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He'd asked "What've we got to lose?" that day on the street and he still remembered how right it felt, how natural. Just like he remembered the laughing ease with which he had accepted her answer of "everything." Funny how he had thought he knew what that meant before Jane Goodale.
Ever so carefully so as not to shake the mattress too much, Eddie rolled up onto one bent arm and looked down at the peacefully sleeping woman beside him. The faintest of smiles lingered on her lips and he felt himself smile in response. Everything, he thought, got scarier by the minute and the ghost of Becca had loomed for an instant five days ago. His smile widened to accommodate the suppression of a laugh. Jane had taken care of that pretty easily by managing to upend a box of cereal on her head as she had stretched and strained to reach it. Her resulting facial expressions drove away the cobwebs until he had laughed outright.
Of course, he had then been forced to spend the next ten minutes showing her his contrition but it was worth it. Everything was worth it and here they were at four months and counting. It was a Sunday and there was no work, nowhere to be, and he could just lay beside her and watch her sleep.
Which possibly counted as creepy (and actually did, as she informed him one morning) but it was the best way he could think to spend the first hour or so of consciousness. He definitely didn't get to do it during the week. Monday through Friday, he and Jane spent the first hour fighting the endlessly playful, gender-based War of the Bathroom, followed by the breakfast ritual of Do We Have Time?, and ending with the Final Kiss Before The Studio. Everyone at the show knew they were a couple; it would have been impossible to avoid the knowledge in the amazingly complicated fall-out after the Charles Incident but, somehow, they always slipped into a friendly, working relationship the moment they stepped through the door.
That was the amazing thing about her. For all her impulse control problems and tendency towards explosive noises, Jane held her professionalism to a high mark, something he had noticed when they were first paired to work together for Diane. Articulate and organized and thorough even when she hated the subject, she allowed him to coast through parts of his own job. It was the first inkling of appreciation he'd formed for her - selfish as it was. Not that her trim little figure escaped his notice for long but, no matter what others believed, he had kept a definite line in the sand when it came to work relationships. An intern or secretary, make-up girl or writer, those were fine. Someone that offered a direct report, accountability, and (most important of all to his lonely little hind-brain) friendship? That person stood outside the realm of casual fling. Somewhere, without realizing it, Eddie knew he had placed Jane so far out of his concept of sexuality that it had taken a metaphorical gun to the head before he could ease his mind back open to the thought of her as desirable, lovable... Something beyond Jane and including all that was Jane.
He could remember the set of circumstances, the chain of events, but would never be able to put a finger directly on the moment. Jane herself had decided it was the night she cried herself dry in his arms over Ray and he hesitated to correct her. Certainties were still important to her. Events and actions held meaning. While he knew he was not her rebound case (they were simply too right for each other for that), he also knew that it was still too close to Ray to avoid some of the sore bits.
Besides... He really didn't want to risk a negative reaction if he could set the moment as far back as a late night cheering session or a lazy afternoon spent noticing her sprawled on her bed, scribbling obsessively in her notebook. Just in case. Though, he thought, it could also result in another creepy comment along the lines of watching her sleep. When she said creepy like that, he knew she actually meant just the opposite. When you paid attention, Jane held only so many mysteries. Ray and Dr. Charles aside, you had the most honest woman he had ever known.
Jane shifted a bit and Eddie held still, watching as she settled back into blissful sleep. He almost felt guilty as if his stray thought of those two, fictional and not, had disturbed her dreams. Almost guilty but not quite because it would have been poetic justice, really; he could claim more than one nightmare with one or the other in the starring role. He knew nothing but time could exorcise those ghosts but, for a week or so, he entertained thoughts of walking up to Ray and punching him. He could only imagine what Ray or Diane thought to keep themselves calm. After the show, everything came out into the open and the staff room remained tense for weeks as they all gauged each other's role in the farce. They were all professionals, though, and there was the show to keep in mind. It wasn't like high school and Eddie knew there was no chance of taking Ray out back to the flagpole for a beating.
Just like Diane probably knew that Ray would be grovelling for a good long time and, in the end, it was her choice to keep him or toss him. Eddie couldn't decide which scenario he liked better. He respected her and, while he never would have called her "friend," he gave enough of a damn to want her safe. Was Ray a good choice? Who knew? He was her choice, though, and Eddie would never argue.
Besides... Diane keeping Ray was the selfish side of him. Anything to keep Jane extra safe even if he knew, deep down, that just thinking like that would get his balls kicked. Any red-blooded feminist would have him hung for it and he knew it. Instinct, he told himself. Can't fight the Neanderthal all the time.
Just most of the time. Reaching out a hand, Eddie cupped the slim shoulder presented to him before bending to leave a gentle kiss at the turning of her jaw, just beneath her ear. It was good, though. She kept him on his toes just as much as he liked to think he kept her grounded. It was a good partnership but, more than that, it was a good life. He had just enough of a clue about his standing that he could relax but not so much that he felt the walls around them. Something in the back of his head reassured him that there were no walls. Jane didn't believe in walls, not really. Or boxes or normal human logic or... Eddie smiled to himself and gave his head a little shake. Jane believed in plenty of other things. He could take care of the rest as long as she stayed true to herself. That was the real key to the relationship. They had a balance that baffled him but he loved it.
He loved her.
Everything, Eddie thought as he lowered himself once more to curl down behind his girlfriend, had come to mean Jane Goodale and that, quirks and flaws and all, was one thing that he really could not bear to lose. His arm slipped around her waist and he closed his eyes, smiling into the soft hair at the nape of her neck. He knew how to fight for things now, though, and Jane herself knew him inside and out. He figured those were the best odds a guy could hope for and, really, what else could he want out of life? He had Jane and a fighting chance at happiness.