In Which Spencer Cannot Match Ryan Drink For Drink, Bob Demands Answers, And Victoria Is Enigmatic
Ryan takes one look at Spencer's woebegone face as he says, "Nothing, really, I'm fine," to Ryan's concerned query, and replies, "Yeah, no. Not buying it. Come on, we're going out."
'Out' seems to refer to a bar nearer the foundries that their neighborhood, an establishment Brendon actually doesn't own.
Ryan's not a chatty guy and Spencer's not about to say anything right now, for fear of what would slip out, so they finish their first drinks in silence.
"Seriously, though," Ryan says, halfway finished with his second drink, completely conversationally, as if he's just picking up after a moment's silence, "You've been twitchy all week, don't think I'm the only one who noticed. Bob, too."
"Bob noticed," Spencer asks, a little faintly. He feels pathetic, but he's got to know. "Did he say anything?"
"No, I mean, I'm assuming he knows something's up, it's pretty obvious, but what I meant was that he's been weird, too."
Spencer thinks about that as Ryan signals to the bartender for another round, and huh, he supposes something has been a little off about Bob lately. He's been too caught up in his own drama to notice, really.
"What do you think that's about," he asks Ryan, because Bob's problem seems a lot more pressing to Spencer. Whatever it is.
"That's what I'm trying to find out," Ryan says, and yeah, his voice is patient, but he's still sort of getting on Spencer's nerves. He laughs and it comes out a little sharp, a little cold.
"You really don't want to know."
Ryan just looks back at him, steadily, and yeah, they're friends now, but that stare is a bit unnerving. Spencer laughs again, but this time it's a nervous sound as he pushes his hand back through his hair.
"I'm not even sure I even know what's going on in my head right now, never mind if I can explain it."
"Try," Ryan says without letting the intensity of his stare ease down one bit.
Spencer glares moodily into his glass for a moment before taking a long pull from it, still trying to sort through his thoughts in order to present them in a way that at least kind of makes sense.
Maybe talking to Ryan about it won't be such a bad thing--Ryan's a smart guy, and trying to work things out hasn't been very helpful at all. He takes a breath and begins.
"Have you ever--and probably not, I get that, you're practically married, but have you ever looked at someone else? Besides, well, Brendon, in your case. Not just looked and noticed 'oh, they're hot,' but looked and though, 'that person is really cool and really attractive and I really wouldn't mind spending more time with them'?"
"Not really," Ryan says, voice even, but eyes looking a little panicked, and Spencer wants to yell at him 'well, you asked?' but he's kind of ashamed of himself for answering anyway, especially knowing he's going to keep going. Once you get Spencer started, it's a lot harder to get him to stop.
"Good for you. Really. I'm glad, because this really sucks, I wouldn't wish it on you. I love Bob, you know? I really do. And not just because he was my ticket out of the life I couldn't stand and he's the reason I've seen the world and my favorite person to spend time with, but for some reason I still can't help thinking--"
"--Spencer," Ryan says, and huh, Spencer can't be the only one the alcohol's starting to get to this time, because Ryan obviously thinks he's pointing that bony finger directly at Spencer, but he's really sort of listing to the side. He starts in, heartwarmingly earnest, "Spence. I'm telling you as a friend, because you are a friend, stop thinking that. It's not going to happen. S'like you said, I'm practically married."
Spencer nods, because yeah, that makes sense, Ryan knows about these things. Still, though, "She's as crazy as the rest of you, sometimes she looks at me and I think it could work out alright. You're right, though. Of course you're right."
Ryan looks perplexed, though, which is odd because Spencer is agreeing with him. "She?" Ryan asks.
Spencer nods, still uncertain about the problem until he realizes he never mentioned who she was. He leans forward across the table to hiss, "Lady Victoria."
That doesn't seem to clear much up for Ryan, though, who stares at Spencer like he's lost his mind. After a moment of uncomfortable silence in which Spencer starts shifting around looking for the barman, hoping for a refill, Ryan leans forward like Spencer had, but he doesn't whisper. His incredulous exclaimation of, "Her?" must carry all the way through the room.
The disbelief is a little insulting, actually. Spencer has to ask, equally loud and a little petulant, "Who did you think I meant?"
Ryan shifts in his seat uncomfortably. "Nothing. No one. I don't know," he replies, waving his hand in a vague manner that would be unremarkable and nonchalant except for the fact that he's a little unsteady in his chair. "Victoria, though?"
Spencer nods.
"I mean, why?"
"Well she's..." Spencer tries, really, he does, to come up with words to express everything that's wonderful about Victoria. He can't articulate it really, but, "Well, you've known her longer than I have, you've got to know what I'm talking about."
Ryan shakes his head, mystified. "I really really don't."
"But she's--she's got that mysterious thing going on, and she's charming and glamorous and she's got this wicked sense of humor,"
he thinks he hears Ryan mutter something about how that's not the only thing about her that's wicked.
"If you feel that way," he has to ask, "Why do you work with her?"
"Not my choice," is the sullen reply.
"But she's--" Spencer knows he sounds like a lovesick teenager here, but he truly can't help it, "She's so steady. Like Bob. She's got this flighty exterior, but underneath you can tell she is rock solid about the people who matter." He lets his voice die away to almost nothing before he finishes with, "It makes me want to be one on the ones that matter."
The look Ryan's giving him now is different, still skeptical, but speculative, too.
"I really think you need to talk to Bob about this," is all he says. Lots of help there, Ryan. Spencer nods, but at the same time he's silently promising himself he will do no such thing.
Ryan delivers an unsteady, inebriated Spencer home, knocking at the door and then waiting with Spencer until Bob answers before giving Spencer a goodnatured shove across the threshold, saying emphatically under his breath, "Talk to him."
Of course, drunk Ryan isn't exactly subtle, and so Bob's all "ok, what gives?"
Spencer sways in the doorway before Bob reaches foreward saying, "Christ, Smith, you really need to learn you can't match Ryan drink for drink," and Spencer laughs, because he knows, he really does, but it never seems to stop him from trying, does it?
And the thing is, Spencer is a friendly drunk, and a very chatty drunk. Also, he's pawing at Bob's shirt, fumbling as he tries to get it off, which is distracting in its own right.
And Bob doesn't exactly object to that plan of action, in fact rather the reverse, but Ross sounded serious, and Bob really doesn't know what he's supposed to talk to Spencer about (or maybe he has an idea, but he's not sure he wants to admit it to himself just yet) and that in itself is kind of worrying.
If it's something Spencer's reluctant to talk about he'll probably have more luck now than if he tries to bring it up when Spencer's sober again. So as much as it pains him, Bob catches Spencers hands and stops the undressing. "Come on," he says. "What's going on?"
Spencer cocks his head.
"You tell me," he says, looking pointedly at Bob's hands on his wrists.
Bob's used to Spencer's weird backwards arguing skills. "Uh huh, I asked first," he said, towing Spencer over to sit down before fetching him a glass of clean water.
Spencer puts his focus on the water glass, avoiding Bob's eyes. "Ryan says we've been acting weird."
Bob nodded, huffing out a sigh. "Maybe we have. But...well, if I tell you, please don't freak out. I still love you, so damn much."
Spencer looked up. "Lady Victoria?"
Bob nodded, feeling a little ashamed. "Lady Victoria," he confirmed.
Spencer reached out and took his hand. "Me too."
And that...isn't exactly what Bob was expecting, but he can certainly work with it.
"You, too, huh?" he asks, feeling a tentative smile growing.
"Yeah," Spencer says, a little shamefaced and a little amused. "Convenient, isn't it?"
"How so?" he asked, watching as Spencer's sneaky hands snaked down towards Bob's belt.
"Well," Spencer replied, fingers fumbling for just a second over the buckle, "That we feel the same way about the same person? Think how messy it could have been if it was only one of us? Or two different people?"
That's all true enough, Bob supposes, but he still doesn't really feel like they've accomplished anything.
"But still," he said, watching Spencer unbuckle his pants. "It's you and me, we never said anything about third parties."
He swallowed as Spencer's drunken fumblings finally got his pants loose. "Tomorrow," Spencer mumbles against his neck, "We can say yea or nay or whatever else about third parties tomorrow." He finally looks up. "Okay?"
Bob had always found it hard to say no to Spencer, right from that very first meeting. "Okay," he says, reaching out to slide his fingers under Spencer's shirt. He's not starting now. In the morning, though, he resolves to himself, they're going to figure this out.
Morning comes far too early, and by Spencer's pained groan, far too brightly. Bob has to chuckle at that, though he stifles the sound with his hand; he's never been one to mock another's pain. Instead, he rolled out of bed and went to find him a glass of water. Spencer guzzled it greedily as Bob crawled back into bed, arranging them so that Spencer could rest his aching head on Bob's chest.
This morning, the calm, the weight of another body as familiar as his own against him, it's nothing unusual in this life he's made for himself. Today, though, Bob notices--the way they fit together but also the spaces they leave. Could another person fit into those spaces?
Spencer, as always, was the first to address the elephant in the room. "So. Lady Victoria."
"Yes," Bob says, and it isn't the most logical answer, but it's the only one he's got.
Spencer pokes where Bob's arm is resting around his waist. "Okay, cards on the table time?"
"If you want," Bob says, suddenly a little nervous, because when Spencer decides to be totally honest, it can be a little brutal. He thinks maybe they need that now, though, so he nods again, finishing, "Yeah. Lets."
Spencer exhales. "I love you," he says quietly. "But...I think I'm feeling something for Lady Victoria too."
"I--" Bob starts, "Yeah. Me too. I think there could be something there, maybe. With her and, well, with us, I guess."
Spencer laces their fingers together. "But us is key," he insisted. "We take care of us first."
Bob nods, feeling strangely relieved to hear the vehemence on Spencer's voice. He has to ask, though, "But are we going to try to take this somewhere? I mean, really. We don't know how she feels at all, do we?"
Spencer twisted in his arms and pressed a kiss to his lips, their matched stubble rasping in the silence. "Let's find out."
"Hmm, you think?" Bob asks, voice teasing despite the fact that it's an honest question. "You think you and I have what it takes to court a lady?"
Spencer scoffs. "It's us. Of course we do."
Bob laughs, relaxing and hugging Spencer to him. "Confident, I like it. I think we need to find out Victoria's thoughts regarding us."
Spencer murmurs his approval. "Go straight to the source?" he asks, voice still thick with sleep. "Or try to do some asking around first?"
They both thought for a moment. "Ryan seemed unimpressed any time I mentioned her," Spencer reflected. "Perhaps..."
"Time to speak to the lady," Bob finished.
Spencer grinned up at him.
"I think it's time we call on her formally."
They dress with care, follow all the rules for calling on someone who is technically a social better.
They want to make a good impression.
Spencer smiles a little proudly to himself. They make a fairly impressive sight, side by side on the doorstep. A maid opens the door and ushers them directly into her mistress' presence. Victoria looks them over, smiles, and waves them into seats opposite. She looks amused, but then, amused condescension seems to be her default setting. It's one of her charms, but it can be a bit unnerving.
She opens with a genial, "Gentlemen, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
Bob smiles winningly at her. "A social inquiry," he begins.
Victoria smiles back, and Spencer wonders if she's already figured them out. He's fairly sure that even if she hasn't, she'll say she had.
"Go on," she says, and for a moment Spencer thought he caught an edge of interest in her tone. Maybe they do have a chance.
Spencer nods for Bob to continue. "We were just interested as to your...well, forgive the personal enquiry, m'lady, but as to the status of your personal relationships?"
Victoria's smirk sharpens, and Spencer is now almost certain that they're not the only ones who have been entertaining certain thoughts. "My arrangements," she says in measured tones, "Are...flexible. In general. Although I'd be willing to make an exception in certain cases. At the moment I am, shall we say, rather open."
She contemplated her tea for a moment. "Though I must insist on honouring my late husband's dying request, to never remarry."
Spencer smirked. He'd heard rumours about that request, how it was less a deathbed request and more a surprise clause in the inheritence. But he nodded, smoothing over his features. "Of course."
"Keeping that in mind," Bob went on, "We were hoping to perhaps pursue better aquaintence with you, my Lady."
She raised an eyebrow, teasing. "Well, I am always amendable to expanding my social circle. Good conversation is so hard to come by."
Spencer and Bob swapped a look; there was the first test. Spencer wasn't about to let on they knew, though; one thing he's learned lately is that if you can pass a test without looking like you're aware of it, you move past the point of earning your spot as an equal, and right into the upper hand. Spencer has a feeling they're going to need all the hands up they can possibly get with Victoria.
He turns to her and says nonchalantly, "A problem that plagues us all, my Lady, to be sure."
She smiles, awarding the point. Spencer leans forward. "Tell me, my lady, do you enjoy the arts?"
She says, "I have been known to ...dabble within the theatrical community," and for a moment it sounds like she's warring with laughter. Spencer's fairly certain it isn't directed at him, though.
"Perhaps, then" he said. "We might entice you to join us for dinner and a performance?"
Her smile softens for a moment before she says, "It would be a pleasure."
They leave it at that for the day; this had to be done delicately, discreetly, and with style.