Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue Ch. 02

Hi! Welcome back to Chapter Two of Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue. If you haven't read the first chapter I strongly suggest you do so before venturing into this piece as you've missed quite a bit. If you read the first chapter already and are back for more THANK YOU VERY MUCH! You are quite appreciated. Please vote/leave a comment if you feel so inclined.

As mentioned before Chapter One this is a sloooooow burn and the sexytimes don't really show up in this one yet, so if you're looking for heat I don't want to mislead you. Is it coming? Hell, yes. Is it in this chapter? Hell, no. I'd like to think it's a good read anyway but I'm hella biased. ::shrug::

Please enjoy the further adventures of Tish and Ted. Chapter Three won't be posted quite as quickly as this one but I'll do my best to make it worth it. Thanks!

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"WOO WOOO! The 'Have Fun at a Wedding Filled With Horrible People' Express is HERE! ALL ABOARD!"

I rubbed at my brow as Tish leaned against the front of her SUV, some sort of dark silver Lexus electric vehicle. Instead of opening the truck's door, I made a gesture of apology to one of my neighbors who had paused in the walking of his dog across the street to take in Tish's proclamation.

She noticed and turned to give him a cheery wave as well. "Hi! I'm Tish and the people who are going to be there are truly the worst! Be happy you don't have to go!"

He gave her a deer-in-the-headlights look, sparing a moment to flick a glance in my direction. Tish shook her head, her hair concealed in some sort of bright red wrap, and pointed at the dog. "Cute! Wheaten Terrier, right? I hear they are the BEST, is that true?"

I rolled my eyes at her sales technique kicking in but my neighbor lit up like a kid on Xmas morning at the opportunity to expound on indeed how wonderful his dog was, and by the time I'd tossed my bag into the back of the truck and hung up my suit - I'd been assured it wasn't a black tie affair - the two of them were babbling about being hypoallergenic and the best kind of kibble. A few more minutes and she'd have him inviting her over for dinner, and she didn't even have a dog of her own.

"Marty, I have LOVED meeting you and your amazing buddy Chester but Ted and I need to get on the road because it's THREE HOURS to get to the terrible wedding, can you believe that?" She shook her head and unleashed her megawattage smile. "I look forward to seeing you and Chester again. For now enjoy the rest of your walk but, hey, who's walking who, right?"

Marty - I think I knew that was his name before all this - laughed with genuine pleasure as we climbed into Tish's car, while I wondered if we had traveled to the 24th Century. I glanced around at the various screens, lights, and controls, somewhat overwhelmed. "Does this thing have pre-made cocktails or do I have to mix them myself at the wet bar?"

She chuckled as we pulled away. "The robot bartender gets installed next week. Are you excited about this?"

"Am I excited about the wedding you just told someone else was going to be filled with hot garbage? No."

"Lamentable, but perhaps that's my fault. I'm not upselling the positives."

I furrowed my brow. "And those are?"

Tish gave me a hurt look. "Me, you big dope. You get to attend this mucus ball of a wedding with *me* and what could be better than that?"

"Okay, sorry. That's a fair point. But in my defense you've been talking more about the bad than the good."

"Given that the 'good' is me I assumed it was understood by all involved, but it's possible I underestimated your comprehension of just how glorious I am."

I couldn't help but chuckle at that. "That's true. You are indeed a good time."

"Oh, you have *no* idea, my friend." She stopped at a red light, fingers tapping the steering wheel. "You know what? I'm going to make you a bet - this is going to be one of the best weekends of your entire life. And I'm saying so knowing that the first part of it was spent in a hospital getting your head sewed back together."

I managed to stop myself from touching my bandage yet again. "That's a bold claim, Tish. What are you willing to put on the line?"

"Hmm." She pursed her lips as the light changed to green and we started moving. "Oh! I have a good one! If you somehow don't walk away from this weekend with me doing everything possible to secure even MORE weekends with me I will take you to dinner, anywhere you want."

"Uhm." I held up a finger while struggling to keep a straight face. "If I have a bad time with you my reward is... spending more time with you?"

"If I'm forced to spill your blood due to your impudence I'm making you pay for the detailing to clean it up. Listen to me - dinner, anywhere you want. You want a burger in Seattle, let's go. Shrimp cocktail on the beach in Key West? Pick a night. McDonalds in Paris? Weird, but yours for the asking."

I tilted my head, considering. "That's a pretty cool offer, I must admit. Other shoe time - what am I betting?"

"Oh, yours is easy." She waved a hand adorned with blue, glittery nails, the color a match for what I'd dreamed about on her lips the night before. Spooky! "If you do have an amazing time - which you will - you have to give your finished manuscripts to an agent. Oh, and what you've written for that series, too."

I sighed, vexed. "We've been over this before, Tish. They're not ready yet."

"I strongly disagree. And in doing so, allow me to briefly change the subject." She gestured around the cabin. "Do you know what I call this thing?"

"The car?" The dash looked like the electronics section of a Best Buy. "USS Enterprise?"

"The aircraft carrier?"

"No, the spaceship, from Star Trek. Captain Kirk, Doctor-" I stopped as I realized she was fighting to keep down laughter. "This is already the worst weekend ever," I said, struggling to keep a grin off my face.

"Yeah, this might actually be the high point."

"Really?"

"Hell, no. I mean, I hope not. Anyway, it's not 'Enterprise.'"

"Okay. Uhm, Henrietta?"

Tish came to a halt at a stop sign and favored me with a look. "Why on earth would I name my car 'Henrietta?'"

"I think the question is, why *wouldn't* you?" I eased back into the ridiculously comfortable seat and turned my palms skyward.

She pressed a thumb against her forehead for a moment before hissing out a sigh and returning her attention to the road. After a few blocks rolled by in silence she waved some fingers in the air. "I call it 'Zone of Truth' because that's what it is, a zone of truth. Any question you get asked, you have to answer truthfully."

I blinked. "Did that come standard or did you have to pay extra for that? It seems like something that would cost extra."

"I should have let the first doctor sew an actual zipper into your forehead," she said, but I'm pretty sure she was biting the inside of her cheeks to keep from cracking up. "ANYWAY, by entering the vehicle you've agreed to abide by the terms of the Zone of Truth, which means no fibbing out of you or else."

"What about you? Am I the only one under the eye of the Inquisition?" An awful thought came to me. "Too bad you didn't get the Nissan version of this, you could have named it Torquearmada."

She grimaced. "My regret is that we're not already traveling at high speed on Route 80 yet, as that would make ejecting you that much more satisfying. Although that is the on-ramp just up ahead, so could you repeat that in about two minutes?"

"I noticed you didn't answer me."

"You did, did you?" Tish slid the car over just in time to make the on-ramp. "Well, it applies to everyone riding in here. That robot bartender is going to have to toe the line as well." The Lexus surged onto the highway in that weird, from-the-future way that electric cars do, settling into the fast lane doing about 75 as she engaged the cruise control. "So. Back to your writing. It's fucking excellent. And I can't lie about that because of the Zone of Truth."

"Yeah, yeah. Unfortunately Zone of Truth doesn't keep you from being perhaps a bit biased." I rubbed at my jaw. "I do appreciate your support and encouragement, I do, but the stuff just isn't ready yet."

"You keep saying that, and I'm sorry but it's bullshit." She grumbled under her breath as she swerved to the right to get by someone plodding along in the fast lane. "I mean, what are you afraid of?"

I shifted in my seat, bristling at her words. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Tish wasn't intimidated by my snarl. "It means I'm asking you what you're afraid of. You're the head writer for the biggest sports network in the world, Bear. I've seen the genius that you create there and if anything your manuscripts are even better. So why are you stalling?"

"I'm not stalling," I said, wishing I was riding on the luggage rack on the roof instead of in the cabin as I squirmed. "It's just... they're not the way I want them to be yet."

"Uh-huh. So you're fine-tuning them, is that it?"

I waved my hands around with exasperation. "Yes, yes, I'm fine-tuning them."

"Okay. When's the last time you worked on them? Any of it - book, scripts, whatever else you've created?"

"I could start looking for good restaurants now, I think." With surprise I realized my hands were clenched into fists and I took in a long, slow breath to calm myself down. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Zone of Truth, Bear." She glanced in my direction with an odd expression. "I'm serious - when's the last time you worked on any of them?"

My eyes looked skyward as I tried to remember. It wasn't that long ago, was it? Silence stretched out as I ransacked my memory. "Uh... I'm not sure. I want to say not long ago but maybe it's been a while."

Tish nodded as if she'd already known the answer. "Okay. Different question: when's the last time you got laid?"

Oh boy. "I think you can just let me out here, no need to slow down, thanks." This was a hell of a minefield to drop me into - was she asking because she wanted to be the next one up? Or would I just stick my foot in my mouth if I went in thinking like that? My lips twisted as if the robot bartender had shown up and started stuffing lemon slices in my mouth. "Is this something-"

"Zone of Truth."

"Yeah, but-"

"Zone. Of. Truth."

"Fine." I blew air through my lips and shook my head. "It... has also been a while."

"Zone. O-"

"Okay, okay, it's been like, almost a year. A year." I rested my forehead in my palm, drummed my fingers on the top of my head. "Longer than a year."

"Since Jessie?"

My shoulders slumped. "Yeah, probably. I mean, I had a couple of dates since then but they didn't work out."

"How would you say they didn't work out? You didn't hit it off with anyone?"

"No, they were fine, it was just... look, what are you getting at here?" My mind was whirling with confusion and embarrassment. "I think-"

"Zone of Truth, Bear." Tish's tone was about as serious as I'd ever heard from her. "I know I'm asking you uncomfortable things but I'm doing so for a reason, a good one. So along with your lack of interest in your writing, have you lost interest in sex as well? Or perhaps had trouble with performance?"

"JESUS CHRIST!" I could feel myself turning several shades of red. This was the last thing I wanted to talk about... or was it? As I stared out the window I realized I hadn't told anyone about what had been going on - or not been going on. It wasn't that I was ashamed, but... ah, who am I kidding? Of course I felt ashamed. Dude law, right? If your cock doesn't work every single fucking time, you must be some kind of loser. Before I even realized I'd decided to speak I heard myself say, in a small voice, "There's been issues."

Tish reached out with her right hand, grabbing my left. Part of me wanted to be spiteful and yank it away, but truth be told the contact felt good, reassuring. "Bear, are you seeing anyone about your depression?"

"My... what?" I gave her an incredulous look. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm not depressed! I'm fine!"

"Okay, I'm addressing this issue not to upset you but because depression is something that shouldn't go ignored." She released her grip and held up her hand as I started spluttering with indignant outrage, waiting until I finished. "I've known you for a long time, Bear, and I can tell when you're not really yourself. You've just confirmed a couple of symptoms, and I'd imagine there are a few more as well. How've you been sleeping?"

"Uhm, that's been kind of a mixed bag." I felt my anger draining away, replaced by some sort of numbing as I considered what she was saying. "But I don't feel suicidal or anything."

"I'm glad to hear that. That is indeed a symptom as well, but you don't need to check every box." She looked away from the road long enough to give me a warm smile. "Depression is a liar, and it does its best to make you feel guilt and shame in addition to everything else. I can't tell you not to feel those things but I will reiterate what I just said - depression is a liar."

"I'm... I'm in a rut, I get it. But depressed?" My nose twitched as I looked through the windshield, not really seeing the cars we were zipping past. "I guess I've been a little down but it's not like... I don't know."

She gave my hand another squeeze. "You've been a little off since I came back, which I figured was due to you and Marisol breaking things off."

I shrugged. "Sure, I wasn't happy things between me and Mari ended, but there was no acrimony between us. She got a great offer in California and I had just been made head writer, so me going as well wasn't even an option." I tugged at an earlobe. "We're still friends, though, yak via text or email every once in a while. She seems to be doing well."

"Okay. And then you got involved with Jessica?"

"Not right away - there were a few dates and other short relationships before we got rolling."

"So." Tish slid open the center armrest and produced some sort of bottled tea. I shook my head as she waggled it in my direction before popping the top off and taking a long pull. "Given that you've never really talked about it, I'm going to assume that the breakup with her was much less amicable than it was with Mari."

"Assume away."

She cocked her head and gave me some quality side-eye. "Do I need to say it?"

"Say wh - ah, 'Zone of Truth,' right?" I made a noise of disgust deep in my throat. "I am going to have some words with the travel agent who booked me on this trip," I said, reaching up to rub my brow but stopping when I hit my bandage. "Fine. But for reasons that will become obvious I'm going to ask, nay, I shall demand, that this doesn't leave the confines of this vehicle."

"Of course! How dare you suggest I don't know how a Zone of Truth works." Her smile was only a ghost of itself. "Talk to me, Bear."

"So, okay, things had been going along just fine, I guess. The facts that we didn't have a lot of common interests had been easy to ignore during the beginning, when all your stories are new again and sex is like opening presents on your birthday."

"Your parties as a kid must have been really cringy."

"If the peanut gallery is going to interrupt I'm down with skipping the retelling. Up to you."

Tish mimed locking her lips together and tossing away the key.

"So, anyway, for a while it was cool. She was stunning, sex was frequent and great, and we did a lot of laughing and little excursions new couples are supposed to do. We didn't have much as far as shared interests, though, and as time moved on that started to concern me a bit - what were we supposed to do together?" I paused, recalling some awkward moments. Why is it we always remember those? "She started talking about moving in together and I didn't see the logic in that. Became a bit of a recurring conversation."

"I'll bet. What else?"

I blew a raspberry. "Oh, she wanted me to take a week off to visit her hometown, meet her family, that sort of thing. For whatever reason it had to be on a specific week and that happened to be right before the awards show, and you know what that time is like for me." She nodded. "It was even worse because it was my first one as head writer and I wanted to light the lamp, knock it out of the park, and whatever other sports metaphors you'd care to apply. I was working twelve, fourteen hour days for a couple of months and even though I'd told her there was no way I could go, could she pick another time, she kept asking me over and over and over. Why was two weeks later not feasible?" I threw up my hands. "I don't know. I'd never get a straight answer from her when I asked. Anyway, the show goes off and I'm pretty happy with the results - I think my team and I did a good job. Given the stress I'd been dealing with any sort of vacation would have been great, but she'd stopped asking once the time she'd wanted to go had passed. Instead she calls me up the next morning -"

"She didn't go with you to the awards show? Did you ask her?"

"I asked, but she wasn't interested. She didn't like sports and certainly didn't want to spend a night at an event that was focused on them."

Tish shook her head. "She had to have had some idea how big a night it was for you."

My shoulders rose, fell. "I would think so, but I was okay with her not being there. One less thing to juggle."

"'Juggle?'"

"Maybe not the best choice of terms, but she wouldn't have known anyone." I sucked at my teeth. "I would have foisted her off on you but you weren't there."

Her eyes narrowed. "They don't invite the sales gang, even to be babysitters."

I held up my hands in a placating gesture. "Not saying you'd done something wrong, just that I wasn't too upset she wasn't there."

"You know that speaks volumes, right?"

"Uhm. It does, doesn't it? Hmm." I chewed on that for a bit. "Anyway, she called me the next morning and asked me to come by her place right after my class that night."

Tish wrinkled her nose. "Like, all sweaty and gross?"

"She did have a shower at her place, you know. Big enough for two, truth be told."

"That's a detail I could have lived without knowing, thanks."

I laughed. "You asked for the story."

"That doesn't mean I need to know about labial piercings or if she has 'fuck you' tattooed on the inside of her lower lip."

"Who would have that tatt-" I froze as Tish reached up and pulled her lower lip out. "You're kidding."

She made a noise and wiggled it before breaking up. "You are so gullible, Bear. One of the many things I love about you." She rumbled with laughter again. "I do know someone who has that tatt, though. She's an exotic dancer, flashes it at the no-tippers."

"Pretty certain Jess didn't have that, as it would have been put to use. So, I do as requested and show up at her apartment after class, let myself in. I was hoping she wanted to have sex but also figured maybe there was something else on the menu." I ran a hand through my hair. "Turns out I was right, but wrong about what my role was going to be."

"Oh. OH." Tish glanced at me as the light bulb flared to life. "Really?"

"Really. Bedroom door open, loud sex occuring." I grimaced. "In fact, she'd moved her bed so she could have a sight line and see when I showed up. Once it was obvious I could understand what was going on she starts yelling that she had to go find a real man because I'm terrible in bed and this is what it sounds like when she's actually getting pleasured, and so on." I paused, made a face. "I mean she sounded the same as when I was with her but what do I know?"

"That's... rough."

"You're not wrong," I said with a tight smile. "Her jumping out of bed to continue to berate me wasn't much better."

"You're kidding me." Her hand went to her mouth. "That's pretty vicious. Are you sure you haven't left something major out of this?"