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Title: Dreams and Obsessions
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Hilary Maxwell + Zayne Reyes, Andrej Zeklos/Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,648
Summary: Zayne is contemplating a conversation he had with his mother.
Author’s Note: Written for the Three Sentence Fic Challenge at 1_million_words.  Day one prompt:  "Once I had dreams, now they're obsessions!"  And OY did this go way beyond three sentences.

“Zayne,” Hilary asked, her voice quiet, “are you okay?”

It wasn’t like Zayne to mope about anything.  In all the years she’d known him, he’d always bounced back from whatever catastrophe presented itself.   So, whatever had him out here, sweltering in the early morning sun, had to be big.

“Yeah,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face as he met her gaze.  “Great.”

“Not buying it, cowboy,” she said, taking the empty spot beside him.

The clock hadn’t even struck eight and it was already a hundred degrees.  This summer was going to be literal hell on earth if things kept going like they were.  But Zayne remained unfazed, even though she could see sweat beading along his hairline.

He looked at her sideways, assessing whether he could burden her with his troubles.  It was a look she knew well; he’d given it to her many times during their on-again, off-again relationship.  Ever since he’d fully committed to a relationship with Andy and the narco, however, he hadn’t been confiding in her nearly as much.  Which, on the surface, was a good thing, if it meant he was confiding in his partners.

“Whatever it is,” she said, resting a hand on his forearm, “I’m here for you.”

Zayne watched her for another heartbeat.  Two.  Then nodded.  “You can’t tell anyone,” he said, glancing towards the front of the station, as if expecting a member of their little friend group to appear.  “Not Trish, not Zek.”  He shook his head.  “Especially not Zek.”

That was worrisome.  If anything, Andy was the one person Zayne could tell anything to, no matter what.  “Okay,” she said, agreeing to his terms.  “But I’m a bit freaked out that I can’t talk to Andy about this.”

“He wouldn’t understand,” Zayne said.  “Or maybe he would.  He’s good like that.  But either way, he’s put up with enough emotional trauma from me.”

Hilary nodded.  Zayne had relied on Andy for a lot over the years, but then, isn’t that what partners did?  What friends did?  Took on a bit of your weight so you could survive the day?  “Sure.  Now, spill it.”

“My mom called last night.”  He looked back towards the station, and it felt like he was trying to summon someone, anyone, to save him from whatever he was feeling.

“How is she?”  Her first encounter with Olivia Reyes had not gone well.  However, they had smoothed things over since that fateful night.

He shrugged.  “She’s just – mama.  Don’t know what else to tell you.”

She got it.  Her mom was just her mom, too, even at her craziest.  “Okay, and?”

“And,” he said, placing his palms on his thighs and pushing himself upright.  “She told me that as much as she likes Zek and the gingerbread, it was time for me to get serious and settle down.

Hilary tried not to smile.  “Your mother does realize that this is the most settled down you’ve ever been, right?”  Truth be told, he was damn near married at this point.  To Andy anyway.  Rosewood was like the accepted mistress that no one talked about.

He gave her that look.  The one that was half ‘you’re joking’ and half ‘I love that you get me’.  It warmed her belly and made her heart swell for the pain he was obviously in.

“She reminded me that while she was fine with the relationship I’d gotten into, that it was supposed to be temporary.  A fling, I guess.  That I had once had dreams.  Dreams of a wife and family, apparently.” He sighed heavily, a broken sound entangling with his breath.

“Whatever gave her the idea that Andy was a fling?”  Hilary was horrified by the thought.  Zayne was a notorious hound dog, but even he saw that this thing he had with Andy was real.  There was a time where she might have said his relationship with the redhead was a fling, but not Andy.

“I don’t know,” he muttered.  “I’m positive I made it clear that I – that he was the one.”  He pressed his lips together and gave his head a rough shake.  “That I loved him.  Them, even.”

“But your mom…”

“She’s delusional,” Zayne said with a laugh.  “She’s always wanted me to be like my siblings.  Get married.  Have a litter of children.  It was never in my plans.”  His gaze softened and he gave her his first, real smile. “There was a time when I could have married you and been happy.  Maybe we could have even had a rugrat.  But it wasn’t in the cards, I guess.”

“It wasn’t what you wanted,” she said, leaning into him.  “It’s what you thought you were supposed to want.”

“I guess.”  He kissed her temple.  “She told me that I had dreams once in my life and that those dreams had turned into obsessions.  Maybe she’s right.  I don’t know.”

His eyes fell back onto his boots, and hers followed.  Hilary could feel the confusion, the regret, and the humiliation flowing off him.  A shadow moved in her peripheral vision, and she looked up from Zayne’s feet before Zayne did.  She smiled.

Giving his wrist a squeeze, she said, “I’m going back inside before I melt.  And it’s going to be okay.”

“Sure,” he said, not looking up as she left.

“Why are you outside and not at your desk?”

The soft, accented voice drew him out of his reverie.  Zayne looked up into the wide, blue eyes of his partner.  His boyfriend.  His love.  “Zek, I –“.  He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand and grimaced.  “Ew, didn’t notice how much I’d been sweating.  Sorry.”  His hand dropped to his side.

Andrej made a face but sat on the dirty, dusty bench beside Zayne.  “Are you okay?  You do not look… right.”

Zayne snorted.  “Thanks, I think,” he said.  “You look fabulous as always.”

He smiled.  “I am not made for the heat, not even after all these years.  I dream of snow in July sometimes.”

“Let me tell you, I was born and raised under the desert sun and even I can’t always deal.”

“So, why are you out here sitting in it?”  He looked at his watch.  “It is still early yet, but it is already very warm.”

“I guess I’m just thinking,” he said.

“About what?”

“Dreams. Obligations.  Family.”  He glanced at Andrej.  “Love.  Obsessions.”  He laughed as he said the last word.

“For you, the last two go hand in hand,” Andrej teased.  He slipped his hand into Zayne’s and gave it a squeeze.  “I am no better.  I was very much obsessed with the idea of you long before I ever knew the reality of being with you.”

“Which do you prefer,” he asked, somewhat afraid to hear the answer.  “The obsessive dream or the harsh reality?”

“The reality, complicated as it sometimes can be.”  He gazed at Zayne, nothing but love in his expression.  Standing, he held his hand out.  “Come, let’s go inside.  We have work to do and it’s much cooler inside.”

Zayne took the offered hand and stood up.  “Could we stop by the locker room first?  If I don’t freshen up a bit, I might knock the girls over the first time the fan blows in my direction.”

“Of course.”  Not releasing Zayne’s hand, he led his partner back into the station.

“Zek,” he said, holding the door open so they could enter.  “Did you ever want kids?”

“Children?”  He shook his head.  “I would not have minded, however, I spent much of my youth helping to raise my siblings.  After I lost my mother, their welfare became my responsibility.”  He walked beside Zayne to the locker room.  “However, I am content to watch my nieces and nephews grow up.  And that will not change should Hilary or Trish ever decide to have one of their own.”

Zayne nodded, taking that in.  Hilary’s relationship with narco junior – Jake – was moving steadily towards something very serious.  It was likely they’d get married before too long.  So, there could be kids in his future one way or another.  “That’s a good way to look at it,” he said.

“What are you going to tell your mother,” Andrej asked as they entered the locker room.

Zayne shrugged.  “The truth, I guess.  That I’m happy where I am and short of you deciding to kick me to the curb, nothing is going to change that.  Besides, she has enough grandkids already.”

Andrej laughed.  “She will not agree, but it is not her choice either.”

Zayne stripped off his shirt and tossed it into his locker.  He dug around and pulled out a cleaner, fresher one and pulled it over his head.  “Yeah, still not going to be an easy conversation to have with her.”

“Just remember,” Andrej said, grabbing Zayne’s sweaty shirt out of the locker and folding it.  “It is your life.  She may be unhappy for a moment, but she will come to accept your choices if you are happy.”

“I hope you’re right,” Zayne said.  “Okay, I don’t smell like I’ve been playing tennis for twelve hours, I guess we can go back to work now.”

A smile spread across Andrej’s face.  “I cannot picture you playing tennis.”

“Really,” Zayne said, closing his locker door.  “Why not?”

“Because it takes patience,” Andrej said, heading towards the stairs that would take them to the homicide bullpen.  “And finesse.  Two things you generally lack.”

Zayne scoffed.  “Says you.  And what do you know,” he teased.

“About you?”  Andrej lifted an eyebrow.  “More than you realize.”

“Ain’t that the scary ass truth,” Zayne muttered, following his partner up the stairs and into their workspace.  But honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.  As long as one of them knew what the hell he was doing an why, he was good.

Date: 2023-08-03 04:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sharpiesgal.livejournal.com
Another good story. I feel for Zayne. Family obligations just suck.

Date: 2023-08-03 05:26 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] asphaltcowgrrl.livejournal.com

Thank you! God, don't I know it. This was partly inspired by my mother pushing me to start dating (and eventually get married) again. Hard pass, mom.

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