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abvjTitle: We Could Never Be Jack and Diane
Summary: Maybe the problem isn’t really Bobby. Maybe it’s her. PJ's not jealous. She doesn't do jealous. She's just adjusting, that's all.
Rating: pg-13
Author's Notes: 2,851 words. Post 2x02. Written for shirasade over at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
yuletide who wanted My Boys fic dealing with the PJ/Bobby/Brendan dynamic. First fic in this fandom. Con-crit is both appreciated and encouraged. All mistakes are mine. These characters, however, are not. Enjoy.
“You’re staring.”
“I am so not.”
“You really are.”
“It’s just,” PJ pauses and takes another swig of her beer. “She’s touching his chest. Every five seconds she’s touching his chest. I mean, is that honestly truly necessary? Is this some kind of new dating ritual I should know about?”
Another swig of beer, another glance out of the corner of her eye and Stephanie is still staring. “What?” she asks defensively and Stephanie does this mock surrender thing where she holds up her hands and backs away. PJ feels sorry for half a second and then glances back towards the bar where Bobby was doing a very good job of demonstrating the art of leaning and loses the ability to care.
“He’s leaning now. I swear, do they have to do this in public? Is it really all that necessary to subject Crowley’s loyal patrons to this kind of disgusting display?”
“You said you were over him.”
“Stephanie,” she draws out the name, fingers the beer bottle in-between her fingers. “I am over him. I’m just….”
“Jealous? Enraged?” Stephanie supplies. “Wishing you’d sexed him up in Rome like you had originally planned?”
“I am not jealous.”
“Ha. That’s real convincing with that vein popping out of your forehead and everything.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
Bobby touches Elsa’s shoulder and smiles broadly. PJ orders another drink.
+
Alright, so she cares. Big deal, okay? She’s allowed. And she isn’t jealous, not even a little, tiny bit – no matter what Stephanie said. She was just affected. It’s just an adjustment that’s all. Going from zero to one eighty in the span of a day, it takes some getting used to. Two weeks ago she was planning to have a relationship with the guy (completely unbeknownst to him, of course) and now he’s planning on having a relationship with somebody else. These sorts of things can affect people.
It affects her.
Stephanie leaves and PJ stays, orders another drink and keeps on brooding. She strategically situates herself at the table so her back is to the bar, and plays Candy-Land with Mike and Brando to kill the time. Only she’s feeling a bit in the mood and decides to up the stakes a little bit. A shot for every time someone passes you, two shots for every time you get banned to the chocolate forest or whatever, waterfall every time you lose a round.
Every time she takes a look over at Bobby and Elsa (and seriously, what the hell kind of name was that anyway?) Every time she glances towards Kenny who’s getting more action tonight than she’s gotten all year, she takes another shot and follows it with a swig of beer just because.
The brooding comes and goes in spurts, usually ends after a shot, begins again when she appraises Elsa out of the corner of her eye and wonders why her hair can’t be that pretty, why her pants don’t fit her that right. It’s not so much that she’s a self conscious person, mind you, because she’s not, PJ just wonders what she could do, what she could change about herself to make somebody give her just a miniscule amount of the attention Bobby is giving her.
And maybe that’s where the problem truly lies, she starts to think as Brendan gets sent back to square one and Mike inches that much closer to winning. Maybe the problem isn’t really Bobby. Maybe it’s her. It’s loneliness. Maybe she wasn’t jealous of not having Bobby, maybe it was just her being jealous of not having anybody.
Maybe she didn’t really liked Bobby, she just liked the idea of Bobby.
PJ wishes Stephanie was there to explain it to her, because that’s what she usually did at time like these – explained to PJ the feelings that PJ didn’t even know she was having. She thinks about calling her for a second, asking her to come back, but Mike’s grumbling distracts her.
“It’s just not fair,” Mike grumbles and PJ looks up to see him starring at Kenny. “This is like my own personal hell.”
“I know,” PJ says and she throws her arms open and Brendan’s eyes go wide and he reaches out to keep her beer from falling over. “Like what the hell do we have to do, right?”
“Exactly,” Mike exclaims and they high five each other, and high five Brendan, too.
Bobby’s at the table a second later, picking up his jacket.
“I’m going to head out,” he says and looks back over his shoulder to where Elsa is standing awkwardly. PJ thinks she’s too weird for Bobby. “We’re going to head out,” he corrects and Mike and Brendan offer high fives and congratulatory remarks.
PJ rolls her eyes. “You sure you wanna do that? I mean you only just met her.” she asks before she can stop herself.
“Yeah,” he draws out the word like he’s actually considering it and smiles in that way she hates. “I’m sure. She is pretty great.”
“She’s something all right.”
Bobby gives her a funny look and PJ raises her beer to him in mock salute. When he leaves, she watches him a little longer than is necessary.
“Anyone want more shots?”
+
“You are so drunk.”
“No I’m not,” PJ says, pulling away from Brendan as they enter the apartment. She stumbles a little bit and ends up having the hold on to the door frame for support. “Okay,” she breathes, and the room starts to tilt. “Maybe just a little.”
Brendan, ever faithful Brendan, wraps an arm around her waist and helps her move forward. “What’s gotten into you?” he asks, his voice next to her ear and she shivers and moves closer into him out of habit.
She giggles. “I’m drunk, couldn’t you tell?”
“Yeah,” he laughs. “You’re breath reeks. Chew some gum, will ya?”
Somewhere in the middle of the living room, her feet stop listening to her brain and she stops walking all together. Her head starts to spin and she tries to remember the last time she was this drunk. Freshman year of college maybe? After Thor left the first time? She can’t really remember. She grew up with Andy and could drink any boy under the table by her sophomore year of college, and she knows how to handle her liquor, which is why this is kind of surprising. Although she figures those last four shots were four too many. You know what they say about hindsight, though.
“PJ you’re gonna have to help me here,” Brendan grumbles and her stomach lurches up, somewhere near her throat.
“Brend –“
“Oh, Jesus, you aren’t going to puke are you?”
“Maybe?”
“Ugh,” he says and somehow manages to lift her up and into his arms – if she wasn’t so drunk she’d make some teasing comment about knights and armor, but her head isn’t functioning properly. “Just hold it until we’re in your room okay? That way it’s all on you.”
“I slept with Bobby,” she just sort of says it, the words spilling out of her mouth in some form of verbal diarrhea and Brendan stops short, stumbling slightly and manages to drop her flat on her ass in the process.
“Ow, Brend, seriously, what the hell?”
“Sorry,” he says, holding out a hand to help her up. He pulls it away as soon as she reaches for it, though. “Sorry,” he repeats, and even in her drunken haze she realizes that he doesn’t sound like he actually means it. “While you were in Rome?”
“What?” she asks. “God, Brendan, I think you broke my ass,” she breathes, rubbing her butt. He stands next to her with his arms on his hips and it takes a second for her to remember that he had asked her a question. “Oh, no. Last year?”
“And I’m just now finding out about it?”
PJ chews the inside of her cheek and tries to decide which bothers her more – the pain in her ass or the fact that she feels like she’s going to puke any second.
“It was a secret?”
“Was that what tonight was about? The drinking and the looks?”
“Brando,” she whines, trying to get up but falling back down again. He doesn’t move to help her. “Why are we talking about this?”
“You brought it up.”
“Come on,” she says, drawing out the word for as long as she can manage. Her head hurts something fierce and she forces her eyes shut tight to stop the room from spinning.
“I can’t believe this.”
“Believe what? People sleep together, shit happens –“
Brendan sighs and shakes his head. “You left. You left to go get your keys and you just… You…”
“What IS wrong with you? What are you talking about?” She peers at him closely, or as close as she can mange in her state. “Are you drunk?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“I’m drunk!”
“Exactly my point! PJ, I haven’t seen you drunk since our freshman year of college. You can’t even stand!”
“If you’d help me,” she mutters, using all the strength she has to push herself up onto her elbows. “I’d stand just fine.”
“Peej,” he whines and she just falls backwards on the floor with a sound thump. “Fine,” he sighs, and reaches down to help her up. “Come on.”
PJ sits up slowly. “Thank you,” she says, letting out a long whoosh of air, exasperated.
Brendan helps her, supporting her with an arm around her waist as they made their way towards her bedroom. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this conversation, though.”
“Seriously, it doesn’t even matter that much,” she tells him, giggling as she kicks off her shoes and falls, rather ungracefully, face down on her bed.
The last thing she remembers before being surrounded by total blackness was the sound of his mirthless snicker.
+
Morning comes full of harsh sunlight and a drum pound pound pounding in her head. There’s banging in the kitchen and PJ winces when she opens her eyes to glance at the clock.
12:45. Jesus.
The night before comes back in random spurts – Crowley’s, Bobby and Elsa, Brendan and something about keys. PJ groans inwardly and wishes she’d invested in more durable curtains, the black kind that blocks out all forms of light.
It takes her five minutes to fully open her eyes and another seven to actually conjure up the energy to get up. When she finally makes it out of her room around one, Brendan looks smug as she makes it into the kitchen.
He makes a show out of checking a watch he doesn’t have. “I was just getting ready to go see if you were still alive.”
PJ rolls her eyes as she slides into a seat across from him. “Bite me.”
“Did you puke?”
“Have you ever known me to puke?”
“Once.”
“That doesn’t count.”
Brendan rolls his eyes and stands and walks over to the coffee maker. “I held your hair back for an hour. It counts.”
“That wasn’t because I was drunk. That was because it was some stupid pink frilly fruity concoction –“
He grins and pushes the freshly poured cup of coffee towards her. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Peej.”
She smiles in return, half bitterly, half thankful and he passes her the sports section of the paper as soon as he finished it. The silence is easy, comfortable, them and she’s thankful for Brendan in ways he’ll never know.
“So you and Bobby, huh?”
Then there’s that.
PJ groans inwardly and hides behind the paper. “Stop.”
“You can’t just lay that on me and expect me to forget it.”
“I was drunk.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, snatching the paper out of her hand. “Talk.”
PJ takes a long sip of her coffee and shrugs her shoulders. “We slept together. Once. That’s all.”
“And now you’re jealous?”
“PSH. Please,” she does her fake laugh thing and it’s no surprise that he sees right through it. “I’m not jealous. I don’t get jealous.”
Brendan raises a skeptical eyebrow. “I had to carry you, literally carry you into bed last night. You’re going to sit there and tell me that it had nothing to do with Bobby and his newfound love?”
PJ avoids eye contact and fidgets with the edge of the paper. She’s known Brendan for longer than she can count on her fingers and it’s no easier to lie to him than it is to lie to herself. “It’s just… an adjustment. He just met her and now they’re dating? I don’t know, Brando, it’s just… weird.”
Another silence and Brendan seems occupied in processing.. PJ thinks about making a move to get up, to leave before this conversation ventures somewhere she’s not comfortable with ( like into territory including thoughts and feelings because she’s PJ and she’d just rather not, thanks) but he speaks up before she gets the chance.
“Is that why you invited him to Rome?”
“No?”
“No?”
“Maybe.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
PJ flicks a crumb across the table at him. “Why does it matter?”
Now it’s Brendan’s turn to avoid eye contact. “It doesn’t.”
“Good. Then we don’t have to talk about it anymore.”
He opens his mouth to say something before closing it again. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
Silence again and PJ reaches forward to steal a piece of his bagel. She catches Brendan looking at her again, eyebrow raised and it unnerves her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re acting weird.”
Another silence, another look and PJ groans.
“It’s just… Okay. I mean….”
“Spit it out.”
“I think you’re just lonely.”
“Lonely?”
“Yeah,” Brendan clears his throat, all nervous like and she resists the urge to laugh. “I mean, come on, it’s been a while –“
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. It has not been a while –“
“Well, I mean, it’s Bobby. Bobby. You can’t like him… It’s Bobby!”
“So you’ve said.. Three times.”
“I just think you were looking for affection.”
“From Bobby?”
“And you were just overwhelmed, what with the baseball player and Thor coming back and he was the safe bet. I think you knew nothing would happen and that’s why you invited him. You manifested your fears into fake feelings for him because you knew deep down it would never go anywhere.”
PJ looks at him like he has lost his mind and leans forward to touch his forehead. “Are you feeling alright?” She asks, and then adds sharply, “Have you been watching Dr. Phil again?”
“THAT WAS ONE TIME, PJ! And you swore you’d never bring it up again!”
She laughs and steals another part of his bagel. “Calm down. You’re secret’s safe. Besides,” she tosses the piece of food into her mouth. “I know.”
“What?”
“I worked all this out last night when I was drunk. Without Stephanie, by the way, which is a feat in and of it’s own.”
Brendan does that thing where he throws his arms wide and looks like he’s about to pop a vein. “Then why did you bring it up?!”
PJ shrugs. “Why do I do half the things I do? I don’t know, Brend, I was drunk. Why does it matter?”
Again with the avoiding of eye contact. “It doesn’t.”
“Good. Then we can drop it.”
“Fine.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t care,” he adds again after a second, and PJ finds it odd that he still isn’t looking at her. “I so do not care.”
“Just stop talking,” she says, holding up a hand. “My head hurts.”
He looks at her then, that same look from earlier and it makes something settle deep in her belly – apprehension, fear maybe, but she ignores it. A memory floods her mind in pieces, Brendan standing above her talking about keys and leaving and she wonders, briefly, if that’s what he’s upset about – about wanting to give Bobby a chance and running away from the mere possibility of the two of them.
They never really talked about that night and to be quite honest, it’s just one of those things she chooses to forget because it’s awkward and weird, and makes this intense need to admit that things, feelings have manifested within her (why he kissed her, why she kissed him back). When she snaps herself out of her thoughts, he’s still looking at her and PJ can’t help but look away.
He unnerves her.
Even though there feels like there’s something there below the surface, something threatening to boil over and disrupt the balance she has worked so hard to maintain within her life, it all boils down to the fact that this is her, and this is Brendan and that is just not a road she wants (is ready) to travel down.
Not able to stand the silence that had settled around them anymore, PJ reaches forward and steals what is left of his bagel.
“Sure, go ahead, it’s not like a wanted to eat that or anything.”
PJ ignores him. “Wanna go grab something to eat? I’m starving.”
Brendan smiles broadly in her direction. “As long as you’re paying.”
Summary: Maybe the problem isn’t really Bobby. Maybe it’s her. PJ's not jealous. She doesn't do jealous. She's just adjusting, that's all.
Rating: pg-13
Author's Notes: 2,851 words. Post 2x02. Written for shirasade over at
yuletide who wanted My Boys fic dealing with the PJ/Bobby/Brendan dynamic. First fic in this fandom. Con-crit is both appreciated and encouraged. All mistakes are mine. These characters, however, are not. Enjoy. “You’re staring.”
“I am so not.”
“You really are.”
“It’s just,” PJ pauses and takes another swig of her beer. “She’s touching his chest. Every five seconds she’s touching his chest. I mean, is that honestly truly necessary? Is this some kind of new dating ritual I should know about?”
Another swig of beer, another glance out of the corner of her eye and Stephanie is still staring. “What?” she asks defensively and Stephanie does this mock surrender thing where she holds up her hands and backs away. PJ feels sorry for half a second and then glances back towards the bar where Bobby was doing a very good job of demonstrating the art of leaning and loses the ability to care.
“He’s leaning now. I swear, do they have to do this in public? Is it really all that necessary to subject Crowley’s loyal patrons to this kind of disgusting display?”
“You said you were over him.”
“Stephanie,” she draws out the name, fingers the beer bottle in-between her fingers. “I am over him. I’m just….”
“Jealous? Enraged?” Stephanie supplies. “Wishing you’d sexed him up in Rome like you had originally planned?”
“I am not jealous.”
“Ha. That’s real convincing with that vein popping out of your forehead and everything.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
Bobby touches Elsa’s shoulder and smiles broadly. PJ orders another drink.
+
Alright, so she cares. Big deal, okay? She’s allowed. And she isn’t jealous, not even a little, tiny bit – no matter what Stephanie said. She was just affected. It’s just an adjustment that’s all. Going from zero to one eighty in the span of a day, it takes some getting used to. Two weeks ago she was planning to have a relationship with the guy (completely unbeknownst to him, of course) and now he’s planning on having a relationship with somebody else. These sorts of things can affect people.
It affects her.
Stephanie leaves and PJ stays, orders another drink and keeps on brooding. She strategically situates herself at the table so her back is to the bar, and plays Candy-Land with Mike and Brando to kill the time. Only she’s feeling a bit in the mood and decides to up the stakes a little bit. A shot for every time someone passes you, two shots for every time you get banned to the chocolate forest or whatever, waterfall every time you lose a round.
Every time she takes a look over at Bobby and Elsa (and seriously, what the hell kind of name was that anyway?) Every time she glances towards Kenny who’s getting more action tonight than she’s gotten all year, she takes another shot and follows it with a swig of beer just because.
The brooding comes and goes in spurts, usually ends after a shot, begins again when she appraises Elsa out of the corner of her eye and wonders why her hair can’t be that pretty, why her pants don’t fit her that right. It’s not so much that she’s a self conscious person, mind you, because she’s not, PJ just wonders what she could do, what she could change about herself to make somebody give her just a miniscule amount of the attention Bobby is giving her.
And maybe that’s where the problem truly lies, she starts to think as Brendan gets sent back to square one and Mike inches that much closer to winning. Maybe the problem isn’t really Bobby. Maybe it’s her. It’s loneliness. Maybe she wasn’t jealous of not having Bobby, maybe it was just her being jealous of not having anybody.
Maybe she didn’t really liked Bobby, she just liked the idea of Bobby.
PJ wishes Stephanie was there to explain it to her, because that’s what she usually did at time like these – explained to PJ the feelings that PJ didn’t even know she was having. She thinks about calling her for a second, asking her to come back, but Mike’s grumbling distracts her.
“It’s just not fair,” Mike grumbles and PJ looks up to see him starring at Kenny. “This is like my own personal hell.”
“I know,” PJ says and she throws her arms open and Brendan’s eyes go wide and he reaches out to keep her beer from falling over. “Like what the hell do we have to do, right?”
“Exactly,” Mike exclaims and they high five each other, and high five Brendan, too.
Bobby’s at the table a second later, picking up his jacket.
“I’m going to head out,” he says and looks back over his shoulder to where Elsa is standing awkwardly. PJ thinks she’s too weird for Bobby. “We’re going to head out,” he corrects and Mike and Brendan offer high fives and congratulatory remarks.
PJ rolls her eyes. “You sure you wanna do that? I mean you only just met her.” she asks before she can stop herself.
“Yeah,” he draws out the word like he’s actually considering it and smiles in that way she hates. “I’m sure. She is pretty great.”
“She’s something all right.”
Bobby gives her a funny look and PJ raises her beer to him in mock salute. When he leaves, she watches him a little longer than is necessary.
“Anyone want more shots?”
+
“You are so drunk.”
“No I’m not,” PJ says, pulling away from Brendan as they enter the apartment. She stumbles a little bit and ends up having the hold on to the door frame for support. “Okay,” she breathes, and the room starts to tilt. “Maybe just a little.”
Brendan, ever faithful Brendan, wraps an arm around her waist and helps her move forward. “What’s gotten into you?” he asks, his voice next to her ear and she shivers and moves closer into him out of habit.
She giggles. “I’m drunk, couldn’t you tell?”
“Yeah,” he laughs. “You’re breath reeks. Chew some gum, will ya?”
Somewhere in the middle of the living room, her feet stop listening to her brain and she stops walking all together. Her head starts to spin and she tries to remember the last time she was this drunk. Freshman year of college maybe? After Thor left the first time? She can’t really remember. She grew up with Andy and could drink any boy under the table by her sophomore year of college, and she knows how to handle her liquor, which is why this is kind of surprising. Although she figures those last four shots were four too many. You know what they say about hindsight, though.
“PJ you’re gonna have to help me here,” Brendan grumbles and her stomach lurches up, somewhere near her throat.
“Brend –“
“Oh, Jesus, you aren’t going to puke are you?”
“Maybe?”
“Ugh,” he says and somehow manages to lift her up and into his arms – if she wasn’t so drunk she’d make some teasing comment about knights and armor, but her head isn’t functioning properly. “Just hold it until we’re in your room okay? That way it’s all on you.”
“I slept with Bobby,” she just sort of says it, the words spilling out of her mouth in some form of verbal diarrhea and Brendan stops short, stumbling slightly and manages to drop her flat on her ass in the process.
“Ow, Brend, seriously, what the hell?”
“Sorry,” he says, holding out a hand to help her up. He pulls it away as soon as she reaches for it, though. “Sorry,” he repeats, and even in her drunken haze she realizes that he doesn’t sound like he actually means it. “While you were in Rome?”
“What?” she asks. “God, Brendan, I think you broke my ass,” she breathes, rubbing her butt. He stands next to her with his arms on his hips and it takes a second for her to remember that he had asked her a question. “Oh, no. Last year?”
“And I’m just now finding out about it?”
PJ chews the inside of her cheek and tries to decide which bothers her more – the pain in her ass or the fact that she feels like she’s going to puke any second.
“It was a secret?”
“Was that what tonight was about? The drinking and the looks?”
“Brando,” she whines, trying to get up but falling back down again. He doesn’t move to help her. “Why are we talking about this?”
“You brought it up.”
“Come on,” she says, drawing out the word for as long as she can manage. Her head hurts something fierce and she forces her eyes shut tight to stop the room from spinning.
“I can’t believe this.”
“Believe what? People sleep together, shit happens –“
Brendan sighs and shakes his head. “You left. You left to go get your keys and you just… You…”
“What IS wrong with you? What are you talking about?” She peers at him closely, or as close as she can mange in her state. “Are you drunk?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“I’m drunk!”
“Exactly my point! PJ, I haven’t seen you drunk since our freshman year of college. You can’t even stand!”
“If you’d help me,” she mutters, using all the strength she has to push herself up onto her elbows. “I’d stand just fine.”
“Peej,” he whines and she just falls backwards on the floor with a sound thump. “Fine,” he sighs, and reaches down to help her up. “Come on.”
PJ sits up slowly. “Thank you,” she says, letting out a long whoosh of air, exasperated.
Brendan helps her, supporting her with an arm around her waist as they made their way towards her bedroom. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this conversation, though.”
“Seriously, it doesn’t even matter that much,” she tells him, giggling as she kicks off her shoes and falls, rather ungracefully, face down on her bed.
The last thing she remembers before being surrounded by total blackness was the sound of his mirthless snicker.
+
Morning comes full of harsh sunlight and a drum pound pound pounding in her head. There’s banging in the kitchen and PJ winces when she opens her eyes to glance at the clock.
12:45. Jesus.
The night before comes back in random spurts – Crowley’s, Bobby and Elsa, Brendan and something about keys. PJ groans inwardly and wishes she’d invested in more durable curtains, the black kind that blocks out all forms of light.
It takes her five minutes to fully open her eyes and another seven to actually conjure up the energy to get up. When she finally makes it out of her room around one, Brendan looks smug as she makes it into the kitchen.
He makes a show out of checking a watch he doesn’t have. “I was just getting ready to go see if you were still alive.”
PJ rolls her eyes as she slides into a seat across from him. “Bite me.”
“Did you puke?”
“Have you ever known me to puke?”
“Once.”
“That doesn’t count.”
Brendan rolls his eyes and stands and walks over to the coffee maker. “I held your hair back for an hour. It counts.”
“That wasn’t because I was drunk. That was because it was some stupid pink frilly fruity concoction –“
He grins and pushes the freshly poured cup of coffee towards her. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Peej.”
She smiles in return, half bitterly, half thankful and he passes her the sports section of the paper as soon as he finished it. The silence is easy, comfortable, them and she’s thankful for Brendan in ways he’ll never know.
“So you and Bobby, huh?”
Then there’s that.
PJ groans inwardly and hides behind the paper. “Stop.”
“You can’t just lay that on me and expect me to forget it.”
“I was drunk.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, snatching the paper out of her hand. “Talk.”
PJ takes a long sip of her coffee and shrugs her shoulders. “We slept together. Once. That’s all.”
“And now you’re jealous?”
“PSH. Please,” she does her fake laugh thing and it’s no surprise that he sees right through it. “I’m not jealous. I don’t get jealous.”
Brendan raises a skeptical eyebrow. “I had to carry you, literally carry you into bed last night. You’re going to sit there and tell me that it had nothing to do with Bobby and his newfound love?”
PJ avoids eye contact and fidgets with the edge of the paper. She’s known Brendan for longer than she can count on her fingers and it’s no easier to lie to him than it is to lie to herself. “It’s just… an adjustment. He just met her and now they’re dating? I don’t know, Brando, it’s just… weird.”
Another silence and Brendan seems occupied in processing.. PJ thinks about making a move to get up, to leave before this conversation ventures somewhere she’s not comfortable with ( like into territory including thoughts and feelings because she’s PJ and she’d just rather not, thanks) but he speaks up before she gets the chance.
“Is that why you invited him to Rome?”
“No?”
“No?”
“Maybe.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
PJ flicks a crumb across the table at him. “Why does it matter?”
Now it’s Brendan’s turn to avoid eye contact. “It doesn’t.”
“Good. Then we don’t have to talk about it anymore.”
He opens his mouth to say something before closing it again. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
Silence again and PJ reaches forward to steal a piece of his bagel. She catches Brendan looking at her again, eyebrow raised and it unnerves her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re acting weird.”
Another silence, another look and PJ groans.
“It’s just… Okay. I mean….”
“Spit it out.”
“I think you’re just lonely.”
“Lonely?”
“Yeah,” Brendan clears his throat, all nervous like and she resists the urge to laugh. “I mean, come on, it’s been a while –“
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. It has not been a while –“
“Well, I mean, it’s Bobby. Bobby. You can’t like him… It’s Bobby!”
“So you’ve said.. Three times.”
“I just think you were looking for affection.”
“From Bobby?”
“And you were just overwhelmed, what with the baseball player and Thor coming back and he was the safe bet. I think you knew nothing would happen and that’s why you invited him. You manifested your fears into fake feelings for him because you knew deep down it would never go anywhere.”
PJ looks at him like he has lost his mind and leans forward to touch his forehead. “Are you feeling alright?” She asks, and then adds sharply, “Have you been watching Dr. Phil again?”
“THAT WAS ONE TIME, PJ! And you swore you’d never bring it up again!”
She laughs and steals another part of his bagel. “Calm down. You’re secret’s safe. Besides,” she tosses the piece of food into her mouth. “I know.”
“What?”
“I worked all this out last night when I was drunk. Without Stephanie, by the way, which is a feat in and of it’s own.”
Brendan does that thing where he throws his arms wide and looks like he’s about to pop a vein. “Then why did you bring it up?!”
PJ shrugs. “Why do I do half the things I do? I don’t know, Brend, I was drunk. Why does it matter?”
Again with the avoiding of eye contact. “It doesn’t.”
“Good. Then we can drop it.”
“Fine.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t care,” he adds again after a second, and PJ finds it odd that he still isn’t looking at her. “I so do not care.”
“Just stop talking,” she says, holding up a hand. “My head hurts.”
He looks at her then, that same look from earlier and it makes something settle deep in her belly – apprehension, fear maybe, but she ignores it. A memory floods her mind in pieces, Brendan standing above her talking about keys and leaving and she wonders, briefly, if that’s what he’s upset about – about wanting to give Bobby a chance and running away from the mere possibility of the two of them.
They never really talked about that night and to be quite honest, it’s just one of those things she chooses to forget because it’s awkward and weird, and makes this intense need to admit that things, feelings have manifested within her (why he kissed her, why she kissed him back). When she snaps herself out of her thoughts, he’s still looking at her and PJ can’t help but look away.
He unnerves her.
Even though there feels like there’s something there below the surface, something threatening to boil over and disrupt the balance she has worked so hard to maintain within her life, it all boils down to the fact that this is her, and this is Brendan and that is just not a road she wants (is ready) to travel down.
Not able to stand the silence that had settled around them anymore, PJ reaches forward and steals what is left of his bagel.
“Sure, go ahead, it’s not like a wanted to eat that or anything.”
PJ ignores him. “Wanna go grab something to eat? I’m starving.”
Brendan smiles broadly in her direction. “As long as you’re paying.”
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(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-24 09:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-25 04:53 am (UTC)Anyway than you for reading and leaving kind words. I want to write more fic -- we'll just have to see what direction the show takes us in. I'm still not sure they think PJ/Brendan is endgame (even though I do, LOL)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-25 03:01 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-25 04:55 am (UTC)Thank you for reading! I'm glad you enjoyed it.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-23 11:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-08-11 02:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-05-13 04:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-05-15 03:37 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading! I'm glad you liked this.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-22 10:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-10-11 08:15 am (UTC)I've been on a self-imposed LJ hiatus while I move but now that I'm settled I cannot wait to go and read all the D/H fic you've posted while I've been gone. And if you ever want to return to PJ/Brendan, I will give you a million unicorns. Thanks.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-10-13 12:29 am (UTC)And I had wondered where you had ran off too! Glad everything is settled and you're back to play in our little corner of fandom. Harvey/Donna love seems to be dwindling a little bit. But I'll still writing, so at least there is that.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-10-13 12:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-10-13 12:31 am (UTC)