Warren returns to his apartment and finds Bobbi is still there, for now anyway. He tries to say the right things.
Through his drug-hazed mind, Warren was even gladder that he'd taken Jean to a hotel initially, rather than the penthouse. Sometimes, he completely forgot that he'd given Bobbi a key, or that she had made herself quite at home there. If he was honest, he'd always enjoyed coming home after a late meeting, and seeing her on the couch, sometimes asleep, sometimes awake, sometimes naked ... well, it was a nice thing.
Going to the dog farm the day before -- that was nice too. And even though he had admitted to Felicia that he might be (and probably was) falling in love with Bobbi, there was still that large part of him that was rebelling against those feelings. Why would he want to be so domesticated? Forget that he probably was, for all intents and purposes. It's not like he was out every night like before, dropping small fortunes until he forgot his name.
Still.
Managing to make his way up, he wondered if Bobbi had actually gone through with her threat of leaving. He hoped she hadn't. "Are you there?" He walked through the penthouse, turning on all lights in his path. "Bobbi! I'm sort of sober and alone, just like you want so you don't have to be mad at me anymore."
She hadn't left yet, and, if she was being honest, she'd gone back and forth about whether she should or not. Bobbi was in the middle of packing an overnight bag when she heard Warren sing out to her. Her plan wasn't to move out completely, to never come back. It was to take a breather, to go somewhere else for a night or two. Or three.
Bag slung over her shoulder, she emerged from one of the penthouse's many rooms and looked in Warren's direction. Saying 'hi' or 'hey' felt awkward, hell, it all felt awkward, so she didn't say anything at first. He was telling the truth, at least about the alone part, which was something at least.
Before she could say anything, a little yip came from around the corner and their new pet Corgi, Ka-Zar, came running into view. He padded over to Bobbi, oblivious to the tension in the air and licking at her ankle until she bent down and picked him up.
Following the sound of the dog, Warren let out a sigh of relief when he saw Bobbi standing with Ka-Zar. A ridiculous name for a ridiculous pup, one that he'd definitely teased Bobbi over, but that was Bobbi -- she did what she wanted, and always did it in a way that made everyone else happy. He started to smile and then he saw the bag. "What, you're leaving? Seriously? Over this thing that I do all the time that's never bothered you ever before?"
"It's never been with... you know who before." Bobbi knew he was right, about this kind of thing never having been a problem before. But with Jean... she shook her head. She was mad at herself more than she cared to admit; had they ever explicitly talked about Jean, and how she was off-limits, she wondered? Bobbi could've sworn they had at first, but maybe not. Warren should've known though, shouldn't he?
"I... I just need to clear my head or something, that's all." Whatever it was, she was in no shape to talk to him about it of all people. Whether that was reasonable or not, well, Bobbi would worry about that later. Wherever the anger was coming from, and to whomever it should be directed, it was definitely still there and overwhelming her at the moment.
"But I didn't go through it! I mean, not like that demon --" He caught himself off. Did he tell her about that one? Did it matter if he thought he was never coming back?
From the look on her face, it was the wrong thing to say.
"Demon? What demon?" She stopped picking up things and put the dog back on the ground. Ka-Zar even seemed to turn his head to the side a little, staring at Warren along with her.
Shit. Even the dog was judging him. "No demon. Did I say demon? Never a demon, even if I was literally in Hell, thinking I'd never see you again so the rules didn't matter..."
"A fucking demon?" What the hell? Maybe in the literal Hell, even, but still. Bobbi's guilt meter, previously balanced precariously between blaming herself and Warren, veered sharply away from herself, the needle buried deep past the 'Warren' label now.
"Goddamnit, Warren!" She stormed back into their - no, his - bedroom and grabbed a few more things in a rougher-than-necessary fashion, jamming them into her bag while yelling back out at him. "You'll just fuck anything that moves, is that it?" Bobbi didn't know the whole story, but whose fault was that, exactly?
Fuck. Warren was making this worse, and on top of it all, he had a pounding headache now. "Not anything that moves!" Like a jell-o mold. He'd draw the line at that. Chasing after Bobbi (which was something he thought he'd never do in his life,) he ran his fingers through her hair. "Bobbi, don't do this. I don't fuck everything and you're my favourite fuck anyways. Like top 10. Easily."
She raised a hand up, touching his in her hair for a brief instant. Bobbi didn't want to fight, she hated this, hated feeling this angry and conflicted. It wasn't something that she could deal with right this instant, however, and not with Warren.
She pulled his hand away, gently but insistently. "I can't. Not right now, not like this. I'll..." Pulling away, she headed for the door as she tried to shape her thoughts into words. "I just need to go, ok?" She hesitated before adding the cliche phrase 'don't make this harder than it already is.' She also wanted to say it wouldn't be for long, but Bobbi didn't really know just how long she'd be gone, or, hell, even where she was going.
Warren looked at his hand stupidly, trying to process what exactly was happening. All he could really get was that she was gone. Going. Gone. Both the same thing. And he was left by himself and his thoughts.
Through his drug-hazed mind, Warren was even gladder that he'd taken Jean to a hotel initially, rather than the penthouse. Sometimes, he completely forgot that he'd given Bobbi a key, or that she had made herself quite at home there. If he was honest, he'd always enjoyed coming home after a late meeting, and seeing her on the couch, sometimes asleep, sometimes awake, sometimes naked ... well, it was a nice thing.
Going to the dog farm the day before -- that was nice too. And even though he had admitted to Felicia that he might be (and probably was) falling in love with Bobbi, there was still that large part of him that was rebelling against those feelings. Why would he want to be so domesticated? Forget that he probably was, for all intents and purposes. It's not like he was out every night like before, dropping small fortunes until he forgot his name.
Still.
Managing to make his way up, he wondered if Bobbi had actually gone through with her threat of leaving. He hoped she hadn't. "Are you there?" He walked through the penthouse, turning on all lights in his path. "Bobbi! I'm sort of sober and alone, just like you want so you don't have to be mad at me anymore."
She hadn't left yet, and, if she was being honest, she'd gone back and forth about whether she should or not. Bobbi was in the middle of packing an overnight bag when she heard Warren sing out to her. Her plan wasn't to move out completely, to never come back. It was to take a breather, to go somewhere else for a night or two. Or three.
Bag slung over her shoulder, she emerged from one of the penthouse's many rooms and looked in Warren's direction. Saying 'hi' or 'hey' felt awkward, hell, it all felt awkward, so she didn't say anything at first. He was telling the truth, at least about the alone part, which was something at least.
Before she could say anything, a little yip came from around the corner and their new pet Corgi, Ka-Zar, came running into view. He padded over to Bobbi, oblivious to the tension in the air and licking at her ankle until she bent down and picked him up.
Following the sound of the dog, Warren let out a sigh of relief when he saw Bobbi standing with Ka-Zar. A ridiculous name for a ridiculous pup, one that he'd definitely teased Bobbi over, but that was Bobbi -- she did what she wanted, and always did it in a way that made everyone else happy. He started to smile and then he saw the bag. "What, you're leaving? Seriously? Over this thing that I do all the time that's never bothered you ever before?"
"It's never been with... you know who before." Bobbi knew he was right, about this kind of thing never having been a problem before. But with Jean... she shook her head. She was mad at herself more than she cared to admit; had they ever explicitly talked about Jean, and how she was off-limits, she wondered? Bobbi could've sworn they had at first, but maybe not. Warren should've known though, shouldn't he?
"I... I just need to clear my head or something, that's all." Whatever it was, she was in no shape to talk to him about it of all people. Whether that was reasonable or not, well, Bobbi would worry about that later. Wherever the anger was coming from, and to whomever it should be directed, it was definitely still there and overwhelming her at the moment.
"But I didn't go through it! I mean, not like that demon --" He caught himself off. Did he tell her about that one? Did it matter if he thought he was never coming back?
From the look on her face, it was the wrong thing to say.
"Demon? What demon?" She stopped picking up things and put the dog back on the ground. Ka-Zar even seemed to turn his head to the side a little, staring at Warren along with her.
Shit. Even the dog was judging him. "No demon. Did I say demon? Never a demon, even if I was literally in Hell, thinking I'd never see you again so the rules didn't matter..."
"A fucking demon?" What the hell? Maybe in the literal Hell, even, but still. Bobbi's guilt meter, previously balanced precariously between blaming herself and Warren, veered sharply away from herself, the needle buried deep past the 'Warren' label now.
"Goddamnit, Warren!" She stormed back into their - no, his - bedroom and grabbed a few more things in a rougher-than-necessary fashion, jamming them into her bag while yelling back out at him. "You'll just fuck anything that moves, is that it?" Bobbi didn't know the whole story, but whose fault was that, exactly?
Fuck. Warren was making this worse, and on top of it all, he had a pounding headache now. "Not anything that moves!" Like a jell-o mold. He'd draw the line at that. Chasing after Bobbi (which was something he thought he'd never do in his life,) he ran his fingers through her hair. "Bobbi, don't do this. I don't fuck everything and you're my favourite fuck anyways. Like top 10. Easily."
She raised a hand up, touching his in her hair for a brief instant. Bobbi didn't want to fight, she hated this, hated feeling this angry and conflicted. It wasn't something that she could deal with right this instant, however, and not with Warren.
She pulled his hand away, gently but insistently. "I can't. Not right now, not like this. I'll..." Pulling away, she headed for the door as she tried to shape her thoughts into words. "I just need to go, ok?" She hesitated before adding the cliche phrase 'don't make this harder than it already is.' She also wanted to say it wouldn't be for long, but Bobbi didn't really know just how long she'd be gone, or, hell, even where she was going.
Warren looked at his hand stupidly, trying to process what exactly was happening. All he could really get was that she was gone. Going. Gone. Both the same thing. And he was left by himself and his thoughts.