doing calling when Maureen was technically about to cheat on her.
"Pookie?"
She didn't hear Joanne's response, because Claudia snorted and giggled, louder than Maureen had thought it possible to giggle, "Pookie?!"
She did catch Joanne's frustrated sigh, however. "Where are you, Honeybear? Is that another girl?"
Her unspoken again hung on the connection between them, and her sigh sent a rush of static to Maureen's ear. The diva turned to Claudia, putting her hand over the mouthpiece. "Excuse me. It was really nice talking to you and all-"
The blonde's mouth fell open. "Are you ditching me?"
Maureen rolled her eyes, gulped the rest of her beer and headed out of the bar into the quiet privacy of a phone booth, ignoring Claudia's open-mouthed squeaks of shock, before holding her phone to her ear again. "What were you saying, Pookie?"
"What the hell is going on?" Joanne demanded, her voice shaking.
Maureen giggled. Joanne was so over-protective sometimes. She didn't even consider the possibility that her beer was going to her head as she babbled, "Baby, nothing's going on. I just went out and had a couple beers all on my lonesome, and I was talking to this hot blonde-"
"Talking?" Joanne interrupted. "I'm sure that's all you were doing."
"Wha- Pookie, it was! Don't you trust me?"
"Not really," Joanne admitted. Maureen sobered up at her tone, which flitted between desperate and vulnerable. A shiver ran down her spine as she imagined what Joanne's face must look like. Like it so often did, her fear only made her angry, though at what she wasn't sure.
"Would it hurt to try?" snapped the diva angrily. "I was just… okay, so I flirted, but is that such a fucking crime?"
"Last time we fought, you promised you wouldn't!"
Maureen let out a bitter laugh. "Okay, Joanne, you know I only said that to make you happy! This is me we're talking about, remember?"
Joanne bit back a sob, and it came out sounding like a half-hearted hiccup. "Honeybear, I love you. It would mean so much to me if you did try."
Despite the seriousness of the situation, alcohol was alcohol, and once it was in Maureen's system it refused to leave. It was the beer, and not anything else, that made her yell, "Stop trying to make me into something I'm not, Joanne! We both know that's never gonna happen!"
"I don't believe you!"
Maureen held the phone away from her ear in shock, sure Joanne's yell must have damaged her hearing. Her girlfriend's now slightly tinny voice continued, "You're so childish! Just because making me happy requires effort on your part, you're not prepared to do it! I'm sick of being the one who cleans up after you, and who always comforts you and loves you no matter what, only to be pushed aside and neglected because you want to have fun!"
Maureen let out a laugh that, had it had legs, would have swaggered. "Just because I wear the pants, baby, don't take it out on me."
Joanne's frustrated scream caused Maureen to wince. "Don't expect to be welcome home tonight," the lawyer snarled, and hung up.
"Fine," Maureen spat, and, shoving the phone deep into her pocket, headed for Avenue B to crash on Mark and Roger's couch.
…
Maureen woke up at six the next morning, and snuggled closer to Joanne, only to realise that "Joanne" was actually the back of the couch, and that the memories of their fight the previous night refused to leave her head. Sighing, she squeezed her eyes closed and tried to forget, but to no avail. Joanne's words rang through her head, and no matter how many cups of black coffee she made herself, she couldn't shake the dull headache they gave her.
She knew she should try harder for Joanne, and she knew Joanne expected more from her, but every time she deferred to Joanne's wishes it felt like she lost a piece of herself. If Maureen wore a shirt with a collar to Joanne's company dinner, despite how sexy she knew she looked and how much Joanne appreciated it, she wasn't truly herself, and she didn't think the lawyer had figured that out yet.
Still, Joanne loved Maureen, and Maureen damn well loved Joanne too, no matter how hard it was. Her mind made up, Maureen left the loft and made her way back to Joanne's apartment. She would win her Pookie back, and keep her, no matter what. This time she was serious.
…
Joanne walked into her apartment, exhausted, and wondered if Maureen had decided to show her face yet. She called out the diva's name, but got no reply. Deciding Maureen needed more time to cool off, Joanne headed for the fridge to get herself a much-needed beer, and almost tripped over the ice bucket that had somehow found its way onto the kitchen floor. She flipped the light switch to discover that the bucket was filled with, well, ice, and contained a bottle of expensive champagne. Joanne knelt to pick the bucket up, and the note attached to the bottle caught her eye.
Look on the counter.
Joanne did so, bemused, and found a bouquet of red roses tied together with a new pair of suspenders. She grinned, lifting the flowers to her face to inhale their scent. There was another note sitting on the counter under them.
In the bedroom. Bring the champagne.
Joanne walked down the hall softly, not knowing what to expect. A smile threatened to grace her lips, but she bit it down, determined to stay mad this time. When she pushed open the bedroom door, though, all thoughts of being mad flew from her mind.
The lights were off, and the bedroom was instead lit by dozens of candles, their scents mingling to create a perfect aroma. The floor was littered with roses, and in the centre of the bed sat Maureen, wearing hands-down the sexiest black lacy lingerie Joanne had ever seen. The lawyer stared at the room, speechless.
Maureen got off the bed and wrapped her arms around Joanne's neck, kissing her deeply. Joanne dropped the ice bucket and kissed Maureen back, all her anger gone.
Maureen pulled back and smiled, cupping Joanne's face in her hands tenderly.
"What do you say, Pookie?" she whispered. "Are you still mad?"
...
Note: the last chapter of this series (Mimi's) will be rated M, simply because of the situation and the themes. but don't let that stop you from reading! :D