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Episode 4.05 Straight from the Heart
They were sat in the jail cell long after Herb left and the novelty had worn off. While Johnny slept and Les sulked and Venus and Mr Carlson played cards with the friendly pervert they had picked up at the cinema, Andy and Bailey sat side by side in the corner trying to get comfortable.
And while Andy seemed content to just slouch with his head against the concrete wall and his hands dug deep into his hoodie’s pockets, Bailey kept adjusting until finally she gave up and leaned against him instead.
Smiling, he slung his arm around her shoulders, an open invitation to make him her pillow. “Now do you wish you hadn't come along?” He asked her, head lowering towards hers.
Knowing how she felt about being left out of things like their regular poker games because of gender (now they wouldn't invite her because she beat them all), he hadn't been surprised when she had insisted on joining them on this caper to talk sense into their senseless sales manager, even though it meant going into an “adult” theatre. And while Mr Carlson stuttered at the notion and Venus tried to talk sense and Johnny resorted to dictatorial commands, Andy had stayed silent. He had seen how stubborn she could be when she was angry and didn't want any of that ire directed at him.
She shrugged. “I’d never been to one of those theatres before,” she admitted, “I was curious.”
“So was I,” he confessed in kind, surprised when she turned to look at him, perhaps unsure whether to believe him. “What? I've never gone to one either. Can’t say I missed much.”
Bailey then straightened enough to look at the others and applied the question to them, wondering if what she had assumed was true about all men was not true at all.
“I've been a few times,” Johnny readily admitted without shame or surprise. After all, there wasn’t a movie theatre in the city that he hadn’t been to at one time or other.
Les shifted under her gaze, holding his suitcase close and wishing that he had gone on that flight. “I’ve only gone with Herb.”
Venus shook his head and wisely pled the fifth.
Mr Carlson shrugged and stammered out that “Well, we were all young once.”
“They closed my favourite one last week, it has a bigger screen,” added the resident pervert, dubbed Pete, ever helpful and happy to join in.
Andy moved closer to Bailey when Pete smiled at her, the pair exchanging a look that promised of his watching over her and her - on this occasion at least, and while amongst this mixed company - being more than willing to accept.
Before too long they were allowed to leave, Venus deflecting the pervert’s attempts to exchange numbers so that they could do this all again sometime, and Andy offering to give Bailey a drive home.
“You're quiet,” he said when they had just gotten underway. And while he could chalk it up to all of them lacking sleep, he knew her well enough now to wonder if something else was the cause. “Pervert Pete didn't do anything weird when I wasn’t looking, did he?”
“Hmm? Oh, no.” She did have five layers of protection in the form of her male coworkers ensuring that he kept away from her. “You know that I'm a staunch believer in equal rights and female autonomy…”
“No one who met you could believe otherwise.”
She smiled at him, “But I was glad you were there. All of you, I mean,” she added hurriedly when she saw his eyes dart to her.
“Then what’s on your mind?” He asked, focusing on the task of driving rather than delving too deeply into any hidden meaning within her statement.
She turned in her seat to look at Andy as he continued to drive her home. “I was just thinking about the movie that they showed.”
“What about it?” He asked nervously, suddenly on guard about what she could possibly ask. He knew her well enough now for that as well.
“Is that what men really want? Women who do… all that?” She had drawn a scene in the air with embarrassed hands before pulling them back and wrapping them around herself, suddenly self conscious.
He shifted in his seat, growing as uncomfortable as she had seemed to be. Why couldn't he have just been happy driving in silence? Why did he have to care about her and want to make sure that she really was okay? Now he was left having to find some kind of answer that didn't lump him in with the pervert Pete's of the world.
“Depends on the guy, I guess. And, there's a difference between what a person wants in their fantasies and what they want in real life.”
He felt her studying him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know why or what she thought she might find. Or what he might reveal to her without meaning to.
Nervous laughter returned, and he desperately hoped that she wasn’t going to ask him what he desired. “What?”
She smiled and shook her head, not at all wanting to answer, or to admit to exactly what she had been thinking. But luckily another thought came to her that she knew would derail the topic completely.
“Do you think they make those movies for women?”
Episode 4.06 Who’s on First
Andy’s face was busted and his ribs bruised from his run in with Johnny’s… “messenger”. Luckily for them both nothing was broken. And while Mr Carlson and Jennifer went to visit Herb after making sure their friend was alright, and Johnny left as soon as he learned what had brought them to the ER with the program director, Bailey stayed with Andy throughout, and returned the favour he had done so often for her and drove him home.
He still had drugs in his system and was for the moment feeling comparatively little pain as he swung open the door and staggered inside, shucking off his jacket and leaving it in the doorway for Bailey to pick up as she followed in behind him.
“Are you sure you're okay to stay by yourself?” She asked, watching as he cautiously lowered himself onto his couch and sprawled out as much as he could.
He blew a raspberry and immediately grabbed his swollen face in pain, worried he had started his nose bleeding again. “Yeah. Sure. I'm fine.”
Not believing him but letting him lie to himself, she moved into his kitchen with the medication and instructions from the hospital, and set about making him comfortable before she left.
“How do you not have any ice? Your freezer is empty.”
“The freezer is tiny,” he corrected, sounding like a congested child with a cold, and trying to find a position that was comfortable.
“Go to bed,” she ordered, the sounds of ice trays filling and shuffling about the domestic soundtrack to her command. “I’ll bring you what you need to be comfortable.”
Not about to argue and silently liking having someone take care of him for once, he complied. He had just managed to change into loose pj bottoms when she knocked on the door, surprised to find him without a shirt and with a bruised flank when he bid her inside.
Andy's preferred fit for his pants was best described as somewhere between snug and tight. So, to see him now, with loose material hung low on his hips that was only held up by a tied drawstring, made her feel that he was on display with the same voyeuristic result she experienced in the adult theatre. She tried not to look, trying to remain respectful, as he tried, and failed, to pull on a shirt.
“It hurts,” he whined, throwing the t-shirt he had selected aside and crawled into his bed.
She had never seen his bedroom before. In fairness she hadn't seen the bedroom of many people - she wasn't a bedroom connoisseur after all - but this felt like an intimate intrusion despite her purpose and the invitation.
She could smell him within the space, the clean natural odour that was Andy Travis. And she tried to push that aside as she set water and his next doses of drugs on his bedside table before bringing his phone into reach and handing him a beer.
He raised a pained eyebrow. Well, at least he tried to. He probably would have managed it were it not for the pain. “I'm not thirsty.”
“It's for your face! It's the coldest thing in your fridge.” She sat on the edge of the bed, taking the bottle in hand and gently applying it to the side of his face that needed it the most, trying to be gentle despite Andy’s hiss. “He sure did a number on you.”
He took the bottle from her with a frown. “Do I look that bad?” He needed to know.
She tried not to smile at his expense and didn't want to admit just how handsome she usually thought he was. “Well, it's a good thing you still have your hair.” He groaned and put the bottle back in place. “Okay, you have your next dose of medicine at the ready and I set your alarm for when it's due. Your phone is here with mine and Venus's numbers in case you need anything. Is there anything else you need? Reading materials perhaps?”
Her voice had turned lyrical at the end and he had learned enough to know that was never a good sign.
“You won't find any illicit magazines,” he told her as though he read her mind.
Hands settled upon her hips. “You expect me to believe that you don't have any?”
“I didn't say that. I just said that you wouldn't find them.” He winced as he tried to laugh before breaking into a coughing fit that wracked his entire body with pain. He curled over, trying to find an easy breath as well as a position that didn’t hurt.
She went to his aid, adjusting his pillows and helping him to sit, being careful to make sure that she wasn’t hurting him more.
“Remind me to kill Johnny,” he wheezed, letting her guide him back into what he hoped was a comfortable position.
“I’ll add it to your to-do list,” she promised, checking his face to make sure he didn't hurt himself worse or cause any bleeding to start again, “Right after charging your hospital bill to Mr Carlson. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Bailey.” He met her eyes, easier since she wasn’t wearing her glasses that were, instead, sat atop her head; her blouse was high necked and loosely fit and reminded him of a librarian. He had always liked smart women… And she…
She felt herself blushing under his gaze, “Andy? Are you catatonic?”
Her hand was still in his hair, having pushed it back so that she could clearly see his hurt. He grasped her hand away, afraid that she would see something else - that something he had long fought to ignore - instead.
“No,” he said, looking down at her hand still held in his loose grip, his thumb rubbing circles against the inside of her wrist. “I was just thinking.”
She was watching his hand also, his thumb against her skin, and finding it hard to think of anything else. “O-of killing Johnny?”
“No. About that movie.” She didn't have to ask of which movie he was referring. It was, after all, the only movie they had ever seen together. “And if women actually like…”
She met his eye, a flush deepening against her cheeks. While this was Andy, someone with whom she had never felt anything but safe, here he was, half dressed and touching her, and they were in his bedroom and he was looking at her like he wanted to kiss her and she was sorely tempted to admit how long she had wanted him to look at her like that.
“Depends on the woman,” she said, her voice low and breathing shallow as he slowly and painfully sat forward. And despite everything, she felt herself leaning towards him as well. “Depends on who she's with…”
She wasn't sure who kissed whom first, only that it was bashful and gentle and asking the question of if this first kiss would also be their last. When they went for a second, his free hand caressing her neck to hold her near, either his face or his side protested and when he winced her morals were reminded to protest this too.
Here he was, injured and on pain killers and she was taking advantage of the situation in ways that she couldn't approve of and wouldn't let continue. She immediately stood as he got comfortable once more, making sure to leave more space between them. Half a room should be enough.
“I'm sorry,” he said when he sat back against his pillow, eyes closed, silently cursing himself; a hand protectively to his side and feeling worlds more sober than just a moment before.
“No, Andy, I am. I shouldn't have…” Have what? Wanted him to do that for a very long time? Forgot to do anything but feel when he actually did? Knowing that this would never do, she let out a breath to reset and to force herself to look at him as a friend and coworker once more. “I should get going. And you should rest. But if you need anything…”
He smiled at her, relieved that she still cared despite both of their embarrassment. “I’ll be sure to call if I do.”
“Good.” She had thought about making a quick exit, to save her dignity. But, she was no longer someone who was okay in hiding. And so, after making one last check of his apartment for anything that needed immediate attention that she had missed, she went to bid him goodnight, her jacket in hand. He was laying back against his pillow, the room dark other than the light filtering in from the hall, washing over him. His eyes were closed and she wondered if he had fallen asleep that quickly. “Hey, Andy?”
His response was a tired “hmm?”
Not sure whether she hoped he was asleep or awake, she rallied to tell him that “If that impulse from a moment ago remains once you're better, well, you can always let me know that as well.”
Episode 4.18 Dear Liar
Bailey never did receive a call from him. And she never received a hint that he even recalled their indiscretion let alone wanted a repeat of it. Not until that day in Mr Carlson's office when she thought she had ruined her career and he had called her good looking.
That had to mean something. The look he gave her afterwards must have meant something. But what? She didn't want to have to hope. She wanted to know for sure.
And maybe that was what brought her to his building after work, bundled against the changing season’s cold.
He might not be there. He probably has a date. But what if he was home? What would she possibly say?
This wasn't a topic one could spring on a person. You needed an opening, a segue, or the right dirty joke.
Knowing she didn't have any of those things on hand and with courage quickly leaving, she turned to leave with her pride and their friendship still intact, only to see an all too familiar figure crossing the street towards her.
“I thought that was you,” Andy greeted, his curiosity peaked and trying not to recall the last time he had seen her at his door. That was a recollection that he hadn’t been able to shake, no matter how many times he chalked it up to drug-induced delusions. “What brings you by? Not that you aren't welcome.” His expression turned worried. “Is everything okay?”
“I was in the neighbourhood and…well, there was something I sort of wanted to talk to you about. But it isn't that important and I'm sure you have better things to do than to listen to me outside business hours…”
Bailey had grown a lot of confidence since he came to work at WKRP. He had seen her put Herb in his place and keep Les in line and match wits with Jennifer and defend herself against the ire of Mr Carlson with grace and dignity and absolute calm. But to see her return to the meek and insecure version of herself who had been afraid to speak an idea in front of a panel of peers, well, he knew that whatever was on her mind now probably wasn't strictly professional. And it certainly was important. At least to her. And perhaps to him as well.
Suddenly he needed to be off the street. “Why don't you come inside?”
“Are you sure that now isn't a bad time?” She asked, hopeful that it was.
He shook his head, a hand that was shaking from building nerves and cold weather urging her to join him in going where it was warm.
“Were you waiting long?” He asked, needing some small talk as they made the short walk to his apartment door.
“No. I had just arrived.” She laughed at herself, “I was just trying to figure out what to say.”
“Did you come up with anything?”
“Nope, I'm kind of making this up as I go.” And they both knew she wasn't great at ad-libbing.
He hid his smile as he opened his door, her nervous energy feeding into his own.
“Can I offer you a drink?” He asked instead of drawing attention to them both, throwing his heavy coat on the end of his couch as he went to his fridge, “This time I actually have ice.”
They paused, looking at one another, her realizing that he remembered at least some of the last time she was over and him realizing that at least some of that night had really been real. Suddenly this felt bigger than what she had really realized. This wasn’t some casual date she was asking a guy she trusted out on. This was a guy she had cared about on several levels for as long as she knew him. And nothing that she could start with him would ever be considered casual.
“You know what,” she hurried to say, glad that she still had on her coat, “This was a bad idea. I should go. And we should just forget I was here at all.” She laughed at herself and gave him an awkward wave, “Goodnight Andy. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“It’s Thursday,” he reminded, growing ever more curious as to what was on her mind and a little more hopeful he might already know the reason she was there. “Bailey,” he soothed, his voice ever calming, “Whatever it is that you came to say, I wish you would.” He sat on the edge of his couch, his offer for drinks forgotten entirely, this becoming ever more important. “I hope you feel comfortable enough to talk to me about anything you need.”
Anything, he said. If only he knew what she wanted to say. If only she had the words ready to say it with. But, still, she had to try. “That's just the thing. The thing I came to say I had hoped you had already been saying when you were really saying something else instead.” She grimaced and tried again. “I guess I came to see if that was what you were really saying or if you didn't and then I really shouldn't have said anything at all.”
While he liked dancing, he had never really been good at dancing around words. “I'm not sure if I…”
“You kissed me,” she blurted and grimaced at herself once more. But since it was now too late to do anything else, she pushed on, “Once. And you were pretty stoned during it so I didn't know if you meant it or if you maybe thought I was someone else or maybe you just forgot it had happened at all. But I had said… and then you called me beautiful and I…” It was all sounding foolish when said aloud. Although if she had thought this through it probably would have sounded foolish there as well.
“I'm making a fool of myself, aren’t I?”
His eyes told her he didn’t think her a fool at all. With an almost relieved breath he stood, nervous fingers hooked into the back pockets of his jeans, knowing this was now his turn to attempt to risk becoming a fool.
“I had wanted to do that,” he admitted with a rueful smile and downcast eyes as he started to close some of the gap between them, coming almost close enough that he could reach out and touch her, “For a very, very long time.”
He had used the past tense. “You did?” She couldn’t help the emotion that escaped with the question.
“Bailey,” he said, his tone softening in that way that he had, that way that always made her feel calm and butterflies at the same time. “You are an amazing woman who is brilliant and capable and beautiful, I would be crazy not to want to kiss you. I would be crazier not to want to kiss you again. To not want more than that.” His gaze caressed the lips that filled his daydreams, and he wished he could bridge the rest of the gap between them to remind himself of how kissing her had felt.
She could feel the ‘but’ well before he said it. And she wasn’t sure how she should be prepared for what would follow it. Especially since she hadn’t really been prepared for what he had just confessed, however much she had hoped.
Coming to WKRP changed a lot for Andy. This was the first time he could consider himself friends with his coworkers, those he was in a position of power over. That was a dynamic that he was still learning to navigate. And after what had recently happened with Mother Carlson, with how her use of influence and authority over him had made him feel, well, he never wanted to make anyone feel anything close to that. Especially not someone he had come to care about as he did Bailey.
“I know the station doesn’t have a policy against fraternization,” he said, not liking the word in this instant, it feeling almost dirty when being used to describe anything that might happen between them, “but there’s a lot of risk involved and I’m the program director. And I- well, I don’t want you to… you know…”
“Andy…” she sighed and took a step towards him, narrowing the gap between them; understanding his worries, and almost wanting to laugh at herself for never having had them herself. Not with him.
He still wanted to kiss her. He said he wanted more… but he was right. Starting anything between them came with a risk for them both. And between the two of them, should things go poorly, they would go worse for her. And as the one with the most to lose, she knew that ultimately, any real, first move would be hers to make.
This, she also knew, was like a hand of poker, assessing odds, benefits and risks before deciding whether to raise or fold. Luckily for them both she was good at poker, and she knew that this was the kind of risk worth taking. And that he, as far as she was concerned, would always be a safe bet and that doing this wasn't really a risk at all.
So, with eyes locked and nervously calm, she licked her lips and bridged the remaining space between them. She could see a future play out before them, one that was happy and hard and full and rewarding. One that she would be more than happy to share.
Unlike before she knew that she kissed first, and like before, this was tender and seeking and a promise of something more. His fingers unhooked from his pocket and ever so slowly as if not really sure this was happening, moved to hold her close, caressing her cheek before pulling her in as the first kiss turned into a relieved second and into a hope-filled third. Her hands were wrapped around him, holding him tightly, one buried into his hair, secretly delighting in feeling allowed to do so.
This time it was him that interrupted when reason momentarily returned. With harsh breathing and and a mussed hairstyle, he just needed to be sure that… “So, that’s a yes to -?” He gestured between them, not knowing what to call what they were doing beyond that it involved them both.
“Yes,” she said amidst a laugh before pressing her body against his and forcing her expression sober. “Now shut up and kiss me.”
He couldn’t fight his smile. He loved it when she took charge. “Yes Ma’am.”
Episode 4.20 The Impossible Dream
Andy was feeling dejected, let down and more than a little pissed off. He had planned out his vacation, and lined up everything almost perfectly. And not only did he have his trip usurped by Les, but the reporter didn’t even use it properly.
He should be pleasantly drunk in a ski lodge dreaming of one very specific girl whom he almost had agreeing to join him for his second week before having to give up the plan entirely. He shouldn’t be lamenting being in Cincinnati and having to go to work on Monday.
His mood lifted somewhat when there was a knock on his door that was beginning to become familiar.
And there was Bailey, with ski goggles atop her head, wearing a puffy winter coat over jeans that were more tight than snug, and with a bottle of his favourite whiskey, a bow tied around it's neck.
“What’s all this?” He asked amidst a laugh as he stepped back for her to come inside.
“I know you can’t have the ski hill,” she told him with a kiss, and locking the door behind her, “So I figured the least I could do was to bring you a snow bunny instead.”
He smiled at her, no longer feeling quite so bad about not being exactly where he was.
Episode 4.22 Up and Down the Dial
It was bad enough that Andy was hung over, but now his favourite shirt was covered in cake along with the rest of him. But, he supposed it was a small price to pay to keep his job and to not have to move his life again. And to not have to think about leaving…
Bailey's head appeared in the open doorway as she checked to make sure the office was otherwise empty before she snuck back inside, closing the door behind her.
The ire he had been feeling subsided in lue of the intrigue that rose in response to seeing her there and the smirk she wore. His hangover was almost forgotten completely alongside his ability to think or breathe when she sauntered towards him and sat on the edge of his desk. With teasing eyes watching his reaction, she ran a finger down his chest and stomach and threatening to cross the short distance to his belt before she took the now icing cover digit and placed it in her mouth where she could taste the icing she had gathered and clean her finger in a way that they both knew wasn't exactly fair.
She raised her eyebrows and licked her lips free of any remaining icing, waiting for his reaction.
“What happened,” he almost growled, sitting up, forgetting the remains of the cake entirely, and leaning towards her like a kitten about to pounce, “to keeping this out of the office?”
Her eyes narrowed. “And what happened to coming over last night?”
“You wouldn’t have wanted me there,” he assured with a gentle kiss, tasting the icing on her lips and remembering just how drunk he had gotten upon learning that he had been fired.
“I always want you,” she reminded, her teasingly stern expression breaking when he began to kiss her neck. “I'm glad you still have an office for us to keep this out of.”
He meant to tell her that he was glad too. That he was relieved and hopeful and just a little bit regretful that they had this boundary in place. But then he met her eyes and saw her smile and there was only one thought on his mind.
“I love you.”
There was no surprise or regret in his expression that he had aired that truth so soon into their relationship. Her smile brightened. “I love you, too,” she assured between sweetly slow kisses, promises of many kisses to come.
He sighed, perfectly content and more than looking forward to getting through the rest of the day. “I’ll pick you up at seven?” He asked when he felt her start to move away, knowing they really should be working.
“How about,” she countered with the playful cadence in her voice that promised he would like whatever she was about to suggest, her hand poised to open the door, “you come over at seven?” Her eyes glanced to his chest that still wore the remains of cake, “I have some ideas about dessert.”
He watched her go with a shake of his head, counting his luck and his hangover completely forgotten. He might not know what would happen next in his life or where his career would take him, but he was certain that as long as she was with him, they both could face their future head on.