Across the Pond

Sydney

I. Wat's Wrong.

I groaned unhappily and clutched my lower stomach while lying on the stiff wooden bench that was doing a sucky job at pretending to be comfortable.

C'mon Motrin, kick in already.

My shift was starting in eleven minutes and I could barely bring myself to sit up, let alone go stand on my feet for six hours. I silently cursed my stubborn sense of responsibility when the pocket of my apron starting vibrating against the top of my thighs. Pulling out my phone I made the giddiest dumbass face at the sight of Max's contact picture and momentarily forgot the pain I was in when I answered. "Boss, you better not still be at the office."

"Diving straight into nagging without a hello first?" The unmistakable affection in his voice made me miss him like crazy. More so. "Couldn't be helped sweet girl, I do have a company to run after all."

"Whatever, don't think coming home at ten every night is gonna fly when I get back over there."

"You know I've already taken steps to curtail my long days in preparation for your arrival, better to put in the extra hours while you're away. Besides, I took Poppy-Jacqueline to tea this afternoon and it was a three-hour affair -- not that I mind, of course. I'd clear my whole week for my precious niece. How is my wife this evening?"

My wife

. I would never get tired of hearing him call me that. "Hating my life and everything in it. You excluded of course."

"What's the matter? And where are you? I hear an echo."

"In the locker room at Antonio's." I gripped the phone when another pain shot through me like a rocket of

ouch

. "Be glad I left when I did, my period just started and I'm

dying

. It feels like I'm being gutted with a machete."

"My apologies to you and your uterus. I hear the shedding of its lining is most unpleasant."

"Ha! Gross."

"Simply nature, sweet girl. Why aren't you at home resting?"

"Because I got bills, yo. We can't all be independently wealthy, Holland."

"But you are aware you're married to a man who is independently wealthy, Mrs. James-Holland?" I laughed and groaned when I started cramping again. "Goodness gracious Sydney,

go home

."

His forceful tone was suddenly incredibly irritating, probably because I was in pain and cranky. "Quit telling me what to do, it's bugging the shit out of me."

"...alright. Ring when you get home."

I hung up and checked the time: eight minutes until I had to be on the floor. I laid the phone on my chest and closed my eyes, figuring I'd get at least five minutes of rest. I focused on the chill of the room, the hum of the fluorescent lights, anything but the fucking monthly reminder that I'm not pregnant. Not that I would have been, or had any business thinking about it at all, but...

I forced my brain to shut down that thought before I got too sad about it and that was about the time I heard the door click open. "You okay, Syd?"

I opened one eye and turned my head to Tony leaning against the doorframe, wearing his ridiculous red silk shirt that, for some odd reason, had the chicks lining up to get at him. "I'd be better if people would quit bothering me."

He smiled, completely immune to my bitchiness. "Well lucky for you Iliana wants to come in and pick up a shift, so go home."

I sat up carefully, resting my forearms on my knees while I searched his face for a tell. "I call bullshit, Iliana never wants to pick up shifts."

"Consider it a gift from God, then." The right corner of his mouth twitched. There it was.

"God, or Holland?" He awkwardly scratched his goatee and avoided looking at my face. "Damnit Tony, seriously? You just roll over and show him your balls whenever he tells you to do something?"

"Yeah Syd, it's called being a good employee. Try it sometime." He shook his head and I started feeling a little bad giving him shit. "Look, you're obviously not feeling well, go rest up so you can come in to terrorize me for your next four shifts, okay? Now get out of here."

"Ugh. Fine." Standing on shaky legs I was grateful that at least the pills started to kick in, that way I could make it to my Porsche without keeling over. I went to walk out but stopped to give Tony a hug first. "You're a great boss. It's

your

boss that blows."

He did that boisterously exaggerated Italian laugh that always makes me crack up. "Yeah, well, you married him. Congrats by the way, I guess that technically makes you my boss too."

"Ooh. Does that mean I can tell you what to do?"

"Only when you start signing my checks." He gave me a friendly kiss on the head before I headed out the door. I grabbed my phone and pushed the number two on speed dial. "You suck," I said when he picked up.

"I love you too," Max said with laughter in his voice before hanging up.

I got in the car, buckled up and took off in the direction of home. I thought about stopping off at my parents first, but it wasn't like they were exactly talking to me anyway and I was in enough pain as it was. I started to let the sadness sink in a little before I shook myself out of it and resolved to go talk to them that weekend instead. I needed a clear head and to not be doubled over in agony if I was going to convince them getting married to Holland was a good thing. The best thing, really. A quick stop off at the diner for a double order of the Rose Special was much more appealing at that moment.

20 minutes later I struggled to get my door open with all the bags I was carrying, 'cause I'm a fat ass glutton total food slut. With a grunt I got the knob turned and I fell through the doorway of my condo, dumping the bags before tossing my keys into the turquoise, turtle-shaped catch all. It wasn't until I looked up that I realized I wasn't the only one in the house. "Motherfucker!" I screamed in surprise.

"I can't

believe

you got me in here throwing my own welcome back party." Cramps forgotten I ran over to where Colin was standing and threw my entire body around him in a hug that knocked the wind out of him. "Damn girl, you miss me that much?"

"You know I did, asshole." I took a whiff of lingering menthol smoke and black soap, my best boy's signature scent. "How were the withdrawals this time?"

"Same as last time. Aches, pains, general feeling of worthlessness. At least I didn't completely fuck up my life this time so that's something. I missed you too, but you didn't miss my ass that much to not get married while I was in rehab. Bitch. I'm eating your gelato."

"Nooo, don't! I'm sorry!" I held onto the back of his shirt when he started dragging me into the kitchen, both of us falling onto the floor in a heap of giggles and hugs.

***

II. Hello Ego.

"Man Syd, I'm gonna miss doing this. Who else is gonna put up with your moody ass every month?"

"Oh, I don't know. Who else is going to eat all my food and smoke all my weed? Are you supposed to be smoking anyway?"

"Hey, I need to be stoned to be...sober? Something like that." Colin threw a pretzel at my boobs and I laughed before grabbing the joint from the ashtray, taking a long drag. Four in the morning and we were fully immersed in our "Sydney's Uterus Sucks Ass" tradition we'd had almost each month for the past couple years. Pot had been smoked, food had been inhaled and the gabbing had been almost nonstop since I got home. "So what's it like being married, Mrs. Darcy?"

I shrugged, letting the spoonful of chocolate chip cookie dough roll around on my taste buds while I searched my brain for a response. "I don't think it's really hit me yet. I've only been married for, what, six days? The whole thing is kind of nuts."

"Yeah, no shit. You've only known each other for like, two and a half months; but I guess when you know you know. You know I gotta ask, how's the sex?" He asked, taking a big toke and holding it in. I unconsciously crossed my legs and squeezed my thighs shut and he choked out a cloud of smoke. "Seriously?"

I giggled loudly, lightheaded from the drugs and memories of being with Max flooding my mind in a heated wave. "I mean, it's like.... like he's a different person when we're alone. Like, everyone else sees the uptight, no-nonsense business man but with me, he's this wild child with badass tattoos and a huge dick he definitely knows how to use. Often. The man in a walking Cialis commercial."

"Wait, how huge are we talking?" He held out two fingers a moderate space apart and I pushed one of his hands over about three more inches. "Fuck! How are you even walking?"

I smacked him on the arm then had a sobering thought. "I'm not gonna be able to do this in London, getting fucked up at four in the morning. I'm gonna have to change, won't I?"

Colin played with the edge of the couch arm as he thought. "I mean, yeah, probably. He's a big deal over there, right? You're gonna have to clean it up when you start hobnobbing with

proper society

," he emphasized with an embellished accent and his fingers splayed on his chest.

I snatched my phone off the coffee table with an overwhelming sudden need to talk to Max. I pressed his speed dial number and he picked up after a couple of rings. "Yes, Sydney," he answered briskly.

"Are you expecting me to be a different person in London?"

"...I'm sorry?"

"Am I gonna have to start going to high teas and luncheons with snobby, upper crust women so you can keep up appearances? Like, I'm not gonna be able to cuss like a sailor and wear the tight shorts anymore, right? I'm sitting here smoking pot with Colin and I just realized I'm not gonna be

me

anymore because now I'm

your

wife and I'm gonna have to be appropriate and boring. Doesn't that bother you at all?" I couldn't stop the verbal diarrhea from pouring out, not even being swayed by Colin cracking up so hard tears started rolling down his cheeks. "Well? Does it bug you that your degenerate wife is smoking doobies at four in the morning?"

"Ah, I am more concerned that in doing so you've seemed to have lost the ability to calculate the time difference."

It took me a minute to figure out what he was talking about; but when it hit, boy did it. "It's nine there. You're at work."

"Yes."

"And by the sound of your voice I'm guessing you're in a meeting."

"Also, yes. Would it be possible to table this discussion until this evening?"

"Fuck. I mean, shit! I mean -" I hung up and fumbled the phone across the table onto the armchair when it started ringing back. Colin, in all his assistance, fell off the couch during his laughing fit. "Damnit, I can't fucking do this. I'm gonna embarrass the shit out of him and he's gonna get kicked out of Europe."

"Jesus Syd,

stop

," he said, trying to catch his breath. "Look, yeah, you're gonna have to change; it's called growing up from what I hear and that's not a bad thing. And think of it this way: Holland threw you a fairytale wedding in one day 'cause he wanted to marry you that badly. He wouldn't have done that if he wasn't completely in love with you, so chill the fuck out."

His own phone buzzed in his shirt pocket and I watched him dig it out, raising his eyebrows at whomever it was before picking up. "Hello?" I heard murmuring on the other line before he laughed again. "Yeah, she's fine, she's just stoned. Yep...you got it, boss." He hung up and stood, holding his hand out to help me off the couch. "Party's over babe, you gotta go to bed. Darcy's orders."

I pouted but put my hand in his, him pulling me up with a dramatic grunt. "I'm so sick of him telling other people to make me do stuff."

"Yeah well, I'm already on thin ice and I'm not tryin' to go back to trickin' on the streets. I'll crash on the couch until the buzz wears off." He scratched his abs underneath his shirt with a groan. "I think I get it why you married him now. I'm a little hard having him bossing me around."

"Well when he divorces my crazy ass you're welcome to him." We stared at each other before dissolving into giggles, heading down the hallway to get some much-needed rest.

***

III. Rush Hour.

The shrill ringtone of my iPhone cut through my sleep fog like a chef's knife. I patted my hand down the bed trying to find it and when I did I didn't even bother opening my eyes to see who it was. "I'm sleeping, go die please thanks," I mumbled drowsily when I picked up.

"That's unfortunate, I was really looking forward to seeing you. My impending demise might hinder that slightly." Max teased in a tender tone. I rolled over on my back and tried to wake up. "Feeling better after your rest, wife of mine?"

I sighed. He sounded calm. Too calm.

Calm before the storm

kind of calm. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have called you like that. How pissed off are you?"

"I'm not angry, I only ask you try to be a bit more considerate in the future. Now tell me what has you so upset."

Pushing my bangs back I tried to cut through the lingering haze in my brain. "You got divorced and remarried to a bartender, people probably think I'm a gold-digger. I'm not going to fit in with all your fancy friends. I don't know if I can do the whole society wife thing and I don't want to pretend, I don't want to not be

me

anymore. I'm not perfect, but I like me."

"Sydney, my goodness. How long have these thoughts been weighing on your mind? They couldn't have only manifested last night." I didn't have an answer for him. "My love, I don't want you to feel as if I will be molding you into anyone. I love

you

, every aspect of your being. Yes, there will be times when you may be required to tone down the profanity: that has to do with social decorum, not who you are as a person. Why are you so convinced you're unworthy of me when I'm clearly the one unworthy of you?"

I was acting like a nutjob, unsure and self-conscious and I needed to dial it back before I freaked him out. I tried to swallow down any instability in my voice. "I'm sorry. It's probably just hormones."

"Hormones aside, you have to give me your mind as freely as you do your body,

especially

when we're apart. In an offer at full disclosure, I'm afraid too. I'm afraid one morning you'll wake up and realize you've made a mistake and leave. That my love for you won't be enough. That one day you'll realize you never loved me in the first place."

"Max, I would

never

-- "

"I know sweet girl, I know," he chuckled kindly in my ear. "You and I aren't so different, and fear is natural. But I want to know your thoughts, even if they're riddled in distress. You cannot keep parts of yourself from me in an attempt at self-preservation. We'll never work if you do."

"Aww, that was sweet. Now I just feel like an asshole."

"Then my husbandly duty is complete. Are you positive you're feeling better?"

I shifted, bringing my left arm over my eyes to block out the waning sunlight. "Yeah. I wish you were here."

"I will be in a few days, and I'll take very good care of my little one," he promised. "Now, I do believe it is time for you to prepare for your shift."

I lifted the phone away from my ear and looked at the time: sure enough, I had about half an hour before I had to leave. "But I don't want to stop talking to you. I can be a little late."

"Absolutely not wicked girl, you have to uphold the Holland name!" I smirked at his regal tone, loving the silliness that was coming from him so much easier now. "I love you, ring me tonight when you return home."

"Love you too, Boss." I hung up and rolled back over until my phone rang again and I picked up. "Hello."

"Get out of bed and go to work, love," Max commanded with a laugh before hanging up again. The man knew me all too well.

***

IV: Tennessee.

After my shower Max called back while I was getting dressed and we talked from my condo to the car to work. I told him to go to bed but he'd been embarking his journey into Supernatural while I'd been gone. It wasn't going very well. "You're not even giving it a chance!"

"I've given it several chances, little one. This whole plotline is absurd."

"

You're

absurd, and I will not have you picking on Dean when he is going to selflessly die for Sam."

"Selfless. My. Arse." I shoved the container of limes back in its place in the well while my husband grumbled on the other line. "He's only doing it to avoid killing Sam should he turn evil because he's scared witless -- or because he's tired of the hunter lifestyle. Either way, the mere fact he's claiming to do so to save his brother when he would effectively be leaving Sam to be found and murdered in less than six months speaks volumes of his character. Honestly, this show is ridiculous. The only one with any sense is that Bobby bloke."

"Then you're really gonna hate season seven," I muttered by accident under my breath.

"...wait a moment. Does something happen to Bobby?" I pursed my lips with an attitude and ignored his question. I know spoilers are a no-no but it slipped out. "Sydney, what happens to Bobby?"

Welp, cat was out of the back anyway. "Let's just say that the word "idjit" is gonna be ruined for you."

"Goddamnit!" I couldn't help but laugh hard. "If I experience restless sleep over this you'll have to pacify me in the dirtiest of fashions."

"Um, I'll delegate that task to Vincent since I'll probably be working most nights, minus the dirty because the bunny doesn't swing that way. But I'll be happy to pacify you with plenty of afternoon delight," I offered with a suggestive waggle of my eyebrows, even if he couldn't see me.

Max took a moment to clear his throat. "Are you to continue bartending, then?"

"Well yeah, I need to do something. A bored Sydney is a Sydney that gets into way too much trouble." I tapped my pen against my inventory clipboard when he went quiet. "That's not a problem, is it? Me working?"

"Ah, not a problem, though I humbly suggest seeking employment that takes place during the day instead. I've spent enough nights away from you as it is."

I didn't miss the tinge of unrequited lust in his request but his suggestion still made me feel a little uneasy. "I don't know if I'm cut out for an office gig. Doesn't the job market over there suck anyway?"

"No more than in the States. I could find you a place in my building, then your "afternoon delight" would be much easier to carry out."

I thought about it for a half a second. "I don't think that would be a good idea, me working for you."

"You work with me now with no problems."

"Um, we've had

several

problems, and can you really classify me as working half the time?"

"That is true, you are quite lazy." It was then Colin stormed in looking like he was about to pop a blood vessel in his eye. I waved at him and he flicked me off. "Hey Boss, Cokey Smurf is here looking

super

happy to have been knocked down to working on a Thursday Night."

"He should be happy he's employed at all, do your best to remind him so. Speaking of which, go to it. We'll discuss this later."

I rolled my eyes. This was going to be one of those things he wasn't going to let go. "Fine. I love you."

"And I you, little one." I hung up and shoved my phone into the back pocket of my black jeans, turning to my annoyed friend who was looking all cute even though he was pissy. "And what would be crawling up your butt this evening?"

Colin grunted and slammed a beer mug down on the counter. "Nothing, and that's the problem. I met up with this gorgeous little twink who offered up poppers and a porn dick but one mention of being in rehab and poof! Shriveled up like a raisin."

I stared at him like he was nuts, because he was. "Seriously? You're cranky because you didn't get laid?"

"Fuck you Syd. Not everyone is fortunate enough to screw their boss."