*****

PART THREE

The sound of the telephone ringing pulled Renee from her dream. She looked at the clock next to the bed. *Four o' freakin' clock in the morning...* She stood, sleepily walked out into the living room, and checked the caller ID box. It read "Killian's Bar and Grille."

"Steve?"

"Naw, Renee...it's Killian. I'm sorry to be callin' ye so late, but I t'ought I'd be gettin' yer machine.
"I jus' wanted to let ye know that Steve's 'ere, passed out in a booth."Since I got ye, d'ye want me to drive the bugger home or leave 'im where he is?"

The blonde smiled. "Leave him there, I guess...no need to bother you to drive your passed out employees home...just take the keys with you, okay?"

"Sounds alright by me."

"Thanks, Killian."

"No worries. G'night, Renee."

"Good night, Killian."

The blonde smiled as she hung up with the bar owner, then frowned at Steve's odd lack of self-control. He didn't often drink on the job. *Something must be bothering him,* she reflected.

Having gone to bed early, the blonde found herself wide awake. *Great...it's four in the morning and I doubt that I'll be able to get back to sleep.*

She sighed and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

*****

*What is there to do since I'm up and alone in the house?* thought Lucy to herself as she plugged her stereo back in and put a Bach CD into the changer, taking out all of the previous night's selections. She had woken up after the Peter Gabriel song in her dream and found that she couldn't go back to sleep.

*After I talk to Renee, they'll be put to good use again.* Then it struck her. *When AM I going to talk to her again? She did say that she'd talk to me at the cast party...should I wait? Should I go ahead and ring her up? Should I maybe just drive over?*

She found herself pacing frantically. *God, maybe I should wait and let her make the first move. Who's to say she will?
*Okay...what if she doesn't want to talk to me anymore and I die, sad and with Rob and his child and Daisy and I never get to talk to her again to work everything out and I'll be living a complete lie with this poor unfortunate man who, oddly, reminds me a lot of Joxer, and what if I die and I never tell her that I'm sorry for being an idiot, but she may never want to talk to me again after last night.*

Lucy took a mental breath, her thoughts racing to keep up with her pacing.

"You never know until you ask, Lucy," she told herself aloud, then glanced over at the clock. *Damn...it's only four thirty a.m.
*Maybe she went to bed as soon as she got home, maybe she's up right now??*

She sighed, all the "what ifs" and "maybe shes" giving her another massive headache that Tylenol wouldn't be able to touch. Lucy flopped down on her poofy couch to let the Bach work on her brain a little.

*****

Renee popped an Indigo Girls CD into her stereo and settled back into her computer chair to go online.

*Ooh! I've got mail! Let's see...a forward from Ted - jokes. Figures. A letter from Claire. A letter from mom. Oh goody...some porno spam - delete. Another one from Ted. A bloody chain letter.*

She sighed. "Dammit, Ted, you KNOW that I have to follow this letter to a T. Every actor is superstitious." As she proceeded to send the chain letter to ten of her friends before she could be doomed to her arms falling off after her thirty second time limit ran up, she decided to use the AOL Instant Messenger and see if anyone was awake.

*****

Lucy sat up from her cushy position on the couch and looked around her, sighing. She was bored.

*Maybe I'll sign on...*

She stood, a little too fast as far as her headache was concerned, and immediately sat back down. *Whoa...okay. Maybe I won't.* One more look around her immediate area for something to do, other than watch TV, and decided that headache or not, she was going online.

*I'll sign on with my AOL IMer, too...maybe one of my friends is on who could give me advice about her...*

*****

*Nope, no one on. I'll stick around just a little bit longer, see if anyone shows up.* Renee sent out the chain mail, making sure to send it back to Ted as punishment for sending it to her in the first place, and read and replied to her letters from Claire and her mother.

*****

Lucy sat down in the computer chair, careful not to make the headache rush back, and punched in her password. *I hope someone's on...* she thought to herself, sighing.

*****

*Lessee, I've caught up on my mail and no one's online. I don't really feel like surfing the Web or anything.* She sighed, quitting her internet programme. *I guess I'll go lie down and read or something...*

Renee shut down her computer and turned off the stereo. Before she signed off, she thought she saw Lucy's screen name appear in her Buddy List, but wasn't sure.

*C'mon, Ren...Lucy being up at five in the morning is ridiculous. I hardly think she'd go right to bed after dinner.* She turned off the computer desk lamp and grabbed Slaugherhouse Five from her bookshelf. *You'll just have to wait until Rob reschedules the cast party.*

*****

*Damn...no one's on. Guess I'll just have to wait until Rob reschedules the cast party. That's good, though. It'll give me enough time to come up with something to say to her.*

Lucy sifted through her mail, then shut down her computer to go back to bed. She was feeling so listless since her fight with Renee, not knowing what exactly to do with herself to take up her time. She didn't feel like reading or writing, she didn't want to watch television. All her energy left when she let that beautiful blonde walk out of her house, but she was determined to talk to her, to tell her what she felt.

She lay down on her bed and covered herself in her large, fluffy blankets. Eventually, Lucy turned over so she could read the clock. *Five a.m. It's going to be light soon...* Groaning, she puled the blanket over her head to hide her eyes from the inevitable bright intrustion.

*****

"C'mon, wake up Steve." Killian tapped his right foot. He didn't have the time for this inconvenience.

The spunky Irishman needed to clean his bar and restaurant and make it presentable for the breakfast crowd, it being almost eight in the morning, not to mention that he knew that his bar manager needed to go home and sleep off his little hangover.

Killian eyed the prostrate bar manager. *Renee's gonna kick yer arse, ya wee prick.*

"Get up, Steve. Unless, of course, ye WANT to work today." He heard the moan issue from the man's lips as he slowly fought to get to an upright position.

"Where'm I?" His speech was fogged by his drunken haze and sleep-numbed mouth. "My tongue feels like it's been carpeted."

Killian sat next to Steve. "That I don't doubt. Ye're hittin' the bottle pretty hard last night. Anyt'ing ye wanna talk about?"

Through sleep-hooded eyes, Steve looked at his boss and smiled. "No, thanks. I should get home." He started feeling around his clothes to find his keys.

"Where're my keys?"

"I've got them 'cause yer not driving anywhere.
"Steve, this isn't like ye. What's th' matter?"

The bar manager looked at his boss, contemplating whether or not to say anything. *He's just looking out for me, and she's not here to defend herself...*

"Are ye there, son?"

Steve looked away and cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm here. I'd...uh...better get home. Ren's probably worried about me." The young man stood and started to slowly stagger out of the bar. He turned around at the sound of gingling keys.

"And how d'ye expect to do that, Steve? I've got yer keys.
"Listen, I know something's wrong, but I'm not gonna pressure ye into tellin' me. I understand that privacy is very important to ye n' Renee. What I suggest is that ye get the problem fixed as soon as possible."

Steve smiled and nodded at Killian's sage advice. "Now, if ye'll take another suggestion, I advise that ye call Renee right now and tell her that I'm driving yer sorry arse home."

Steve approached the bar as Killian put the phone on it for easier access. To give the man some privacy, he started to wipe down the bar from the previous night.

*****

*Lucy.* With that thought, the blonde stumbled out into the living room from her bedroom to answer the phone. She was slightly disappointed to again read "Killian's Bar and Grille" on the caller ID box.

"Steve?" she answered, her voice hampered by sleep.

"Yeah, love, it's me. How are you?"

"I'm fine, how're you? Killian called here at four this morning to tell me that you were passed out at the bar. You don't drink on the job unless something is wrong..." She allowed herself to trail off at the end of her sentense, hoping to pry some information out of him. She did still care for him, but they needed to have a long talk.

"I...uh...yeah, something is wrong, but I don't want to talk over the phone. I just wanted to let you know that Killian is gonna drive me home.
"I'll be there in about half an hour. Okay?"

"Okay. See ya then," she replied...she was starting to feel nervous about how this phonecall was going to end...

"Renee?"

She hesitated. "Yes?"

"I love you, y'know..." With that, he hung up the phone, not waiting to hear her reply.

The blonde expelled the breath she didn't know she was holding and hung up the phone. *He knows...or at least as a feeling,* she thought as she went into the kitchen to make some coffee and wait for his arrival.

*****

"Honey, I'm home!" pronounced Rob Tapert in his cheesiest TV dad voice. The meeting with Sam Raimi was shorter than he anticipated, the man could have called him over the phone for his opinion, but he felt the need to have Rob be there.

*Figures,* thought the producer. *It's the beginning of our hiatus, where I get to have a little time off, too, and Sam calls me up and begs me to go to California to talk about his damn Kevin Costner movie...*

"Lucy, you home?" he shouted to the seemingly empty house as he put down his luggage.

His wife came out of their bedroom, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "Did you ever stop to think I might actually be asleep, Rob? People do that, y'know, sleep." *Even though I have slept for a real long time.*

"Oh, sorry, hon, but it's almost nine, I thought you'd be up by now." He moved to kiss her, but she stepped back and away from the gangly producer. He, of course, didn't think anything of it.

"So what'd you do yesterday?" he asked.

"I read that script you gave me from Sam. I like it, but...umm...I don't think it'll play in Peoria..."

Rob laughed at the old saying. "If anyone can do it, it'd be Sam, hon, you know that. Just give the role some thought, okay?
"Did you do anything else?"

"Not really."

Wanting the conversation to veer away from one of the most horrible nights in her life, Lucy quickly asked, "So, what did Sam want?" She sat down on a bar stool that was by the counter as, her husband quickly put his bags in their room.

"Oh, Sam's having MPAA troubles with For Love of the Game. He just wanted someone to talk to."

"MPAA? That's the American ratings board, right?" Her mind was still in it's "Let's dream of Renee" mode, in spite of the Peoria remark, and she didn't want to get out of it.

"Yeah, the Motion Picture Association of America. Anyways, that group's always been political, I mean...Jurassic Park, to hell with that...Jaws. Scariest damn movie on the planet and it's rated PG-13 - parents have to be with kids under the age of thirteen. For Love of the Game...it's a main-stream romantic Kevin Costner baseball flick, for cryin' out loud, not Evil Dead IV and they want to rate it R for people over the age of seventeen. Why's that? It's Sam Raimi, 'horror auteur,' not Steven Spielberg."

Lucy rolled her eyes at her husband's rant, not because he wasn't right - she agreed with what he was saying - but because she knew those weren't his words. Oh, they'd be what his heart felt alright, she wasn't denying that, but she knew that he had just spent nearly twenty four hours listening to Sam himself talk about the situation, getting his dander up even more.

She let her mind wander back to the beautiful blonde as her husband regurgitated what the director said to him, nodding and "Uhhuh"-ing in all the right places. He was too busy unpacking in their room to see the bored expression that covered her face.

She snapped her attention back to the now when she heard the two words she was desperately waiting for - "cast party".

"I can't believe I cancelled the cast party for THAT. Speaking of which, when do you think I should reschedule it?"

Lucy smiled. "As soon as possible."

The producer walked out of the bedroom. "You know, you're right. I'll have Eric make all the calls and reschedule the party for tomorrow, how's that?"

"It's a great idea, but Rob, I think you should make the calls, or pick someone a little less busy. I talked to Renee yesterday and she had no idea the party was off."

"Oh...did you talk to anyone else?"

Lucy gave herself a mental slap for not thinking that Eric probably didn't call ANYone. "Nope."

"Oh boy...heh. Yeah, I should make the calls since it's my fault. I'm famished, though...would you call Ren and tell her what's going on? That'll give me time to get something to eat."

Lucy's heart skipped a beat, but her voice didn't betray her. "Okay, I guess I can do that. I'll use the phone in the bedroom." Rob nodded and turned on the portible radio for some ambient sound.

She slowly got off the stool and walked into the room, trying to contain her excitement. As soon as she was away from Rob's eyesight, she excitedly jumped up and down, then calmed herself. The only thing that betrayed her happiness was the wide smile that graced her lips. She reached for the phone.

---

Continued HERE

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