Robbie runs out of — he doesn’t know, courage? Steam? Runs out of something when he reaches the bar. Melissa’s back is to him, and considers just going to the bathroom, even though he doesn’t need to, maybe ordering a drink, because he’s not sure what to say to her, how to open shit. ‘Hi, I’m your boyfriend’s ex-boyfriend, are you aware he’s a piece of shit?’. So instead he’s just hovering, staring at her like a fucking creeper, which is great. Robbie’s night is going terrific.
“Can I help you?” she asks, not even looking at him, and Robbie realizes she might think he’s just come to hit on her or some shit. She met him for two seconds, along with two dozen other dudes, Georgie wouldn’t have told her shit about him, and she probably gets hit on all the time. Georgie said she was a bartender. Not to Robbie, and not — Robbie wasn’t listening or anything, he just heard Georgie say it. Guys probably hit on her every night.
“Do you know who I am?” Robbie blurts out before he can think about it, which sounds like some ego tripping bullshit.
She glances over at him. “Georgie’s teammate,” she says, and, before he can say anything, “And yeah, I know the rest.”
Robbie highly doubts that. Imagines Georgie gave her a highly sanitized version at maximum, some ‘hey one of those dudes hates my guts, who knows why, ha ha, don’t listen to anything he tells you about me being a cheating sack of shit’.
“Tell you we played in college together?” Robbie asks.
“He did, yep,” she says.
“Tell you what else he got up to in college?” Robbie asks.
“If this is you trying to get around to the subject slowly, I know he cheated on you,” Melissa says. Says it matter-of-fact, like it’s just — like it’s something you say. Like it’s something Georgie had any fucking right to tell her.
“I—” Robbie says, at a loss for words, and when the bartender hands her drinks — two, one for Georgie, obviously she’s picking up for Georgie too — he says, “I was just making sure you knew.”
“Well, I know,” Melissa says.
“And you’re still dating the guy?” Robbie asks.
“Why do you care?” Melissa asks.
“I’m just trying to—” Robbie says.
“What?” Melissa says. “Look out for me? Is that what you’re going to say?”
“Apparently someone has to,” Robbie says.
“I think we both know what you’re doing right now,” she says. “And it isn’t looking out for me.”
“What?” Robbie says. “Convinced you’re different, right? You’re the exception. He could never do it to you. Why fuck around when he has you?”
“We have an open relationship,” she says, looking away from him. Scanning for Georgie, probably. Robbie’s surprised he hasn’t shown up. Or not surprised, if this was his plan. Robbie’s still not sure what the fuck it’d be his plan for. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Oh yeah?” Robbie asks. “And I’m betting that was his idea.” All the fucking around and none of the cheating. Bet Georgie loves that loophole.
“We both agreed on it being open from the start,” she says. “Again, not that it’s any of your fucking business.”
“But you’re telling me anyway,” Robbie says.
“Well, it seems like it’d make you feel better,” Melissa says. “You know, if you were looking out for me.”
Robbie can’t think of an answer to that before she’s talking again.
“Our beers are getting warm, so if you’re not about to tell me that Georgie eats children or votes Republican or something, you’re kind of wasting my time right now,” she says, and Robbie can’t think of anything to say to that either before she’s walking away from him, this sway in her hips like she’s fucking proud of herself or something, and there’s one tiny part of him that accepts that’s a pretty good exit, but it’s overtaken by the rest of him, who fucking hates her.
Robbie notices Matty coming over the second he manages to turn away, and he bets he was hovering the whole time, trying to what, babysit Robbie, sure Robbie was going to do — who the fuck knows. He can’t even be mad about it right now, because whatever Matty thought, he was probably right.
He thought he could do this, but apparently there’s a difference between sharing a room, a team, a bench, being — not okay with it, that isn’t the word, but dealing, and knowing Georgie’s fucking someone else, that he’s moved right on, being confronted by that.
Robbie needs — he doesn’t know. Saul. His mom. Ted. For her to get the fuck out of his bar, for Georgie to get the fuck off the planet. Not Matty, that twisted up expression on his face, ‘are you okay?’ again but also ‘what stupid shit did you do?’.
“Don’t,” Robbie says, the second Matty’s in hearing distance. “I know, okay, just — don’t.”
“Okay,” Matty says, then, “Bardi.”
“I said don’t,” Robbie says.
“Maybe we should head out?” Matty asks.
“And seem like, what, I fucking care who Georgie brings?” Robbie asks. “Stop fucking looking at me like that.”
“I’m not looking at you like anything,” Matty says.
“She’s a fucking bitch,” Robbie says. “So I guess they deserve each other.”
Matty says something too low for Robbie to catch, muttered, like the kind of shit you say under your breath to hurt someone, half hoping they hear you, half hoping you get away with it. Not that Robbie has experience with that or anything.
“What?” Robbie says.
“Nothing,” Matty says. “Let’s watch the basketball game?”
“Not feeling it,” Robbie says.
“Let’s watch the basketball game,” Matty says, firmer, and Robbie lets him steer him back to the table. He takes Robbie’s spot, so Robbie’s got his back to the bar, the table Georgie’s still at. He knows what Matty’s doing, but he just feels — tired, more than anything, so he lets him do it. Georgie and his chick are gone by the time Robbie’s finished his second round. Driven off, Robbie guesses. He should feel something about that.
“You want to head out?” Matty asks, sort of at Wheels, but mostly at Robbie.
It was in response to this: “She’s a fucking bitch,” Robbie says. “So I guess they deserve each other.” And it was a muttered, ‘then I guess you deserved each other.’
Matty is a saint but he has limits and that limit is stalking his best friend through a bar to make sure he doesn’t assault his ex-boyfriend’s girlfriend. The limit has been reached. The true measure of Matty’s sainthood is that it is said under his breath, not repeated, and that he continues to look out for him the rest of the night, for Robbie’s sake, Melissa and Georgie’s sake, team harmony, and his own sanity.
Future captain of the Capitals, everyone.
Same energy from Melissa to Georgie right after: “Do you always date assholes?” Melissa asks.
For the prompt: Robbie’s POV on his first meeting of Melissa
First impression when writing this: wow I forgot how angry Robbie is
Second impression: aw fuck this is going to be a two-parter.
Robbie knew there was a chick Georgie was dating before she came around. Doesn’t mean he’s ready for it when she walks into the bar after a game. He kind of figured she’d be history before it ever reached that point, but apparently not.
She’s the typical kind of girlfriend for Georgie, hot as shit and knows she is, probably spends more money on her hair and manicures and whatever the fuck than Robbie spends on food in a month, and it was one thing, to know that she existed, and it’s a whole other thing to see her in his space, their goddamn space, clinging to Georgie like he belongs to her.
Robbie swears he can hear this voice in his head right now, all ‘you can bring your boyfriend but Georgie can’t bring his girlfriend?’, in some kind of mash-up between Saul and Cap Q, and that stupid voice is right, he knows it’s right, but he wants her to get the fuck out.
Ted couldn’t come out tonight, is getting brunch with a few friends bright and early tomorrow, way too early for Robbie to even consider tagging along, and Robbie was totally chill about that until right now, when he wants him here more than anything. He’d want him here anyway, but fuck he wants him here right now, so he could — he doesn’t know. Throw him right back at Georgie. That sounds shitty.
“Robbie,” Matty says after Georgie introduces her to the group, Melissa — she looks like a Melissa, and Robbie didn’t know he even had a feeling about that name until right this minute, but his feeling is basically fuck every Melissa ever — and it’s just one word, but it has all this other stuff in it, all ‘are you okay?’ and ‘don’t do anything stupid’ at the same time.
“I’m fine,” Robbie says. “It’s fine.”
If Georgie had told him he was bringing her Robbie probably would have laughed in his face for assuming Robbie gave a flying fuck about it, told him to get over himself, thinking what, Robbie still gave a shit what Georgie did?
Georgie should have fucking told him first.
The part of Robbie that wants her to get the fuck out, never wants to look at her, that clashes hard with the part of Robbie that doesn’t want Georgie to put anyone through the shit he put Robbie through, the shit he seemed to put all his college girlfriends through, not that it was anywhere near as serious as they were, as Robbie thought they were. Claims he didn’t do it in Cleveland, claims he’s a changed man or whatever the fuck, but if there’s anything Robbie knows about Georgie, it’s that Georgie can lie like he breathes when it suits him.
Her and Georgie don’t try to join the table Robbie’s at, thank fuck, halfway across the bar talking to some of the vets, like Georgie belongs there. Craney leans into his space, says, “You’re staring,” and Robbie jerks his eyes down to the table, focuses on his beer, which needs drinking. When most of it’s gone and he looks over again, Georgie’s talking to Cap Q, but his girl’s nowhere to be seen, until Robbie locates her at the bar, probably ordering a drink.
If Georgie didn’t want Robbie to talk to her, he shouldn’t have brought her, or, at the very least, he should have stuck to her like glue. Who knows, maybe this is exactly what he wants. Robbie doesn’t know shit about Georgie when it comes down to it. The idea of playing into his hands is infuriating, enough to make him hesitate, trying to figure out what his game’s supposed to be.
“Bathroom,” Robbie says to the table at large, and Matty looks like he wants to say something as Robbie pushes out from the table, but won’t because there are too many people around, which works for Robbie. Also what works for Robbie: bar’s before the bathroom, and he thinks he might get distracted on the way.
For the prompt: Melissa POV of meeting the Caps/that conversation with Robbie
Melissa is not intimidated by Robbie Lombardi. Not by his history, not by his continued presence in Georgie’s life, not by him at all.
Except maybe that’s too simple.
She’d looked Robbie up after Georgie told her about them. Of course she had — first thing she did when she got home. Same age as Georgie, two years of college that overlapped, then an extra one, the one Georgie had cheated on him, Capitals after. Fucking millionaire, unless he’s blown it all, but then, so’s Georgie.
He’s surprisingly average looking. Average height, brown hair and eyes, same as her — well, she’s taller than average, but not by much — pretty average face though his eyebrows are kind of impressive, like the statement brow trend on acid. It seems like the only thing impressive about him, which is surprising, considering Georgie’s gorgeous.
Maybe he’s better looking in person. She doesn’t know. She’s not exactly the type to go stalking guy’s exes online, but then, it’s sort of stupid easy when he’s kind of a public figure, in a way. Page after page on google images. Some of them are with Georgie on the ice, and she tries not to read into them, the ones in college or the more recent ones.
She tries not to think about him, and she mostly manages, but it comes up sometimes, either with Georgie, when he’s talking about a game, mentions his name, or just in her head when Georgie’s out of town, ‘I wonder if they’re hanging out right now’. It gnaws on her a little, wondering if Georgie overstated the hating thing, thinking about the way he talked about him, regretful, like he’d fix things with them if he could.
She wanted to meet his team anyway, figured that’s a pretty important step, but she probably rushes it more than she would have, because she wants to meet Robbie. Or maybe not even meet him, but see him.
She notices Robbie when they walk in, but that’s only because she’s looking for him. In person he’s…average. She can tell he’s got muscle, but other than that, she wouldn’t have pegged him for a hockey player at all. But then, she didn’t peg Georgie, either. Missing teeth is probably a cliche. She doesn’t get it, but then, she doesn’t get a lot of relationships. The surface stuff isn’t what matters, in her experience, at least not when you’re in it.
She feels his eyes on her half the time — probably on Georgie the other half — and it’s pretty immediately clear that, whatever Georgie says, whatever they have going isn’t even close to buried, seems more like something that just needs a flashpoint to ignite. It makes her feel off-balance, defensive. Well, more defensive, since she walked into the bar that way.
She can’t say she didn’t expect him to find her at the bar when she gets a round for her and Georgie. In fact, she was kind of counting on it, because she’d rather deal with him away from everyone else, knows that Georgie’s already not happy about his place with his team, doesn’t want to make things worse. Hostile workplaces are fucking hell, and, reading between the lines, Robbie’s the whole reason Georgie’s in one.
He stares at the back of her head like a fucking creeper while she orders, and after she pays — the service sucks, and she doesn’t think she wants to stick around long, so no way is she starting a tab — she says, “Can I help you?”, without looking his way.
And, well, apparently she can, if that means getting warned-slash-interrogated-slash-berated in the middle of a fucking bar. He’s…well, intense would be a pretty nice word. Dramatic, if she’s being less nice, and she’s not really feeling nice, not with him standing too close to her, telling her shit Georgie’s already told her like it’s supposed to be a revelation, like he’d actively love seeing her surprise.
There’s warning someone off about toxic people, she sees that shit all the time, has done it herself, taken co-workers, regulars aside, given them a little, ‘hey, look out for this guy’. That’s basic fucking kindness. This is Robbie trying to fuck things up. She knows the type. She sees that all the time too. Georgie fucked up, he totally fucked up, but he was twenty-one years old and he’s owned it, and that’s more than Melissa can say for most people.
“Our beers are getting warm, so if you’re not about to tell me that Georgie eats children or votes Republican or something, you’re kind of wasting my time right now,” Melissa says, and takes some satisfaction in the slightly slack-jawed look on his face when she walks away, though it’s overshadowed by the tension running through her, the kind she runs off, the kind like she wants to fight someone. Not Georgie, and not Robbie either, but only because she’s pretty sure Georgie wouldn’t thank her for it, because fuck knows she could have come back harder and he’d deserve it.
She feels relieved once she gets back to Georgie, but it isn’t until they head out, safely in an Uber, that she quits looking over her shoulder, checking to see if Robbie’s watching her again.
Does Ted ever get to know about robbie and Georgie?
…Yes and no. He knows they were a ‘thing’ in college, but Robbie neglected to mention that the ‘thing’ was a relationship of over a year, the circumstances of that relationship failing, the fact they started having sex again when Georgie came to the Caps (Robbie paints it all as ancient history, but it…isn’t, at the time Ted comes into his life), or the emotions involved. Saul disapproves.
On the other hand, Melissa, Georgie’s (eventual ex) wife, is informed early on about Robbie, which is good, because the first time she meets Robbie is…a lot, and would have been a lot worse if she didn’t understand why he was interrogating her about some shit.
