xp_logs | Log: Can You Hear Me? Bobby and Terry, Sept 26.

Tuesday night, Terry tells Bobby about her impromptu open mic performance, and he gives her encouragement like a good husband.

It was still kind of weird, having a space that was all their own. Weird in a good way, though, in a "I can sit on the couch in boxers and eat ice cream while watching the Matrix" kind of way, which was exactly what Bobby was doing right then, his own version of fudge ripple, with broken up shortbread mixed in, in a large bowl on his lap and Keanu with lots of guns on the TV screen.

Terry bounced in just as Trinity and Neo stepped into the elevator and dropped her school bags on the floor. They didn't have much in the way of furniture yet, that was on the many lists of things that she was figuring out. Also on that list: wedding rings, wedding gowns, registries, location (mass), location (reception), location (honeymoon). "Hi, love." She jumped over one of the as yet unpacked boxes and stopped behind him of him, bending over and bracing herself on the back of the sofa so she could give him a kiss. "Have a good day?"

It was a sweet, ice creamy kiss, but Bobby didn't let that stop them. "Mmhmm. Other than the fact that I think someone's been feeding the students way too much sugar," he commented, then glanced down at his lap and grinned. "No idea who could be contributing to that." He set the ice cream aside, in favor of having a lapful of Terry, and tugged her arm to get her to move around the side of the couch. "How about you? Get over here and tell me all about it."

Terry snuggled into his lap and stole another kiss, tasting fudge and the mint of her gum. "I walked out on my class tonight. More of that stupid 'girls can't play ball, they're icky' from the teacher." She made a face even as she lifted a spoonful of ice cream to her mouth and nibbled at it. Her mood was momentary and cheered almost immediately "So, I took a walk instead. You'll never guess what happened."

Bobby wrinkled his nose. "...You were tied up and forced to smoke a pack of cigarettes all at once?" he hazarded as the smell of tobacco smoke accompanied her onto his lap.

"Huh?" She grabbed a handful of hair and pulled it around in front of her, sniffing. "Oh, ew. Crap, I hope this doesn't happen all the time." She flicked her hair back over her shoulder again and stripped out of her jacket and sweater, leaving on her tank top. "Sorry, the owner smokes, I'll go shower in a minute. I didn't realize it would stick like that. See, I was walking down, um, whatever that street is, it's off Broadway, and I ran across this open mic night."

Bobby forgot about the smoke and arched an eyebrow. "Open mic? Like, performing and stuff?" He grinned, rubbing his hands along her bare arms. "Did ya sing?"

She nodded, gleeful. "I was so nervous but it was so much fun! It's not at all my usual music though." Terry lifted one hand and threaded into his hair as she related the story of how she'd wandered into the club more out of curiosity than anything else. And how coming off the stage, the owner had told her that he wanted her to come back again. "As a regular performer. Not just for the open mics but on Friday for a whole set." Nerves crept in again as she finished up, her blue eyes wide.

Bobby's eyes were nearly as wide as hers. "Singing in a club? Seriously?" He broke into a wide grin, hugging her tightly. "That's fantastic, hon! And don't worry about the music--I'll help you find some songs," he added automatically, already mentally flipping through the various jazz songs on his iPod, making a list of songs that would sound the best with Terry's voice--not that Bobby could ever be convince that any of them would sound bad.

"I've never done anything like this. You really think I should do it?" Terry bit her lower lip, considering all the things that would have to be done in the next three days to actually pull this off. "Jazz...I don't usually sing jazz. This was just a whim, really. What if I can't pull off a whole set? What if the band decides I suck? What if everyone thinks I suck?"

"They won't," Bobby reassured her firmly, gripping her shoulders. "And no matter what happens, there'll be one member of the audience that thinks you're amazing." He kissed her lightly, then amended to, "That knows you're amazing." He looked Terry in the eyes solemnly. "You can do this."

Terry smiled at him adoringly, "You would tell me that if I wanted to anything." She snuggled down against him, "I guess I can. It's just one week, right? I mean, it's not like this is going to be something I'll do forever. I'll just have fun with it." She was definitely just trying to reassure herself but it seemed to work a bit.

Bobby grinned, nodding. "Absolutely," he agreed, nuzzling her cheek. "There's no pressure. And hey, you're a good performer, you're talented, you're beautiful, and I guarantee they'll love you. And if you hate it, don't do it again."

"I didn't hate it. I really had fun." She pulled back just enough to look at him, "I'm just afraid that I won't be any good at it. I know I can sing but lots of people can sing. I'm not like Jay and Alison. They have presence." And it was jazz. That was the hardest part. She could mess up so easily singing jazz.

That drew a snort from her husband. "You've got presence, baby. Believe me." He gave her a soft, lingering kiss, stroking a thumb along her cheekbone. "You'll wow 'em all, I guarantee it," he whispered against her lips.

She smiled and kissed him softly. "I'm going to hold you to that. What do I get if I fail to wow them?" she teased quietly, "What's behind your guarantee?"

Bobby had to think about it for a minute--he hadn't planned on a counter-offer, after all. He was confident enough that she would shine, though. "...If you fail to wow them...I will sing at their next open mic. You get to pick the song." It was a vaguely terrifying thought. She'd better wow them, now.

That made her giggle, envisioning Bobby on stage at Immerse. Her mind supplied a Frank Sinatra number that she wasn't sure was actually jazzy but was too entertaining to pass up. "Okay, I think that's a fair deal. I should probably be motivated to avoid public humiliation for my husband, right?"

"You'd better!" Bobby eyed her suspiciously all of the sudden. "If I suspect you're taking a dive just to make me sing, I reserve the right to tickle you until you wet your pants."

Terry affected a shocked and offended expression, "Bobby, sure you don't think that I would ever dream of doing that to you?" Particularly not after that threat. Where did he come up with these things? She switched to a pout, dropping her chin so she could look at him through her lashes, "You wouldn't really do that to me, would you?"

Not when she was looking at him like that! "Uh...no, probably not." He grinned and kissed her lingeringly, stroking her hair, unable to resist those eyes.

Happy now, with fears eased, she melted into the kiss, drawing it out and just enjoying the certainty of having him there for her no matter what happened. Stupid professors aside, this was exactly how days should be. "Do you know how much I love you?" she asked him softly.

"Just slightly less than I love you," Bobby responded confidently, rubbing noses with her. He hugged her tight and then grinned, tapping her on the tip of the nose with his finger. "Now go get that smoke out of your hair and then I'll brush it for you."

"Oooh," she practically purred at him and wriggled off his lap. "That's a bargain, right enough." She gathered up her discarded clothing to drop in the hamper. "Do we have anything to eat? I grabbed a candy bar at school but I was running late and missed haven't any dinner."

"I had spaghetti," Bobby replied, getting up to put away the rest of the ice cream, absently refreezing it as he picked up the bowl. "Want me to boil some noodles while you shower, then you can eat while I brush?"

"Would you?" She smiled gratefully, not yet settled enough in the idea of living with someone to take even a simple meal for granted. Sweater and jacket dealt with, she dashed back to him and gave him a kiss. "Thank you. I won't take long."

"Anything for my lovely wife," Bobby told her back as he headed for the kitchen, grinning. It was still a novelty to use that word, and he did it as much as he could, whenever they were alone. And mangled it in Irish, whenever they weren't.

Just hearing it put a lightness into her step. No matter how many people told them it was a mistake, Terry wouldn't have changed their sudden marriage for the world. She skipped off to the shower, humming happily.