Television Romance

Cowboy's Return

INT. BULLPEN - NIGHT

The brownies were very good. Dangerously good, Vian's mother would say. Vian was modified to learn the after-party was far from a rager. A couple of hours in, people were littered in pairs or trios all around the Bullpen, engaged in a specific type of casual conversation one could only have with people who went through the same weekly fiasco. A few people were passed out on the couch, though that could just as easily be fatigue as overindulgence. That was the secret, wasn't it? Being tired and high of a live performance was almost the same as being tipsy anyway.

"I just realized I never see you drink. Do you drink?" Juliet said, chewing her gum emphatically. She looked a little tipsy herself to Vian. To be fair though, Juliet tipsy wasn't that different from Juliet sober. She had the same vibrancy. Her world just existed in a higher level of saturation.

"I'm drinking," Vian said, entertained by her friend's slight wobbling. Bill, as always, was there to catch her. He wrapped an arm around the waist of her black jeans.

"Why don't we leave this nice lady alone?" he asked Juliet.

"Are you pregnant?" Juliet pressed Vian in an incredibly loud whisper, "I won't tell anybody." She tugged at the bottom of her grey top and looked suspiciously from side to side for potential eavesdroppers.

"Sorry, she's not even really drunk. She just doesn't like Valentine's Day. Or her birthday. Or Christmas," Bill explained. He had a beer in his free hand. Juliet ignored him, waving a hand in his face.

"I'm enjoying the show," Vian laughed.

"We gotta go find Hugo, tell him his sketch deserved better," Bill said.

"I don't think he cares, honestly." In the background, a slow love song started playing.

"Yeah, but we do it anyway. Hey, we had a good time talking to Ri--"

"Bill!" Juliet said, turning up to look at him.

"Yes, Jules?"

"We have to dance."

"I'm going to go ahead and say 'no' to that proposition."

"Cmon, don't be a dork." She twisted out of his grip and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I can't help it," he smiled, "It comes naturally."

"Oh, you're no fun." Juliet slid her arms off Bill and onto the other girl. They swayed for a while, laughing a lot more than dancing. Around the Bullpen a few other people were dancing as well, all equally terrible. Juliet spun Vian around and they feigned a dip.

"Where did Jerry go?" Vian asked.

"With Sadie," Bill said. Traitor, Vian thought happily. Juliet broke away from her dancing partner.

"This has been the weirdest week," she announced, continuing her streak of ignoring the context in which she entered a conversation.

"There was a fight. Uncle Sam lost his car. Bill knows everything. Hugo got a sketch in. It's a Valentine's miracle," she continued, punctuating every sentence with a penguin clap. Then she put a hand around Bill's beer bottle.

"I think you've had enough," said Bill, peeling her fingers off the bottle.

"And you don't hate Michael anymore!" She gestured in front of her to where, speak of the devil, Michael was walking toward them

"Jay! Looking hot." Michael winked before turning his head to Bill.

"'Sup cowboy." Then he was gone again. In an instant, Bill was as still and cold as a statue.

"I'm going to say that the last one is scratched," Vian guessed aloud.

Juliet giggled.

"And I didn't even have to pay him for that one."