Some Day One Day (Maylor AU)

Chapter 93

The professor coughed and waved his hand in front of his face, his appearance attracting the headmistress's attention and tugging at the corner of her lip.

"Jesus Christ, Chrissie," he muttered, daring to slip into the driver's seat—tossing the small box that had been left there into his wife's lap—and shutting the door. "I didn't mean that kind of cigarette."

"You should try it," she replied, extending the blunt out to him as he cracked open his window.

Brian turned his head and stared at the hand-rolled joint, his eyes flickering up to meet Chrissie's and wordlessly asking her if it was safe. She nodded her head and brought her hand out a little further, enticing the professor to take it into his possession. Even though he eventually did, he didn't immediately bring it to his lips. "Where'd you even get this?" he inquired, examining the white stick like he'd never seen anything like it before.

"'Confiscated it from Debbie and Dominique earlier this semester," the headmistress answered with a chuckle, toying with the clasp on the box. "I swear, those girls purposefully do the things they do, like they're on a mission to annoy me." She sat there for a bit, the smile on her face evolving into a frown. "I'm gonna miss them when they graduate, though," she pouted. "They keep me on my toes."

"That, they do," Brian agreed, finally taking a drag from the blunt. As expected, it sent him into a fit of coughs that his wife found hilarious. "Not...funny..." he choked out, unable to hold back the smile that crawled onto his face or the laughter that emanated from the back of his irritated throat. A few more puffs got him more acquainted, and soon the couple had slipped into unfamiliar states of relaxation—well, unfamiliar to Brian, at least.

"Why is this so complicated?" the headmistress blurted out, now lying down—both the driver's and passenger's seats reclined as far back as the car would allow and their occupants staring at the ceiling with their hands folded atop their stomachs. "Wouldn't it just be so much easier if we could just fuck whoever we wanted to fuck and have it not be a big deal?" The professor dropped his head to the side, trying to focus on her through the hazy world that consumed him. "Like, why is it necessary for us to be married to raise Liz?"

"She might not even be mine," Brian reminded her, his tone void of the emotion that previously enhanced it.

"So what?" Chrissie met his bloodshot gaze with her own. "You're the only one I want to raise her with, Brian. I don't care if you...if you love Roger. Just—" She reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a tight squeeze, "—just don't stop loving her, okay? She loves you, and I know you love her too."

"I do," the professor admitted with a hundred percent honesty. The headmistress flashed him a warm grin, relinquishing her hold of his hand and returning her attention to the ceiling. Brian looked up too and stole another puff from the joint balanced between his fingers, embracing the comfortable silence that blanketed over them before asking, "Hey, can I tell you something?"

"Sure," Chrissie hummed, plucking the blunt from his grasp and bringing it up to her lips.

"I was thinking of leaving tonight," he confessed, "you know, grabbing Roger and running off, but...I don't think I really want to leave." They both shifted their gazes back to one another. "I liked what I had, what we had, and I know you said we can't go back to the way things used to be, but...I think we can get back to something similar...if we really try, because I want to stay and be there for you, Chrissie, and for Liz, but I want to be able to be there for Roger too. Why can't I do it all? Why do I have to choose?"

The headmistress stared at him in deep thought before turning on her side to get more comfortable and resting her head in her hand. "I mean, Brian, you have to. Maybe in a different place and a different time you wouldn't, but...this is the '70s. If someone sees you with him...if someone finds out that you're...they're going to treat you differently, and I...I don't want that to happen." Chrissie took another drag and offered it to Brian, blowing the smoke out to the side. He shook his head in refusal, having had enough. His wife sighed before tossing the blunt to the car floor where she'd stashed the box and proposing, "What do you say we go to the show together tonight and figure this out tomorrow?" She laughed. "You know, when we're not high and thinking about being with other people."

Brian remained quiet, her answer to his questions playing over in his mind, getting louder and louder and becoming distorted, so much so that he almost didn't hear her ask, "Well?"

He snapped out of the daze he'd fallen into and nodded fervently. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Great." Chrissie smiled, heaving herself up with a grunt and kicking the car door open. "I'll go call your mum."

"Great," the professor repeated, watching her step out into the cold and make her way back inside, hugging herself for warmth the short trip there. He reached over the center console and grabbed the joint from the floor, flicking the ash off the still burning end, bringing the stick to his lips, and inhaling deeply.

He needed all the strength he could get for tonight.