Some Day One Day (Maylor AU)

Chapter 21

"Brian?"

"H-Hi, Mary," the professor stammered nervously, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket and swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet, "Is Freddie home?"

His ex-girlfriend folded her arms over her chest and straightened her posture. "No, he's not. Sorry."

Brian waited for her to elaborate and disclose where he is. However, Mary remained silent, glaring at the tall man before her with the resentment that's managed to last all these years. He didn't understand why she was still so bitter. Aside from the white lie he told her about moving to America, he assumed that the two had parted ways amicably, for she hadn't given him reason to believe any different. So, uncomfortably bringing a hand to the back of his neck, he asked, "Well, would you mind telling me where he is, then?"

"What's it worth to you?"

The professor gritted his teeth, his frustration with Mary growing more with each passing second spent on the couple's doorstep. "He and I have some catching up to do," Brian answered as friendly as he could manage, even throwing on a small grin as he added, "It's been a while since he and I talked, and I wanted to show him a picture of my daughter." He pulled out the wallet-size photograph and showed it to Mary. "Her name's Liz. She's just a few months old, born in August."

"Oh my god," Mary gasped, snatching the picture of the infant out of the father's hands to get a closer look at it. She melted at the sight of the baby girl, wishing she had one of her own. "She's adorable, Brian," the blonde gushed dreamily, "I've been trying to convince Freddie we should have one, but he always shuts the conversation down."

"Strange," the professor commented, his foot starting to tap the ground anxiously.

Mary sighed and handed the picture back to her ex-boyfriend, saying, "Yeah, I don't know why, but he always gets so...so weird when I bring it up. It's like he doesn't want to even think about it."

"Maybe he's not ready to have kids," Brian entertained her concern, slipping the photograph back into his wallet.

"Maybe," she mumbled, pouting her lips and twirling a piece of her hair around her finger dejectedly. Brian shifted awkwardly, jumping when Mary took in a sharp breath and clutched his upper arms. "What if you talked to him about it? About being a father?" she suggested, her grip on him tightening and her eyes glimmering with newfound hope, "Maybe you could change his mind!"

The professor uneasily chuckled and gently pried her away from him. "You know what, Mary? I-I think I—" His voice was cut off, robbed by the realization of the opportunity Mary had presented him with and replaced with a small, appreciative grin. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. I will. I just don't know where he is to do that."

"Oh, he's at Kensington Market," the blonde readily revealed, a stark contrast from the cold shoulder she was giving the professor just minutes ago. "Just listen for his voice and you'll know where his shop is. It's really hard to miss."

Brian nodded his head. "Got it."

"And don't tell him that I told you to talk to him about it, okay? Because if he knows I asked you to, he'll probably shut down again and—"

"I won't, Mary. Don't worry."

"Oh, good," she smiled, clasping her hands together excitedly.

"Well, it was nice seeing you again, Mary," the professor told her, backing away from the door, "Take care, will you?"

"Yes, and you take care of that beautiful baby of yours!" she called out to him, the corner of the professor's lip twitching upward into a smirk as he retreated to his running car.

Thanks to Mary's advice, it took Brian no time at all in finding Freddie at the Market—the dark-haired man's voice drawing him to the shop where he was arguing with two security personnel.

"For the last time, I didn't do it!" he cried, stomping his foot for added effect. "Roger did, and I'm not about to mess with them! He spent hours adjusting them, and he'll kill me if they're moved even a hair!"

"Look, Freddie, this is the fifth complaint we've received this month," the short, stout guard explained, swollen hands steady on his holster, "If you don't fix those mirrors, we're going to have to shut you down. Owner's orders."

He scoffed. "How many times do I have to fucking tell you—" He stopped himself short when the professor stepped into the shop, looking the same as he did the first time Freddie saw him. "Brian!" the dark-haired man squealed, pushing through the pair of cops and charging towards him to squeeze him tight, "My god, I haven't seen you in ages! What are you doing here?"

The slender, tall guard cleared his throat, regaining the annoyed shop owner's attention.

"I know!" Freddie snapped, "Fix the fucking mirrors! You tell me every goddamn week!"

The two cops exchanged a quick, exhausted look before trudging out of the stall filled with eccentric clothes—the most recent additions coming from Roger's closet—and glaring at the dark-haired man who retaliated by sticking his tongue out at them. Once they were out of sight, Freddie apologized to Brian and invited him in, sitting him down in one of the vintage armchairs set outside the problematic fitting rooms.

"Is everything okay?" the professor asked worriedly.

"Oh, yes," Freddie assured him, waltzing over to the counter, "Those bastards just like to get on my nerves. If they really wanted me out, I wouldn't still be here." He slammed his hands down and flashed Brian his most brilliant smile. "But enough about me, what about you? What brings you to my home away from hell? Did you finally decide it's time to get rid of that drab style of yours?"

Brian's eyebrows furrowed together. "Uh, no, I-I actually came here to talk to you about something."

"If it's about Roger, I haven't heard from him in a couple weeks," the dark-haired man revealed, leaning against the counter and lighting a cigarette he pulled out from beneath the cash register—the machine relatively light in weight.

The professor's cheeks turned red at the mention of the former music instructor's name. "Actually, I...I came here to talk with you about what happened at the bar."