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[ Baby doesn't mind Kimberly around. He'd probably like having her around, actually, if and when they managed to get past this - this thing between the two of them, where she's still obviously hurt by what he did and what he said and what happened. It's not going to be a quick thing, he knows, whether or not she has Robbie.

He just isn't sure what to say or do to make it better. ]

Don't say that. You're welcome here anytime. I'm happy if you're happy with Robbie, and it doesn't bother me at all that you're here.

[ His tone is soft, heartfelt. Sincere, because he doesn't often do different than that and Kimberly deserves all of his sincerity anyway. ]

I'm the one who made it weird. [ He doesn't know if it'd be any different if they were still dating and he found her here after a night with Robbie, but it wouldn't be fair to mention. It's barely fair to think of. ] For what it's worth, I'm still sorry.

( she's quiet for a little while. it's not that she doesn't want to say something back, because she very much does, but more that she's just not sure what to say. there's so much that rolls around in her head unspoken, so many words and phrases that she's bitten back, unsure about their place when spoken out loud; now that she has the opportunity to say them, it's as if they've all fallen away.

eventually, kimberly sighs, settling the cup down on the counter in order to press her palms against it, pulling herself up to sit atop it. her shirt rides up a little in the process — she realizes a little too late, and has to pull it down, an uncharacteristic flush blooming across her cheeks as she does, legs crossing surprisingly daintily at the ankles to prevent another mishap.

she likes baby. present tense and past, even, and would have felt quite a lot more had things worked out that way. he's sweet and patient and genuine in a way she's wholly unused to, yet capable and strong when given the chance to showcase it. he's the kind of boy kimberly doesn't quite think she deserves, the kind of friend she's never really had. someone who wants her for her, not just a body in their bed.

it wasn't as if he had been the only boy she had hands and eyes for —
kimberly had never presented herself as innocent or exclusive or wanting anything beyond casual and consenting, and hadn't expected anything more in return — and it wasn't the loss of his physical intimacy that had hurt quite so badly. no, his breakup had touched on fears far beyond boys and being wanted, onto things like self-worth and her own capacity for being liked at all tossed in the mix.

it had been a testament to how much she'd liked him when she'd realized how scared she was of losing him altogether for someone else. clary had talked her down off that particular ledge, but kimberly had been left with the lingering feeling of unease and uncertainty, her own insecurities not yet tamed.

eventually, she lifts her gaze from her lap, letting it meet his with a soft, uncertain tug at the corners of her mouth. when she does speak, it's quiet, hesitant, the words unpracticed and rough around the edges. )

I — I am happy. With Robbie. I really like him, and I think... I think he really likes me too. ( i think is an understatement, truly, but teenage insecurities take a while to heal. ) But it's not — that's not — I don't want you to apologize.

( it's hard. to say what she wants to say, to fight that tightness in her throat that comes up when she tries to make the words string together. but she owes him that much. she owes him that much, if only out of respect. )

I'm not upset about you breaking up with me for somebody else. I mean, I am — I was — but not because... it wasn't about — ( she has to stop for a moment, to press the palm of her hand to her mouth, to swallow down that sharp taste of salt that comes up so rapidly. after a breath, she can continue. ) I was afraid.

I was afraid that you wouldn't want me at all, that we wouldn't be friends, that you wouldn't need me. If you had her. I was afraid that Clary wouldn't need me, that you and Clary had both replaced me with this other girl, this... better version of me. Prettier, more confident, smarter, better at... things.

( a self-deprecating little laugh, one that barely hides the telltale glistens of moisture pooling under her lashes. )

Nobody's ever — I've never really had friends before you guys. And I just... I was so scared, you know? That I'd be alone again. I don't want to be alone.

[ It's obvious that a lot is happening in her head as she sits silently, seemingly self-consciously, everything about her body language telling him to stay exactly where he is, and not say anything yet. He doesn't want to push before she's ready, or to talk over her and ruin her train of thoughts - whatever she has to say, it seems that it's important.

And then, she says it, and Baby is struck dumb, a little, because of all things... well, he did not expect this. Not from Kimberly, anyway, who appeared to him so self-possessed and confident and bold, and who might actually be a lot more afraid than she is letting it on. The veneer she puts on herself at all times is efficient, because until now, he did not realize that all of this was brewing, right under the surface.

Without much thought, Baby straightens up, leaving his mug on the counter as he comes closer, and gathers Kimberly into his arms, in a hug she can easily pull out of if she so wishes. It's more to show reassurance that he is, as a matter of fact, here to stay than anything else, but it feels important all the same. When he pulls away, he looks at her straight on. ]

I want you to know, and I fully mean it, that you and Isabelle are two completely, completely different people. And my liking her has nothing to do with you. It wasn't because she is better than you.

[ He takes a breath, wishing, once more, that he was better at all of this than he actually is. ]

And my liking her doesn't replace you, either. The two of you are not mutually exclusive. I thought I could - date several people at once, but I'm not. I'm not able to do that. But that doesn't change that I like you, and I'd like to be your friend, if you're okay with that.

[ This is a lot of talking, for Baby. So he stops, feeling a bit dumb again, wondering if he's said anything right. ]

( she doesn't want to pull out of it. it's the opposite, really — as his arms wrap around her, kimberly sinks into the embrace, her whole body crumpling in from the shoulders down as she lets her head rest into his shoulder. she's trying not to fall apart completely, but it's hard to resist the urge. it's only when he pulls away, hands shifting up to curl over her shoulders, that she manages to take in a deep, shuddering breath, nodding when she can't quite form the affirmative in words.

okay, the nods offer, and it's true. to an extent. she does believe him, if he says something, because he's never given her any reason to doubt his honesty. but believing him doesn't quite settle the unease in her stomach, or release the pent-up tears still demanding an outlet, so it's hard to do much more than blink and give a tight, unconvincing half-smile when he finally stops talking and looks at her for a response.

she'd so much rather just hug him again. so she does, reaching out to pull him back in to another embrace, this one a bit firmer as she presses her face more insistently into the warmth of his chest. she knows he might not be able to hear the soft whimpers that slip out, but he's always been able to read her body language so much more easily — like the telltale shakes that echo as she finally, finally gives in to tears that quickly dampen the front of her borrowed shirt... and likely his, too, in the process.

just hold her for a minute, baby, until she's done. there's a silver lining in this sort of a cry, gratitude and sheer relief in just letting her own fears out and finding them at least somewhat unfounded. )

[ He wishes she could know that her fears are completely unfounded. And he hopes, with time, that they'll get to that point, where she believes him entirely and it assuages any doubts. He hadn't realized just how deeply he'd carved a hole of worry in her chest when he told her they shouldn't date anymore, and while he is sorry for hurting her, he can't help but think it's for the best that it was done as early as it did; what if he'd waited, and feelings had grown even further?

Baby hates hurting people. He especially hates hurting people he cares about. So he's all too eager to let her into his arms again, wrapping them around her back, a hand rubbing up and down slowly, reassuring. It's all too easy to drop a kiss to the top of her head, staying like this in silence, happy to let her feelings come out however she prefers.

He isn't sure it's enough, but then again he didn't realize how emotional Kimberly was. Maybe he would have been more careful with her if he had known, but he thought - she was dating Robbie, and she seemed so free. He never thought he would ever have such an impact. But as it is, he did, and so he holds her tight and presses his nose to her hair and doesn't say anything more. ]

( it's a perception grown mostly of youthful naivety — for all kimberly's false confidence and for all of her physical desires, she's never been very familiar with the kinds of relationships people can have. her relationships have always been superficial, flighty and easily broken off; amanda's easy dismissal of her had been a reminder of that.

and while kimberly had had the rangers, there had always been the question — are we friends? or are we just power rangers? — lingering in the back of her mind, the knowledge that the four collective individuals that had joined her around the morphing grid might have never so much as spoken her name if fate hadn't brought them all to the mine that night. their friendship was born of necessity, a requirement to gaining the abilities they so desperately needed, and kimberly wasn't quite sure it would have happened otherwise.

so the idea that someone who had been attracted to her — something she knew well enough, boys who wanted her for her body and what she could do with it — might want something beyond that, something beyond just physical attraction when that was off the table... well, it was a bit foreign to her. she'd never had someone turn her down and yet still want her. even just as a friend.

she doesn't know how long she lingers in his embrace, curled up against his chest as she lets out what's left of her own sadness, until she's able to settle into quiet again; eventually, though, her shaky breaths even out, and her eyes are able to close, finally no longer heavy with collected tears. and then, after a moment, kimberly manages to take a soft, slow breath, wiping her eyes with the palm of her hand before peering back up at him, an apologetic smile curving her mouth just enough to be noticeable. )

I've always... I mean, I liked you. Just hanging out with you, driving, holding your hand — I know, that sounds so dumb, but that was always my favorite part. And I guess I was afraid you wouldn't want to see me at all anymore, and... I don't know. I'd miss you. Even if I'd see you like this, I'd miss those things.

( she's not sure what's appropriate to say in this context, but at least that's honest. a good start. in the quiet, her gaze drops to the counter, where the food he'd so kindly prepared has obviously long gone cold while she's wept, and she can't help but feel a pang of guilt for that. ) Damn.

If you want, I can go get dressed, and... maybe we could go get pancakes?

[ If she knew - how little he's had in the way of friendships, himself, that he'd been ready to latch onto Buddy and consider him a friend, before everything happened. Before he remembered that he worked with criminals, back home, murderers, and the blood on their hands had transferred to his. If only she knew how lonely he'd been, because alone was easier than constantly lying, until he'd met Debbie. If only she saw how much of a loser he actually was, an uncool kid with a cool hobby, that didn't get girlfriends or friends or invited to parties when he was still in school. The weirdo loner with his dead parents and his deaf foster dad and his habit to listen to music all the time, even in class, on outdated iPods.

Not really any kind of grade-A boyfriend material. ]

I was afraid you wouldn't want to see me anymore. That you wouldn't want to be friends with me.

[ He gives the omelette a look. Cold eggs are the worst, and so when he looks back at Kimberly, he smiles, nodding. ]

Sure am in for pancakes.

( a shake of her head, just slightly, and kimberly can't help but roll her eyes. it's an affectionate, friendly gesture, one that's mirrored by the slide of her hand down towards his, until it slips around his own and squeezes just enough to be felt. ) That was never going to happen. ( it's tempting to linger a little longer, to relish in the warmth of his hand in hers, but she's also pretty hungry and every second that they stand in this kitchen is another second in which she's not eating.

so, without any further ado, she pulls her hand free with one last squeeze and moves away, darting out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. as she climbs up, she hollers over the balcony, ) You and me, then, and a giant stack of pancakes — ten minutes.

( and then she's slipping behind the door of robbie's room, latching it shut behind her in order to shower and change. ten minutes might be cutting it close, but she'll do her best. )

Well, neither was the other way around.

[ He gives Kimberly his best smile, squeezing her fingers back in kind; a soft little gesture, but still heartfelt as ever.

And then she's running off, and Baby gives her a salute, looking down at himself - before opting to get properly dressed as well, climbing up the stairs to his room himself, and putting on a pair of jeans instead of the sweatpants he'd been lounging in after showering earlier.

Ten minutes later, he's downstairs again, by the door, iPod on and keys in his pocket, Van Morrison singing to him about Tupelo Honey as he waits for Kimberly, not actually expecting her to be ready that quickly. ]

( maybe ten minutes was a bit optimistic, but eventually, kimberly does make her way downstairs. her hair is still slightly damp from her shower, which makes pulling a sweater over her head a little bit difficult; she manages with only the smallest amount of grumbling, yanking it down finally to cover the slim line exposed over her jeans. )

Okay, sorry, ( rambled out as she grabs her bag from the hook by the door, slinging it over her shoulder. ) I'm ready now.

( oh, good, he has his keys. )

Do I get a ride today too?

I couldn't tell if you drove here last night or not.

[ He's taking his car anyway. ]

I've got to get to work after breakfast, but I can drop you off at yours if you want. Or to the dance studio if you have classes.

[ He opens the door, letting Kimberly go first; he was raised right, Joe reminds him in his head, and he is a gentleman. It's not because they're not dating that he can't be.

As they walk down to the garage, Baby grins. ]

Did Robbie tell you I might be getting a dog?

( the telltale gleam of recently washed pink metal against the far wall of the garage is a good sign that kimberly's rolled up on her own in the last day or so, but they're moving and getting into his car before she can point it out. and it's not really that big of a deal either way, anyway, so it's not something she feels the need to harp on.

she's just happy he's not staring at her like an alien with three heads for her outburst, and that the small cosmetics bag she'd tucked in a drawer in the bathroom had helped to mitigate the telltale red splotches across her cheeks. no need to roll into the house of pancakes looking like a wannabe circus clown. )

My schedule's pretty open today, actually. If you want, you can just drop me off at the Garage.

( she'll just ask robbie to bring her back when he's ready to take a break for lunch... or when she forces him to actually take said break, more likely. )

Might be? What kind of dog?

( clearly, the aforementioned mechanic had not mentioned it. shame on him. )

[ As they get into the car and settled, Baby nods at the mention of the Garage. There's something strange, still, to think that he and Kimberly were - dating, sort of, and now he is living with her boyfriend. He'd guess Robbie is her boyfriend. He has no idea if she and Izzy know each other, or talk to each other at all, but it's -

It's a weird kind of arrangement, not one that Baby is used to, but he's glad, in a way. Because he's got incredible friends, and this incredible girl he's into. He's lucked out, at the end of the day.

He gets the car into gear and gets them on the road, reminded of that first time they did it, Kimberly tucked comfortably in his passenger seat as the car rumbles under them. ]

A pitbull. Met him at the shelter the other day. Here, look - [ With one hand, Baby opens his phone and goes to his pictures, barely taking his eyes off the road. The very first is a picture of Izzy, but the next is Otis. ]

( if baby wants to think of robbie as her boyfriend, kimberly's not going to stop him. they haven't defined things in such a way, yet, but it's a fair assumption — they spend time with each other more than they do almost anyone else, they've both cleared spaces for the other in their respective living quarters, they go on dates and have inside jokes and all the regular trappings of something more clearly defined. and yet, it's still up in the air. maybe he's like that with other girls, too; she wouldn't know, she doesn't ask. )

I didn't even realize they had a shelter here.

( the first photo earns a stifled laugh in her throat — which is, admittedly, a bit hypocritical of her, given the contents of her own photo roll — but the second is all too adorable. a grumpy old man of a dog, one who probably needs a little extra attention, seems just right for baby's never-ending supply of sweetness.

she's not personally that much of a fan of bigger dogs, and likely would have chosen something a bit more manageable, but that doesn't mean she can't appreciate them when they're owned by somebody else. so, it's with an approving nod that she taps the lock button on the side, the screen of the phone slipping black, and settles back against the bench seat. )

Look at you, a million jobs and a girl and a dog. What else do you need?

[ Eyes on the road, Baby lets Kimberly with his phone, not too worried if she chooses to swipe around. He's got nothing to hide, here - nor does he want to. Of course, he's guarded with some details, mainly about his life before arriving here, but it's mainly because he's terrified of being judged for who he was, who he had to be to survive - a coward, a pushover, a criminal.

But here, he is just Baby. He is a music lover, determined to make amends for his past life and the errors of his ways. Here, he can be the guy with three jobs and an old dog to follow him around and a girl that's too good for him and friends he can count on.

He's excited to get Otis, and get him settled into a better life for his golden years. He's excited to explore things with Izzy, see where they lead and where the two of them find themselves at. He's excited to grow with Kimberly and Robbie and Clary and Claire around him, and help them grow, too, if he can. ]

Friends. [ As he parks the car in front of the diner, he looks at Kimberly, the statement very clear. ]

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	you've reached kimberly — you really should have texted me. who leaves a voicemail anymore? audio \| text \| video \| snapchat \| action
kimberly hart.