waking up slow

oh all my nights taste like gold, when I'm with you it's like everything glows rebecca walsh. 31. boston native. brennan's wife. laura and liam's mom.

[rebeccawxlsh]

7th May 2021 → @beccawalsh posted an update

[rebeccawxlsh]

b. walsh​:

“I know you like baseball. But this is baseball.” Brennan chastised with a deliberate smugness, palm patting the top of her head as they settled in with food in-hand. “We won the 2004 World Series because of this movie” Brennan declared with a mouth half full of food. “Well,” He finally swallowed before continuing. “Sabermetrics. That’s what the A’s are doing in this movie. And then Henry finally got smart enough to implement it with the Sox. Broke the curse of the Bambino.” There were few things Brennan genuinely geeked out about, but if a conversation about the Red Sox was taking place, it was a given that Brennan knew all the players, their stats, and an entire run down of the major games minute by minute. He’d been 16 when the Red Sox had gone to the World Series and won for the first time since 1918, and how loudly he and his father had carried on when they’d won. Charles was even euphoric enough to give Brennan his first beer (which wouldn’t happen again until he was well past the legal age). 

“I’m sure it was pretty crazy to be in the city when Boston took home the title. Huh?” Brennan glanced from the television screen to Rebecca, conscious he’d been rambling and felt immediately insecure at the prospect, subtle blush and smile before he looked back to the screen. “I’ve been to more Sox games with you than my Dad at this point. He’d always drag us up to Baltimore, D.C., even Philly if we could see the Sox playing.” They were some of Brennan’s fondest memories, driving hours just to catch the Red Sox in action from nosebleeds, soda and hot dogs keeping them company while they cheered on their team. “Hope this kid likes baseball.” Brennan mumbled with a faint smile.

The eye roll that Brennan received as he began his regular spiel was a good natured one, these were words she’d heard a million times before, after all Brennan knew his stuff. She might have absorbed baseball into her DNA like any good Bostonite, but he’d studied the sport with such precision from such a young age that it was in his veins just as much -- more even. “Okay okay we get it you nerd-” she cut over him when he eventually paused for breath, her foot jabbing him lightly in the side. “You like Baseball” she paused momentarily as she reached for another slice of pizza, loading up her plate with surprising speed. “But I suppose, I can’t pass up an opportunity to lust after Brad Pitt”. That would be a crime in itself at the best of times, and that way they would both be happy, Brennan could watch his movie, and Rebecca could watch him, and feel the soft rise and fall of Bruno’s rib cage against her hand. It would only be for a brief moment, a few hours of respite, but it would be enough. 

“Yeah it was” Rebecca agreed, trying to cast her mind back. It felt so long ago, the entire city bursting with life, everyone on the streets celebrating. The noise had been thunderous and overwhelming, and for a few days there had been so much joy on every street. It had invariably passed, good times always did, but it had been a much needed win for the city as well as for the team. “Well maybe he can tear himself away from the priesthood one day and join us at the next one”. It was unlikely, they both knew that. Frankly what was going on with Charles was truly beyond her. Even as she could understand that he had lost his world, that the ground had shifted underneath him so significantly, she couldn’t understand how that same man who had taken Brennan to every baseball game there was, could suddenly turn his back on both his sons. But she didn’t say any of that aloud. She never would. “Well it’s not going to have much of a choice really is it?” she pointed out with a teasing wink before she looked down at her still pancake flat stomach, a finger trailing nervously across her torso. “I hope you’re listening in there, and taking notes”. It felt entirely ridiculous to be talking to someone you couldn’t see, even if you instinctively felt its presence. “And just waning you, if you don’t like baseball your dad’s definitely going to disown you” she added, before glancing back up and over at Brennan with a hesitant smile

[rebeccawxlsh]

b. walsh​:

In the early days of their relationship, money had been a funny thing for Brennan Walsh. It’d once been tied so tightly to his pride he’d not want to come off as someone who couldn’t provide for Rebecca the comfort and taste she’d been acquainted with before Brennan had weaseled his way into her heart. He’d killed himself to have the sort of money he thought it would take to treat her to dates he thought she’d expected. Only with time and a bit of humility did he realize he’d not given Rebecca the benefit of the doubt to be as down to earth as she truly was. He wasn’t one of those men who’d ever expected his partner to adhere to any gender role, never too proud to let her pay, knowing that once they graduated he’d start being able to provide in equal measure. Certainly in the early days he’d been rather lavish, only learning to reign it in when Rebecca had gently suggested they form a budget. It was funny to him that a sign of growing up, of success, was carrying in this mountain of food as his wife laughed over the sheer volume he’d acquired while ordering on an empty stomach. “This is just the appetizer” Brennan dared to challenge. While he might not finish all of it, he was certain of the fact that by the time they were groaning over being too full, he’d have put an impressive dent in the feast before them. 

“I get control of the remote?” Brennan blinked in surprise, mostly because, well, he was horribly indecisive. Back when movie night had meant a trip to Blockbuster, that’d been Rebecca’s end of the bargain. Brennan would have wasted half the night just trying to pick something before he was showing back up with five movies and more confused than when he’d started. “I guess…” He felt the pressure to make a decision rise in his chest, distorted by hunger and knowing the longer he delayed, the longer it would take to commence with eating, which Rebecca was already happily taking advantage of. Brennan wasn’t much for television or movies, he’d sooner listen along to a podcast while working, but he held true to a few classics he could watch over and over. But, the choice was easily concluded with Moneyball. Baseball was an easy motivator, and he happily pressed play before shifting to dig into a slice himself. He’d managed to stay away from Romance or Dramas that would have made the air in the room even more complicated than it already was otherwise. “It’s got a little bit of everything for each of us. Baseball for me, Brad Pitt for you.” Brennan declared happily.

Of the two of the them, Brennan had always had the more impressive appetite, able to eat a family’s worth of meals with relative ease whilst Rebecca picked at her plate when she got even half way to full. Unlike some of her college friends, Rebecca had never thought of herself as having an unhealthy relationship with food. She’d never feared it, or withheld it, but she also had enough of an awareness to acknowledge that in a house where both of her parents had regularly made comments about her needing to stay slim and pretty to have even a chance of finding someone decent, and a mother who lived on a stream of diet pills and actual pills, that she’d internalised some of those unhealthy attitudes. So as she stared at the frankly, obscene amount of food in front of them she found herself more than a little surprised that it didn’t seem quite so large and opposing. But then of course, she wasn’t just eating for herself was she? And as she considered that, and how she was going to gain weight regardless of how much she ate, it became considerably easier to pile her plate high before she rested it on crossed knees, watching as Brennan scanned through the channels.

True when it came to deciding films and tv shows to watch, it was usually Rebecca that was in control of the remote, but it wasn’t exactly a hardship to watch a daft movie about sport with a handsome lead in it. And more importantly, it wasn’t something that was likely to turn the waterworks up even higher than usual ( it was hardly rare for Rebecca to cry, but she’d cried over an advert about jello the previous evening ). “Hey, I like baseball too” she pointed out. After all, hadn’t it just been Brennan who had been turning her cheeks pink at his mention of her wooly red hat, emblazoned with the Sox’s logo? And so she settled down on the sofa, one hand petting Bruno’s head softly whilst she used the other to direct the pizza into her own mouth, all ooey and gooey and the sort of thing which was designed to clog up arteries with it’s goodness. ...And Brad Pitt” she conceded a second later, a strand of mozzarella hanging from the corner of her lip which she swiped away, eyes trained on the screen as the title cards began to roll.

[rebeccawxlsh]

b. walsh​:

“I’m not making any decisions” Brennan replied softly, a slight defensive edge to his tone. He’d been fooled the once when she’d agreed to try and make a home in Saint Vincents with him. Brennan wasn’t exactly checking out Zillow listings in Newton just because he liked the idea. Maybe they’d never be on the same page. Rebecca clearly craved comfort, Boston, for whatever reason, held her with a magnetic pulse. He loved the city, certainly, enough to know that if Noemi wasn’t willing to come with him, their love wouldn’t last. And now he was in an opposing predicament — but this time there was a baby involved. Of course Brennan knew he wanted to be with Rebecca, with or without a baby involved his love for her was unmatched. Still, he struggled in wondering if it was the same for her, if their marriage was as take it or leave it as she’d been treating it recently. Brennan wasn’t exactly innocent, either, but at least he’d tried to fight for it.

But Brennan was pulled from these intrusive thoughts as the door buzzed, eyes trailing Rebecca as she plucked herself from the sofa and made her way towards the kitchen. “Sure, so I can pay the tip” Brennan joked with a roll of his eyes, making his way for her front door as he shook off the residual doubts that typically only presented themselves when there was 500 miles between them. Reaching for his wallet, Brennan would exchange a few singles for the arms-full of food, having to shut the door with his foot in order to keep everything balanced. He briefly considered that he’d ordered too much and Rebecca had been right, but at some point, it’d all get eaten. “The upside to this rendition of pizza and movies is that there wouldn’t be some belligerently drunk undergrad beating down the door to tell me someone’s been sick in the hallway.” Brennan could only huff out a laugh at the nagging memories. There were plenty of aspects of his life he could resent, but he always chose to have good humor instead. It was how he kept himself afloat, trying not to resent those moments of struggle. Setting everything down on the coffee table, there was only really space left for their plates as he met Rebecca back on the sofa. 

“There’s a $20 in my purse” she told him, focussed on pulling out plates as she peered into the cupboard. Of course, she already knew that Brennan would have been getting the money out himself, and in a way the money he had was hers. They might not ever have jumped to a joint account for anything other than mortgage payments, but that didn’t mean they didn’t take a ‘whats yours is mine’ attitude. Brennan had been the more generous of the two of late, but back when things hadn’t been quite so unsettled, Rebecca had paid for more of her fair share of meals and holidays, tickets to sports game, petrol for the car. She never begrudged a cent of it. But perhaps now that things were so strange she should have looked upon it as different. But then she shut the cupboard, plates in hand and one look at the mountain of food that Brennan was struggling under was enough to make her forget those concern, and instead illicit a loud burst of laughter. “Are you planning on feeding the 500 tonight as well?” she teased, settling the plates down on the coffee table as Brennan did the same thing. 

Of course, she knew well enough that all of the food would eventually be eaten. They didn’t waste food, even if it meant eating cold pizza for breakfast, lunch and dinner. If Rebecca had to foist boxes of leftovers for Brennan to smuggle back to his hotel room, then she would do it. Still, the thought of all the pizza, plus the excessive cookie cake seemed...well excessive. And yet that didn’t stop her from sinking down into the sofa, nudging the pizza lids open with her elbow as she passed a plate to Brennan, along with the remote. He could take his pick of the many channels she was subscribed to -- after all, she had to do something to pass the evenings. “You pick what to watch” Rebecca said to him, settling into the task at hand of tearing up pizza and plopping it down on her plate before she curled up on the sofa next to her husband. “whilst I get to the important task of eating this magnificent feast”. 

[rebeccawxlsh]

b. walsh​:

“Newton’s far from being another world, when you think about it.” After all, Rebecca wouldn’t be quite so starved from the familiar when they’d only be moving into Boston’s backyard, rather than the far reaches of Maryland’s eastern shores. So many friends had migrated to the suburbs to raise their children, enough so that plans for drinks and nights out with them meant carefully curated plans with babysitters, and, often enough, those plans ending up cancelled. “But you know I’d never expect you to be that kind of woman.” Brennan frowned somewhat, head shaking ever so slightly. “Newton isn’t Stepford, Bex. It’s just a little slower pace, more space to grow. Could be nice.” It wasn’t as if Brennan was married to the idea in any way — but he’d grown up outside of the city. While he loved Boston, the city practically coursed through his veins at that point, he did know that there were plenty of perks to having been raised the way he was. Christine had been that wife and mother, but, Brennan wasn’t Charles. It’d been a sore spot that Christine had had to work for the family to support themselves efficiently, but for Brennan, Rebecca’s career was a sense of pride. He never needed to come home to a home-cooked meal or Rebecca elbow deep in a project for the PTA to know she was a wonderful wife and mother.

“Let’s just make a promise right now to never buy a van.” He cracked a small grin, pinky thrust forward to seal the deal in the most sacred way possible. “It was just a thought, you know. I’m not lobbying you” Brennan gave another one of his noncommittal shrugs. He wasn’t about to pull out a powerpoint and explain the pros and cons of moving to the suburbs. He supposed, inevitably, people realized it was either necessary or not. They’d pass that crossroads naturally. “None of this is happening the way we thought it would. So I think you’re right. We don’t have to treat everything the same as we might’ve. Not having every detail sorted out… Probably isn’t the worst thing right now.” Brennan would shift on the sofa, soft look reflected his wife’s way before he’d lean in for a tender peck on the lips. “Definitely don’t want to make any enormous life decisions on an empty stomach, right?”

Well of course Brennan wouldn’t have expected it from her, but moving somewhere like that, somewhere which could have been another backlot of Desperate Housewives, and inevitably not being up to snuff felt like it was a failure. She was never going to be that domestic housewife, the mother that baked cupcakes and ran the kids to soccer on a Saturday...or at least, she’d never thought she would. Of course, now the situation was entirely different, and she already knew that if her child asked to go to Timbuktu she would have found a way, but the point still stood. “I know you’re right...” because of course he was, and her protests were lurid and the stuff of her own personal nightmares, but still there was that reluctance. It was the same reluctance that had reared its head back in Saint Vincent’s, albeit in a much more quieter, far less threatening way. And she was stubborn. Of course, her stubborn nature manifested in an entirely different way to Brennan, much quieter, but no less potent when pushed. So, the but in her voice was obvious even if she didn’t say it aloud. “Lets just...wait a bit before we make any drastic decisions”. After all, only a few months ago they’d been stood on the river bank, ice cream in hand discussing about moving permanently to Saint Vincent’s. And how things had changed. 

“Bren-”, the eyes were slightly narrowed again, though not with any malice. Brennan couldn’t help himself, he might not have said he was lobbying, but his enthusiasm and vigour was lobbying in any other name. It just happened that Rebecca had learnt pretty quickly that most of the time, he couldn’t help himself. He just had that natural air and charisma that made it impossible to not listen and be persuaded by him. And then, just as the air threatened to turn and become too serious and too grownup there was a break and they both seemed to let out a breath. “Right. All we have to think about are movies and pizza” she agreed with a happy nod, settling back against him, a hand reaching out for the remote just as the door buzzed. “Perfect timing” Rebecca commented, hopping up from the sofa before she headed over to the small kitchen. “You get the pizza, I’ll get the plates” she ordered, opening cupboards to grab plates and condiments.

[rebeccawxlsh]

b. walsh​:

“If I could, you know I would.” Brennan replied with an easy-going grin, no retort that Rebecca threw his way could shake him when it came to the idea of a large family. He knew if his parents really could have afforded it then Brennan might have had a horde of siblings, but they’d chosen to give the very best life they could to one child, and to Bowie, but that was quite a ways down the road in his life. “You should know by now I’m never not going to flirt with you” Brennan murmured with a raised brow, all angelic with his doe eyes and choir boy aesthetic. As much as Rebecca admonished him, Brennan didn’t know how to be any other way. Slightly embarrassing, always affectionate. Even when he felt truly sunken into the swings and throws of depression, there was a part of him that could always light up just by touching Rebecca, hearing her voice, chatting with her about nothing in particular. And in days like this, where he felt on top of his life and the many struggles thrown their way, Brennan could see through the fog, and know how terribly in love he was. 

“I don’t know” Brennan echoed with an easy shrug of his shoulders. “Our friends have done it. They’ve managed to not become boring or insufferable for it.” He’d never seen them raising a child in their condo, not in the long-term, anyway. He’d always just assumed at some point Rebecca would come home and say they needed more room, and Brennan would make it happen. It was how they’d ended up in the condo in the first place — the need for more space, something beyond the mangy hovel that Brennan could barely afford right after law school. Something that said they’d not married too young and too poor. And with Jack’s financial assistance, they’d learned to enjoy living slightly beyond their means. “It’s something we could afford on our own, at least. No more mortgage in your father’s name.” Brennan had gotten a pretty lump sum from his mother’s life insurance, and with the potential revenue from selling the hardware store and their parent’s home (which was soon to come with Bowie’s patent restlessness), they’d have more financial independence than they’d ever had. Because, in reality, so long as Jack had some semblance of control over their financial futures beyond Brennan’s own paycheck, there would be some level of control with this baby. That, Brennan simply wouldn’t allow. “And Newton at least is… what? A twenty minute from where we’re sitting right now? It’s not exactly another world.” Brennan shrugged once again. “It’s not exactly something we have to figure out any time soon. I just thought it’d be something you wanted too, maybe. But we can find the space in Boston.”

Brennan raised a good point. They had both watched each of their friends, one by one, meet their respective partners and couple up. Sometimes there was a wedding, sometimes not, but always there seemed to be a baby. It was something that Rebecca had simply learned to accept, eyes going glassy as she mustered up enthusiasm and joy for the mocktails and the baby naming games...and then came the inevitable message over text, or post on Instagram: we’re moving. She never begrudged her friends for making the decision to cross the river, to settle into the house with the big bay windows and a family friendly garden, to throw away the evenings spent in cocktail bars and the weekends spent on girly spa days but she’d never exactly saw herself following that path. Partially because it seemed that they were just destined to be the childless couple, with great jobs and a social life all their friends, but also because she thought she would go mad in suburbia. And, if the trip to Saint Vincent’s had done anything it had certainly proved her theory right. 

Or perhaps it had not. In Saint Vincent’s she’d felt alone, more alone than she’d felt since she was a child, and at least in Newton she would have friends just a few streets away. Friends with children who played soccer and who had sleepovers. When she considered it like that, maybe it didn’t seem quite so bad. And the idea of having a house that didn’t have her fathers finger prints all over it was more than tempting. “I don’t know...” Rebecca sighed, chewing at the edge of her lips thoughtfully. “I mean, those suburban mom’s in their people carriers who host pot lucks and have margarita nights every night are terrifying”. And that truly felt like a role she’d never be able to fill. She was skilled at being the smiling wife and the great hostess of course, but moving to suburbia would be like entering the big leagues of Stepford smilers, even if it was only twenty minutes from where they were sat now. “No, I just-it’s not that I don’t want it”. Another pause, as again she found herself trying to find the right words. “It had just never occurred to me that we’d need to. I mean, maybe at the beginning but then...I don’t know. It guess I stopped thinking of it as an option”

[rebeccawxlsh]

b. walsh​:

Brennan snorted, head shaking back and forth. “Football team? I don’t think any human being alive has the pelvic floor to birth an offensive and defensive line. I’d settle for a basketball team. Five’s a pretty solid number.” Brennan was at his root, of course, a Catholic. Born to get a good job, to go to mass, and to raise good Catholic babies — preferably a horde of them. Rebecca’s playful jab would garner a groan of pain from Brennan’s lips as his hand clutched dramatically over his heart. “And here I thought I was a perfectly well-behaved and obedient husband. Shame on me.” It wasn’t long after the theatrics faded that his palm would fall back to her stomach, quite comfortable pretending there was some infinitesimally small but still noticeable bump that signified their baby. Brennan liked to think that event it wasn’t exactly how he planned it, this would be the kind of husband he’d be while Rebecca was pregnant. Bringing her takeout and too much ice cream and lounging around in sweatpants while he held onto her midsection, chatting away at the fetus who couldn’t yet but would one day soon learn to recognize Brennan’s voice among all of the background noise. “I would never insult the hat. I quite like that dingy red thing. Especially when it’s the only thing you’re wearing.” 

Even if Brennan liked to pretend he’d be weak over any child of his (which in some respects would always be true), the only way to be a father than he knew of he’d learned from watching Charles. While he could have done with a few more hugs, a smidge more tenderness, he’d come to respect and admire his father for the man he’d been helping to raise Brennan. “Of course I’ll be the bad cop. I promised you I’d do the disciplining, remember? You can just reap the benefits of never having to go above a gentle scolding.” Brennan cracked a toothy grin, head shaking at the thought of Rebecca ever having to truly discipline one of their children. He knew it was a pipe dream to think they’d land a child just like him, but then again, there’d been bundles of trauma that came with having been adopted that weighed Brennan down considerably. Maybe he might have had a more carefree and happier childhood if he’d never had to worry about being given up again. “You don’t want a big brick house in Newton or Needham?” Brennan had always accepted that they’d inevitably outgrow what Boston had to offer (and what they could afford, really), and a suburb just on the border of the capital would be the idyllic backdrop of their family life. Commuting wasn’t the end of the world, not when there was so much to come home to at the end of the day. But he supposed that was a dream for a different life, the one he’d created inside of his head while he ignored present realities.

“Five?”. The look that Rebecca fixed Brennan with was enough to turn him to stone, icy and cold as she narrowed her eyes at him. Of course, she knew her husband was joking, but even the idea of pushing out one small baby seemed too much to comprehend let alone adding further children into the mix. Though, she supposed after a certain point the pain would have to decrease...that was just logical surely? “Well I’ll tell you what, I’ll get to making sure this one comes out fully formed and you can do the rest yes?”. A fair division of labour, she could do all of the things that the husband was traditionally supposed to do, the feet rubbing and the ice cream rubs and he could do the difficult job. But of course -- science had to work against her. As it had always, and it seemed always would, work against women. Still her glare quickly melted and morphed instead to a look of embarrassment, cheeks flushing bright red as she landed a light slap against his hand. Despite the fact that they ( and their dog ) were the only people in the room, Rebecca still felt a sense of embarrassment as Brennan spoke about the red hat...and the various antics that had taken place with the hat. “Brennan, stop it” she chided, voice pitching up slightly as she attempted to hide her flushed cheeks .

“Fifty-fifty”. She’d never expect Brennan to totally take on bad cop. Truly neither of them would be particularly suited to the role, but it would be a fair division. She’d heard so many stories from her friends and seen how their relationships had been impacted by the relationship they’d had with their parents, and whilst to a degree she knew that she and Brennan would invariably mess the baby up in some way ( and, in the past few weeks she’d stopped looking on that prospect as less of a catastrophe ), she didn’t want either of them to take centre stage in a therapists office in twenty years time. “I don’t know” she admitted with a shrug, leaning back against Brennan’s chest as she thought about. “I suppose, I’d just always thought I’d live in the city”. It was the place she had grown up after all, she’d always known these particular streets, and the call of the suburbs had never quite rung loud enough. But when she thought about their condo, with all of its sharp edges and expensive furnishings...well it was hardly child friendly. “Why?” she asked, sitting up and looking over at him, brows ever so slightly furrowed in surprise. “Is that what you want?”

[osvaldrps-archived]

Serkay Tütüncü and Cemre Gümeli in Bay Yanlış, episode 9

[rebeccawxlsh]

→ @brennan-walsh

[rebeccawxlsh]

b. walsh​:

“What? You want to raise an only child?” Brennan gasped in mock horror. “If my parents hadn’t rescued Bowie from the pound when he was thirteen just think how insufferable I’d be now.” Teeth sinking into his lesser lip, he fought back a toothy grin as he gave Rebecca a knowing stare. “Sort of like you, mm? So cruel and vindictive.” Brennan’s grip around his wife briefly tightened as he gave her an affectionate squeeze, tone naturally teasing in nature. “But I guess I can be patient.” Brennan was utterly thrilled at the chance for one baby, he wasn’t about to push their luck much further than that. He’d gotten the sense anyway after all of the difficulty they’d had getting pregnant over the years that Rebecca might only ever want to go through this the once. Maybe a few years down they line they’d adopt, he mused, but that was still a very abstract thought. Their marriage would have to survive in the first place. “Well I assumed the Sox hat wasn’t just for the aesthetic appeal.” That was the fundamental difference between Rebecca and Noemi, he’d come to realize in the early days of dating Rebecca. There wasn’t a cognitive dissonance between the things they loved. Rebecca loved Boston, for its erratic drivers and dueling cannolis and rabid sports fans. It’d never been difficult to fit their lives together (at least until recently). They’d been each other’s missing puzzle piece. 

Certainly love was difficult, all good love was, but theirs wasn’t where it counted, at least. Fundamentally they had the same goals, and he and Noemi never had. They’d hit a rough patch, but Brennan was willing to fight for what they had. “Bargaining, not bribery.” He corrected with a roll of his eyes. That was Christine’s tactic — never with Brennan, he’d been an angelic and obedient child. Bowie, however, required much more persuasion to function in life. “I don’t think we’ll be able to help but have a spoiled rotten kid. How am I supposed to say no to something that’s fifty percent you?” Brennan had been compromised the moment Rebecca had waltzed into his life, keen for whatever plans she made or vacations she set, pleased with whatever furniture she picked out or her choice in meal or restaurant. Brennan was very much meant to be a husband in that regard — he liked that his wife made the majority of the decisions. “I thought I was a goner when I met you, but our baby?” Brennan let out a low whistle. “I’m going to be wrapped around their little fingers in a neat bow.”

“Now I never said that”. Her own experiences of rattling around her home as the only child, with no siblings to rely on and only her own imagination ( and the paid staff ) to amuse her. No, when Rebecca had been younger she’d dreamed of a whole fleet of children, each talented and clever and interesting and funny and hers. But given the struggles to get to this one...she wasn’t going to start counting her chickens yet. “Lets just get this one out first and then you can start planning the football team and --” she added after a brief beat, reaching over to run her fingers across his smooth cheek “--you’re still insufferable. I just learnt to put up with it”. She might have still considered herself to have more than lucked out when it came to the husband lottery, that didn’t mean that some days she didn’t sometimes want to kill him, especially when she’d had a less than peachy day herself. “How very dare you Brennan Walsh, that’s my favourite hat you’re insulting”. Actually, though she mainly only wore it at games, there was an undeniable comfort to the cap he spoke about. Some people tried to hide their hometown pride, but not Rebecca. And not just because it had always been made very clear to her by her father that her role was to be wholesome and look good in family photos, but because she truly did love the city. Boston was in her very DNA, it ran in her blood, and she saw no life for herself outside of the city. Of course, she was well aware that some day she was going to have to make a difficult decision. Brennan couldn’t keep running back and forth across the country for eighteen years trying to be a father. But she wasn’t thinking about that for now, that was a problem for future Rebecca. 

“You’ll learn”. After all, it was all well and good to joke that this baby would be ruling the roost, but she had seen those children, those spoilt brats who got everything and anything and it seemed to Rebecca that being too fair and generous only led to dysfunctional adults. There was a balance. Admittedly, they were both easy targets. One needed only look at their dog who ate as well as a dog could under Rebecca’s watch, who tore apart the newest toys that Brennan slipped under his nose...but Bruno was a dog, and ultimately -- he couldn’t talk back. “I refuse to always be bad cop just because you can’t say no” Rebecca added with a grin, gently bumping her head against his shoulder affectionately. For a few seconds she mused over that prospect, one that had seemed impossible just a few weeks ago. A mother. “For one, I would be a terrible bad cop”. She had so little of a backbone it was a wonder she was able to stand according to her father, that the idea of facing off with a toddler seemed terrifying. With a contented sigh she glanced back up at Brennan. “Well when we have to mortgage the apartment just so you can buy them the latest toy I’ll know who to blame”

[rebeccawxlsh]

b. walsh​:

Brennan had plenty of dreams when it came to being a father, of carting them around to their activities and sitting in the front row every time, being the loudest voice at their games, firm and encouraging but no overbearing. A lot like Charles had been, but softer. Charles never missed a single one of Brennan’s games growing up, closing the shop up early if he had to in order to be present. Even with Brennan’s vastly different career choice, he knew there wasn’t anything he’d choose over being a good father. “Don’t say that” Brennan scolded as a hand fell protectively over her midsection. “This baby is going to love all things Boston sports and that’s that.” In truth, Brennan would throw on a tutu if it meant supporting whatever their child was inevitably interested in. All that mattered is that they were in constant pursuit of pastimes that made them happy, not what Brennan wanted to see.

“But if they don’t,” Brennan shrugged his shoulders. “You can have this one, and I’ll just try and convince the next one.” He declared candidly, mischievous grin perched on his lips. “And if all else fails, I’ll just bribe them into watching the games with me, like I did with you.” Baseball hadn’t started out as a typical tradition for the pair, but if there was a game on in Boston, from hockey, basketball to baseball, you could count on Brennan being stowed away in the nosebleed section with an overpriced hotdog and a smile on his face. Hell, he’d even hitch a ride down to Foxborough for a Patriots game if he could manage to scalp a ticket. Rebecca had been remarkably cool when he’d invited her along on these excursions, never seeming like she was doing him a favor, but actually enjoying the time together. In turn, Brennan found himself dozing off in museums and art galleries for her sake, but the truth of the matter was, he was happy doing anything as long as it was by her side. “However, bribing you with sexual favors was free. I’ve got a feeling I’m going to lose out buying the hottest new toy just to get our kid to spend time with me.”

Intimacy had never been an issue for them. In the early days people had joked that they were one being, always entangled together; his hand in hers on an autumn walk, her head resting on his shoulder when they went out with friends. But still, Brennan’s hand against her stomach came as somewhat of a surprise. It wasn’t like his hands were cold or anything, but how comfortable he was doing it, resting his hand against her midsection, even as it was flat as a pancake, no sign of any baby at all. At least not yet. Perhaps if she’d been doing the same thing, resting her hand against her own stomach it wouldn’t have startled her, but she’d been so paranoid that if she did she’d break the spell. But with Brennan it was different, as he joked about the fact that the tiny little bean that was nothing more than a bundle of developing cells would in fact like sports even if it killed them, she slipped her hand over his, feeling the soft rise and fall of her breathing. Was it really possible that in a few months time all of her endless work doing pilates and yoga ( which admittedly had slipped whilst they’d been away ), would all go to nothing as her body became a home for someone else. On her own it didn’t seem possible, but with Brennan here everything felt new and fresh and hopeful. 

“The next one?” she reared up, glancing over to look at him with more than a hint of panic in her eyes. Surely it wasn’t possible he was already thinking that far down the line? Surely he wasn’t considering that they would be lucky enough to get two miracles? After all the endless years of trying, the fact that they were even here now with the prospect of one baby ( provided she didn’t somehow fail at that job ), that was more than enough for Rebecca. “Let’s get this one out first safely”. And that was before she considered that part of it, the...getting out. Her pain tolerance had been good, but even the thought of the birth bit was enough to send a cold chill down her spine. “You didn’t bribe me Bren -- for one, I actually like sports”. Well, she had been a bit ambivalent towards them, happy to watch them on the telly when they came around but not enough to go down to the stadium. But then, she’d Brennan more than she’d disliked sports. It had been a no brainer. “Bribery is a time honoured tradition in parenting. Or at least, that’s what I hear”. And she’d heard it, many times, from friends who complained down the phone at her about how they wished they’d never had kids, before they quickly remembered who they were talking to and stammered out a grovelling apology. 

[rebeccawxlsh]

b. walsh​:

“Becca,” Brennan chastised softly, brow knitting as he shook his head gently. “I can handle this.” And even if he couldn’t, he’d figure out a way how. What was difficult was the time in-between seeing Rebecca, the hours spent languishing in St. Vincents waiting for some sense of purpose to present itself to him, something that meant all of this distance and all of this pain would be worth it. The baby was something to look forward to, but there was still so much brush to clear away before he felt he could even traverse the long and winding road towards having Rebecca back in his life completely. Their time together was precious and always too short — he didn’t want to overstay his welcome by any means, and a part of him hoped in some small and childish way that she’d start to miss him more than she hated Saint Vincents. But, in the absence of such an occurrence, he lived for texts messages, the occasional FaceTime, and knowing that every day finished was a day closer towards a weekend in Boston with her. “I can’t not work. That’s just not realistic. If I don’t figure out a way to balance my life now? Before this baby? I’d just be letting them down, and you. I’m not going to do that again. Sure, this isn’t ideal. But it’s the way it needs to be right now. And if something has to change… Then I’ll be honest.”

That wasn’t entirely honest in it of itself, that Brennan would admit that any part of their current arrangement wasn’t working for him. He felt stronger than usual, actually prepared to handle Jack Gilmore and his ilk than he had when his mother’s passing was quite fresh and Brennan wasn’t capable of anything. He knew before this baby was born he had to speak to Noemi, really speak to her. To figure out what was best for Jackson, and to dedicate himself to that pursuit, even if it made Brennan’s own life more complicated. He’d come to realize he could do complicated, but life without Rebecca in it simply wasn’t an option. “Oh yeah?” Brennan huffed from his nose as a tentative smile grew. “I’ve been pretty bad too.” For years, Brennan would encounter something for a baby that he couldn’t help but by, his stock of items he was too mortified to ever show Rebecca always hidden away at his mother’s. Waiting, hoping. “Mostly onesies so we can match for baseball season. And baby shoes so we can have matching footwear.” Brennan looked away, somewhat embarrassed by the omission. It was one thing to go shopping for the practical, but he felt unexplainably overexposed for having made more frivolous, intimate purchases.

Somewhere along the line she did know that worrying about Brennan was a pointless habit, that stress was bad for babies, and that ultimately this system was working, even if it still felt clunky and unusual. Which was why she stayed quiet, merely nodding her head in the face of Brennan’s promises. She simply had to trust that when he said he was fine with making these long journeys, he wasn’t saying them through gritted teeth, lying just to try and keep her happy whilst he stoked any quiet resentment back in Saint Vincent’s. “Okay” she conceded, a low sigh escaping between her lips that seemed to alert Bruno who promptly raised his head and landed it heavily on her thigh. They only had a short time together, and going back and forth on a constant discussion that Brennan shouldn’t have to make the journey made no sense. It wasn’t like she could go back to Saint Vincent’s. Even the thought of coming back, of facing up to what was no doubt relentless town gossip, to face Noemi...it was enough to make her stomach lurch. Her hand reached out to stroke the top of Bruno’s head softly, calming and silencing the thoughts that were already starting to race in her head.

Sure, she knew she couldn’t stay holed up in the small apartment forever. That one day soon she’d look around the place and realise there wasn’t enough room. So she knew that one day she would have to go back to Maryland, but not today, and not now. She relaxed back against Brennan, lips curving up into a wide smile as he mentioned that he too have been making secret purchases. Even if his secret purchases were slightly less practical. “What are you going to do if the baby doesn’t like sports?” she asked teasingly, glancing up at him with a toothy grin. Just because they had spent many happy occasions watching games on television and in stadiums didn’t mean that their future offspring would necessarily share the same enjoyment. 

[rebeccawxlsh]

b. walsh​:

“Of course I know that.” Brennan assured Rebecca quietly before placing a kiss against the top of her head. While their living situation wasn’t Brennan’s ideal scenario, he was learning to acclimate to this new normal. Half of the week spent in D.C., a few days in Saint Vincents, and the weekend here in Boston with his wife. The morning he’d come to kiss her goodbye he’d noticed those small but integral details — photos of them on her nightstand. It’d been something seemingly insignificant that had meant more to Brennan than Rebecca probably realized. “I’m certainly learning not to let a single moment with you go to waste.” Not that Brennan had ever treated their time together as disposable, there had always been a concept that they had plenty of days before them to spend together — if he focused on his career now, they’d reap the benefits later. And clearly, Brennan hadn’t been operating in a way that could ever possibly sustain their marriage, let alone a growing family. But he was determined to fix that, to get his metaphorical house in order, and step up to the plate. 

“I get through the week knowing I’ll get to see you at the end of it.” Brennan offered a faint smile then, gaze still focused intently on Rebecca’s. “Soon there’s going to be ultrasounds, and doctors visits, and whatever else… And I can’t wait to be here for it. To get into arguments about how to build a ridiculously expensive crib, and trying to baby proof everything… I just want to spend time with you, Bex. It really doesn’t matter what we’re doing. I’ll take what I can get here.”

Of course, Brennan could reassure her till the end of time and there would still be a significant part of her that would worry all hours of the day. Surely it wasn’t healthy for him to live this sort of a lifestyle, where he was never settled but just living out of a suitcase, constantly travelling up and down the country. It had to be tiring. And, just because Brennan might have cleaned up nicely and insisted that he was fine with it all didn’t mean she totally believed him. She just knew what her husband was like; strong, stoic, to levels that had gotten on top of him last time. She didn’t want him to end up in that place again, but this time quietly loathing her for her part in it all, only holding his tongue because he didn’t want anything to happen to the baby. “I just don’t want you to think you have to do this. If the travelling is too much or anything...”. But even if it was too much she doubted he’d actually tell her. 

Ultrasounds and doctor visits. When he put it like that it all sounded so real. On the one hand she was aware that she wasn’t hallucinating the entire thing, but she needed that confirmation from someone other than herself. A doctor who wouldn’t lie. Who would tell her if what had happened was she’d just gone out of her mind and imagined the whole thing. Hysterical pregnancies did happen. They were rare but they happened, and it wasn’t like she’d been in the best of places when she’d found out their news. So yes, a part of her did still think a doctor would take one look at her and tell her she was being ludicrous, but god when Brennan spoke of those milestones...she wanted them so badly. Badder than she’d ever wanted them before, especially now they were in clutching distance. “I already started a wishlist on Amazon” she admitted, cheeks flushing pink in embarrassment. The wishlist had always been there, just filed away for that occasion of one day. And now that day had apparently arrived. “So you know, I’ve already got us covered on overpriced cribs”

[rebeccawxlsh]

b. walsh​:

“Wouldn’t be the first time I kept you indoors for an entire weekend” Brennan mused with a suggestive tone, singular brow raised in Rebecca’s direction as very specific memories were compelled to the forefront of his mind. He’d been always been regimented in his law school days, many Sunday nights were spent trying to speed read through three days worth of materials for the simple fact that one night’s stay at Rebecca’s apartment had turned into the entire weekend, where take-out and delivery were the prerogative, and they never strayed much beyond the confines of her bed. They’d had a hell of a lot less to worry about then, but the sentiment remained the same. If all Brennan did that entire weekend was lay around with Rebecca and chat over junk food, he’d be completely happy. “Well they were all sleeping quite soundly and I didn’t want to disturb them” He retorted with a smug grin. 

“You truly underestimate my appetite” Brennan wagged a finger before placing the order. He had to pause in his head to consider if he had small bills to give the delivery person a cash tip and, certain he did, tossed his phone gently onto the coffee table before his attention was entirely Rebecca’s again. “Hey” Brennan cast his wife a wounded gaze. “I didn’t want to wake you up. You were sleeping so peacefully you didn’t even stir when I tucked you in or kissed you goodbye. The sun wasn’t even up yet” Brennan’s arm would drop from her shoulders, snaking between her and the cushions as he drew her ever closer. “But you don’t have to ask me twice to stay, Bex. I just want you to know I’m not trying to weasel my way in here with excuses. It’s your place, I’m just happy to be here.”

“No, that is very true” Rebecca agreed, meeting his raised brow with a sly smile of her own. Of course she knew of what he was angling at, the long lazy weekends they’d spent lying in each others arms, occasionally sleeping but mostly just talking. Not that anything they ever said was particularly intelligent, mostly it was just nonsense, inside jokes and lazy murmurings as they drank in each others presence. It had been a long time since they’d done that, really and truly just talking for the sake of talking. After they’d married, every conversation needed to have a purpose, they still had fun, but the magic of those early days disappeared in place of the real world; jobs and monetary commitments. “They are incredibly heavy sleepers its true” she teased, voice slipping into a deadpan snark as she nodded with incredible seriousness. Of course, one look in her bedroom would have told Brennan that the only person who had slept in the double bed was her, on the same side of the bed she’d slept in that she’d shared with Brennan, and with photos on the side table and on the chest of drawers of them on special occasions; their wedding, their first holiday, casual snaps that had been taken around the city. Just because Brennan might not have been in the apartment much didn’t mean his presence wasn’t very much felt. 

In all honesty, the idea of Brennan sneaking into her room, ensuring the duvet was tight around her before he left to hit the road wasn’t all that surprising. What surprised her was how deeply she’d slept that night. Perhaps it had just been Brennan’s presence, on the other side of the door, bringing a sense of safety she hadn’t felt before since she’d arrived back in Boston on her own. Her whole being was entwined with Brennan’s, and as she worried about him night and day, whether he was close or far away, it did make sense that on some level she hadn’t been able to understand, just knowing he was there had been enough for her body to truly relax and drag her into deep sleep. “Well, I like you being here. It’s far too quiet without you around” she admitted, moving to rest her head against his chest as he pulled her in closer ( much to the chagrin of Bruno ). “I know it’s weird right now, but...you’re always welcome here Bren, you know that right?”

[rebeccawxlsh]

b. walsh​:

“Well only if you take the couch this time” Brennan teased with a toothy grin, fingers prodding into her shoulder gently as she leaned against him. “You wouldn’t be my wife if you didn’t have a secret stash of peanut butter chocolate Haagen Daas somewhere. You may have fancied yourself smart for trying to hide the pints, but I always found them.” Brennan had always had a bit of a sweet tooth, that much was true. If he could have had dessert instead of dinner he’d count himself lucky. And, on the rare occasion he had an ice cream sandwich in the morning, which he dubbed ‘the breakfast of champions’, he was sneaking around the condo like a CIA agent as to not be caught — which oft failed and ended with plenty of laughter. “We most certainly need two cookie cakes” Brennan overruled as he thumbed the ‘+’ button next to the item to add it to the cart.

“Don’t you know I have to fatten you up so that I don’t have to worry about far more appealing men trying to seduce you while I’m away?” Brennan hadn’t ever been a jealous man, quite far from it, but there was something to be said about his vulnerable, pregnant wife wandering around Boston without him that gave him some pause. How long would it take before she found a more than decent man, one that, at the drop of a hat, would happily raise a child that wasn’t his — that could provide the mental and emotional stability Brennan couldn’t? It was a fear he’d discussed at length with Dr. Weintraub, but not one he’d ever voice so seriously to Rebecca. Lest he pile on any more guilt. “And then we’ll have second dessert halfway through the movie, and you just might survive it.”

It wasn’t like she hadn’t fallen asleep plenty of times on the couch they were currently sat on. Of course, on those occasions she usually awoke at some random time in the morning and dragged herself into her own bed, but the point still stood. As a sofa, it was comfy enough to fall asleep on. “I can do that” she agreed with a nod. “Well they were never a secret”. If they were a secret then he would never have found them, but as it happened she’d never been mad enough to hide her pints of ice cream that usually took up at least one drawer ( usually two ). Of course, by the time Brennan returned from his day of work then she had usually gone to bed and demolished the pint, occasionally letting Bruno have a quick lick of the spoon when she had finished. “Okay, fine, two cookie cakes. But no extras. I’m not going to be able to fit through the door at this rate. Unless” she shifted up on the sofa, leaning her hands on his shoulder as she peered over to look at his phone. “This is all your master plan so I never go outside ever again-”.

She’d been joking of course, but they made such similar comments almost at the same time that she couldn’t help but gape at Brennan in mock offence. “Well then you’d better not take a look in my bedroom or you’ll find my harem of men” she snarked, returning her attention to the true man of her life -- her dog. Besides, Brennan had no fear of her ever allowing her gaze to wander; she still had to pinch herself sometimes when she remembered that she’d managed to marry a man who was so much cleverer and interesting than she was, even more so after her recent antics which would have sent anyone running for the hills. Instead Brennan was more than cooperating, but purchasing pizza for a movie night. “I still think it’s too much. But I guess we can just have cold pizza for breakfast” she mused, nudging at Brennan with her foot. “If you’re going to stick around this time. I know that many women complain about waking up alone but I never imagined I’d be in that position with my husband of all people”

[rebeccawxlsh]

b. walsh​:

“No pepperoni?” Brennan pouted, dramatically languishing against the sofa as he let out a woeful sigh. “How about half sausage and half plain? Then you can be as unadventurous as you want, and I can actually have some flavor.” Brennan’s teasing smugness faded as Rebecca carried on about worrying over him. It sounded eerily similar to speeches he’d once had to endure his mother giving. Back when he’d been foolish enough to think he’d had everything and his life was very much perfect, Christine Walsh had been sure to let Brennan know how fragile a precipice life balanced itself on. He’d only truly begin to understand such sentiments now, when his mother was no longer around to wax poet to. “And I think I was foolish enough to think I didn’t have to worry about you” He murmured with a slight frown, only heartening back up at the mention of late-night snack runs, which he was very much obliged to do for the woman carrying his child. 

“Maybe I should just give you the hotel with room service for the weekend and I’ll stay here with the mutt.” Brennan would have relinquished his night’s stay if Rebecca wanted the added comfort of not having to clean up after herself, running up as much of a bill as she wanted on meals and treats, though the minibar would be mostly useless to her. “Or you just let me know when I can go and fetch Ben and Jerry’s from the 7-11 around the corner and I’ll do just that.” He would lean in then, lips pressed against her cheek before his hand withdrew, only to fish out his phone for the online order. “We’re obviously going to need mozzarella sticks as well. And fries. Probably two pizzas…” Brennan mused as his thumb scrolled through the menu, lips pursed as he perused all of the options. It’d not been long ago that he’d pretended splitting a pizza would sate his appetite, only to be snacking on his very luxurious typical meal of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches thirty minutes into the movie. “… Should we get a cookie cake for dessert? How hungry are you?” Brennan paused, glancing down at her stomach before looking up to Rebecca. “You’re eating for two. So we’ll get two cookie cakes.”

“Fine” she conceded, eyes rolling as she looked over at Brennan fondly. Compromise seemed to be key, but really pizza toppings were not the hill she was willing to die on ( even if she did object to his insinuation that the meat free side would be flavourless ). The lightness in the room dipped ever so slightly, the easy breezy attitude they’d been exuding disappearing to be replaced by a moment of quiet. It was a funny sort of sadness, both of them stuck on either sides and not quite sure how to find the ultimate compromise that would satisfy both of them. And she had tried. In the downtime between work calls and emails fired off, she had sat and considered the options that laid before them. A secondary base in between Maryland and Boston. Somewhere that they could go instead on the weekends, the ultimate middle ground. But she had discounted that idea pretty quickly. She’d considered for the briefest of moments going back to Saint Vincent’s and simply learning to live with her own dislike of the place. That idea had disappeared even quicker at the thought of going back to a place that had done a number on both of them. She’d even considered the absolute extreme of moving to somewhere totally different, a different coast, a different country, somewhere that people didn’t know who they were. All possibilities, but none of them really solutions. “I guess we just have to worry about each other” she said after a moments pause, reaching out to grasp his hands carefully. And of course, the worry may not have been pleasant, but it was wholly different from ambivalence, something that she feared far more. 

“You don’t need to do that Brennan, I’m more than happy staying here, I’m just saying that you can stay here too if you want”. Brennan’s generosity bordered on the ludicrous sometimes, especially given that the entire apartment had been furnished to her tastes, all soft lighting, cushions and throws on every spare corner. It was a space designed with comfort and nurture in mind, a little place of calm in the city. “You’re fine” she chuckled, slapping his arm lightly. The ludicrous ( and it seemed, according to most blogs at least, rather gross ) cravings hadn’t kicked in yet, and wouldn’t for a fair while. “Besides, I already have some Hagen Daaz in the freezer. I’m not an animal you know”. She watched with a smile as Brennan pulled out his phone, engrossing himself with the task whilst she fussed at Bruno, trailing her fingers cross his curled up body as she watched her husband. Of course she always knew he was handsome, but she was never so certain as when she was watching him when he wasn’t doing anything at all. When his brow was relaxed and he looked content. It was a look that was rare, and because of that she cherished it even more. “I don’t need two cookie cakes” Rebecca protested. “I’m going to get fat enough without you adding the extra pounds on in deserts”

[rebeccawxlsh]

b. walsh​:

“Of course you’d say that.” Brennan rolled his eyes, knowing Rebecca never complained. And even at her breaking point, you’d never quite know if something had ever truly inconvenienced her without pulling teeth. “But I think for the sake of my back I need to sleep in a bed. That car ride home was brutal.” While it wasn’t so much a sore back or achey muscles, leaving Boston had been a gut wrenching experience. It didn’t matter that he knew he’d be back at the end of the week, leaving Rebecca behind had been a truly awful feeling. “He’s a useless little thing, isn’t he?” Brennan laughed as he reached over to pat Bruno’s flank with a grin. If he were any degree less sane then he’d be jealous of the dog, soaking up all of Rebecca’s love and affection so effortlessly. “Sounds like you’ve got the plans all made, then” Brennan would lean back into the sofa, arm draping over Rebecca’s shoulders as he settled in. 

“Pineapple and salami should be illegal on pizza, so you won’t find any arguments here.” There was a great sense of nostalgia to the layout of that evening’s plans, back when they’d holed up Brennan’s dorm, constantly interrupted by idiotic freshmen who’d clogged drains or had too much to drink. When the dinner Brennan could afford was a large pizza for two, and even toppings had been a luxury. They could spend an hour in Blockbuster arguing over a movie to watch before Brennan relented to another romantic comedy or drama, and ended up enjoying it more than Rebecca in the end. But his quiet reminiscing was cut short as she probed about work, Brennan shrugging and nodding in response to her questions. “It’s something to build a routine around, which is nice. But you don’t need to worry about me, Bex” His other hand would lift to her cheek, affectionate smile thrown her way. “You’re the one who’s pregnant, I’m just the guy who makes sure you get all the junk food and tear-jerker movies you’d heart desires. As always.”

Never one to argue back, Rebecca was always the first person to fold in a disagreement, to simply nod and accept that she was wrong. Even with Brennan, the person who she was supposed to, and did, trust implicitly. But she also refused to allow Brennan to feel like an imposition, she wanted him to feel welcome, and no matter how much he insisted her concerns were nonsense, she still couldn’t help but worry that if she said the wrong thing then Brennan’s weekly trips would disappear, that they would become even more fragmented than they already were. “Because it’s true” she insisted, though she would never make Brennan stay on her couch over his own back health. “Okay, that’s fair”. She appreciated that he’d booked a room this time, that unlike how some men would try and angle their way to an invitation to stay the night, Brennan was giving her space. Respectful and dutiful as he always was. “I mean we don’t have to-”. God she really was a control freak, even planning out what was supposed to be a relaxed, casual evening with her plans. She wasn’t the spontaneous type, she couldn’t simply throw caution to the wind like Brennan could and go for a wander and maybe pick up food. She had her routine and her order. It was the lack of routine that had sent her over the edge back in Maryland, so she was even more regimental now. 

“-And pepperoni. I will never understand the appeal of a meat feast pizza”. She was more than happy to commit to a sloppy pizza, with all of its carbs and endless oil, but there were only so many pizza toppings one could handle, and the meat feast was just a bit too much. With Brennan’s arm slung casually over her shoulder, she was careful to not lean too much of her weight against him, though she did rest her head against his shoulder, the way she always had done when the television was on, and they were watching whatever channel they’d flicked through to. “I always worry about you” she shrugged simply, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. The thing was that to Rebecca, it was normal. She was a worrier anyway, but even before they’d had no choice but to relocate, she’d worried about her husband, her quiet, stoic, always working too hard husband. “I probably always will worry about you” she added a second later, glancing over at Brennan as his fingers brushed against her cheek. “That’s my job right? I’m meant to worry about you. Especially now, I can’t have you dropping dead from stress when I need you to run and get me ice cream at ungodly hours”

[rebeccawxlsh]

b. walsh​:

“I have a hotel for the weekend. I wasn’t going to put you out again. Plus, I think Bruno’s fairly sick of me at this point.” Brennan smiled, adjusting the strap on his duffel bag as he shut the door behind him and shuffled inside the apartment. The last time he’d navigated his way around it’d been at dawn, not wanting to turn any lights on or make any sound that would disturb Rebecca’s slumber. He’d been sure to run the tap low when he’d brushed his teeth that morning, fumbling around in the dark to ready himself before he simply threw on sweats and a hat and called it presentable for a drive home. But before he’d left he’d been sure to tuck her in soundly, affectionate kiss against her brow as she slept. 

“Movie and a pizza sound even better” Brennan called back as he started to weasel his way out of the suit that Rebecca had picked out at the tailor once upon a time, nowadays feeling a bit snug with all of his baking. It was a hobby he’d have to relax a bit, because no amount of running or time at the gym seemed to be addressing his comfort eating. While he would have probably liked to have jumped into sweatpants at that very moment he opted for something between that and his work attire — a crewneck, jeans, and a pair of tennis shoes. After folding and hanging his suit in her closet (he wasn’t about to let the thing wrinkle), Brennan would meander back to the living room, plopping on the side of Rebecca sans dog. “We’ll just have to argue over toppings.”

“You didn’t put me out last time” Rebecca countered with a shrug. As she’d insisted the previous time, putting a few pillows and a blanket on the sofa was hardly an extreme demand, and he had left the place so quietly and neat. Truly, the perfect house guest. Still, perhaps if Bruno was here then Brennan wouldn’t have been lucky enough to get the sofa; what Bruno wanted, Bruno got. That had always been the rule. And, that was the rule now as the dog rested his head against her lap, and Rebecca focussed of scratching behind his ears, smiling fondly at him as he let out a few small yips of contentment, snuffling deeper into her lap. She could hear Brennan in the bathroom, his footsteps sounding over the creaky floorboards. Back in their old apartment the floorboards had been newly laid, they’d had rugs and carpets and underfloor heating. Things weren’t nearly as luxurious in the apartment she was in now, but there was a certain charm to how rickety it was. And there was something entirely familiar, and wholly comforting about the fact that she could hear Brennan moving around -- when she was on her own it was just that little bit too quiet. 

“I think you will be hard pressed to get this one moving” Rebecca said, looking down at Bruno with a wink. Sure the dog had spent hours inside the car, but he was also comfortable, and besides, Rebecca was lazy. She didn’t feel like going for a long walk, unless Brennan was particularly keen. She was more than happy with ordering pizza and flicking through Netflix, just like they’d done in the old days in Brennan’s dorm room, blankets piled up into a small fort they could hide away in. In those days of course, there had been a trip to Blockbusters before, but now everything was so easy that they didn’t even need to leave the apartment. “And there’s a really nice Pizza place just a few miles from here”. It was of course, the same pizza joint they’d ordered from many times before, back when they’d been in college, and later when they’d moved across the city. Cheesy perhaps, and hopelessly nostalgic, but it was also a damn good pizza place. “You know the rule, so long as there’s no pineapple and no salami anything goes” Rebecca shrugged, moving up slightly and disrupting Bruno ( who now appeared to be snoozing ) so that Brennan could sit down comfortably. “How’s the job? They’re not working you too hard are they? Because you know...you should still be taking it easy for now”