As promised, Gerri comes over one afternoon and lets Roman read the speech that he had planned to read at his dad's funeral to her. He paces the room as he talks about what a great man his father was, "and don't I perhaps remind you of him, just a little?" He pauses for the obligatory laughter and Gerri rolls her eyes.
When he's finished, he sinks down beside her, folding the speech away.
"That was lovely, Roman," she says.
"Too bad nobody got to hear it."
"Your dad knew how you felt about him."
"I called him a cunt the last time I spoke to him."
"And he would have admired you for that."
It's what he needed to hear. "Do you remember when I asked you if we should get married?"
"Yeah. You also said you wanted us to cannibalise each other. I assumed you were joking."
"Well, yeah. I was joking about that part. But the marriage part, I still think that's a good idea."
Gerri sighs. "Roman. I'm old enough to be your mother. I've known you since you were a baby."
"Yeah, you dirty old lady. Imagine if the genders were reversed, huh? You'd be cancelled so fast." He draws his finger across his throat.
"Our relationship has so far consisted of me verbally abusing you so you can get off, and you sending me unwanted photographs of your genitalia."
"I bet you kept them all though."
"Yes, for the pending lawsuit," says Gerri drily. "You've also fired me several times in the last week alone. Do you really think that's a good basis for a marriage?"
Roman thinks about this. His instinct is to carry on making jokes, but he forces himself to be serious and as honest as possible.
"I think it could be, yeah. I mean, I know I'm not normal. I'm not even a real person. But the thing is, I kind of fucking love you. And I would try so hard. You wouldn't ever have to worry about me leaving you for someone else, because I literally can't go there with anyone else. You're the one. You're my one. Let's get married."
"Can I think about it?"
"Yeah, sure."
"I've thought about it. It's a ludicrous idea, Roman. But maybe," she hesitates, "maybe we could, I don't know, go on a date? And go from there."
"A date?" he repeats. He tries to think what people do on dates.
"Yeah, a date. Dinner and a movie, maybe."
"And then marriage?"
"One day, maybe."
He smiles, his first genuine smile in a while, tears pricking the backs of his eyes. "Okay. Let's go on a date."
A/N: Title from Brave by Sara Bareilles