The One Where The Lines Get Kinda Blurry

The One Where No Means No

Jen still had her purse over her shoulder and her keys in her hand as she wrapped her arms as tightly as possible around him where they met in the corridor between the entrance and the kitchen. Neither of them said a word for several moments, speaking instead via their bodies which clung onto each other as if they'd been parted again for years rather than two and a half days. But in those two and a half days it felt like their world had changed infinitely and right now, they both needed to simply hold on and to be held.

"God, I can't tell you how glad I am you're here" Jen said into his chest after what seemed like an age of silent communication.

"I know, I feel the same" he replied softly into her hair, feeling entirely glad he'd made the snap decision to drop everything and fly back to work through this together. "There was no way I could stay at home with all this going on. I needed to be with you." Still neither of them wanted to let go and they stood locked in each other's embrace for another few long moments before finally Clyde spotted Jen and came bounding up to say hello, breaking the mood of the moment with his demands for attention.

"I was just about to make a coffee, you want one?" David asked as they walked into the kitchen, his trusty backpack still sat on the chair where he'd dropped it after arriving an hour or so earlier.

"I'd love one thanks. I don't think I slept more than an hour last night so I am totally powered by caffeine today."

"Yes I know that feeling, although I think I nodded off for a while on the flight."

"Was anyone there taking pictures today when you left home?" Jen asked as she busied herself feeding the bouncing, energetic dogs.

"No, thankfully, although it was early when I left. Paul said he only saw one of them still outside when he left yesterday evening and neither of us saw anyone lurking when he picked me up this morning. And when we landed, TJ was waiting right at the steps as usual. Thank goodness for your plane, although I do feel guilty about the amount of air miles I've clocked up this week, and how much it must have cost you in fuel and fees."

Jen rolled her eyes, "I really think that's the least of our worries right now don't you. I'm just eternally grateful I have it to use otherwise this would be considerably more difficult." She went and stood beside David, washing her hands as the dogs tucked into their dinner. "Hopefully the point blank denial has worked and you'll be left in peace again now" she said as she watched David pouring their coffees.

"I hope so" he said, a melancholy tone in his voice.

"What?" she asked.

"You're going to think this sounds strange" he replied, handing her a steaming mug then picking up his own as they meandered across to sit on the cream sofa, "but it felt like I was betraying you, well, betraying us, by saying that the story wasn't in any way true. It actually physically hurt my heart to tell Ina to put that out there." He rested back on the couch as Jen tucked her legs beneath her and sat sideways on to him. "And yet at the same time, it also felt like a huge relief when the denial got picked up and the paps went away."

"Honey, I don't think that sounds strange at all" Jen replied in an instant. "I felt so sad last night I can't tell you. I don't want our relationship being public property ever, but at the same time, calling it out as crap felt like a stab in the gut to me too, even though I absolutely believe it was the right thing to do."

"How the hell did we ever find ourselves living like this?" David asked, shifting his body weight so that he too was now sitting side on and almost face to face, lifting one knee up to rest on the soft cream fabric and settling it gently against hers.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we have the most luxurious lifestyles we could only ever have dreamed of thirty years ago; we each have more money than it's morally acceptable for one person to have; we spent ten wonderful years making a ground breaking show that's still as popular today as it was back then. From an outsider's point of view we seem to have it all... and yet somehow we can't even manage to have a simple day out together without some jerk taking it to a tabloid for a few bucks and ending up having to tell a pack of lies just to try and maintain a shred of privacy. Seriously, I think I'd rather whoever it was had just come up to us and asked for money to keep it secret. At least that would've shown some guts."