Standard Goodbyes

"Well, Moss," said Roy. "You blew it."

Roy was right. Staring at the desk, pulling tissues furiously out of a tissue box and piling them up on his keyboard, Moss felt like he'd blown a lot more than, well, that little bit of snot from a few minutes ago, which he'd been careful not to let anyone else see. He'd never felt guilt like this...like a deep abyss had opened up inside him, sinking and sinking. He felt like he could shrink eternally like Ant-Man, like he'd best be disposed of in some quantum realm, never to be seen again...

"You're right, Roy," said Moss. "I fudged up. I ruddy fudged up and it's all over. If I'd told you about it earlier I could have completely avoided this, but now we're here and she hates me and I'm going to die! I'm literally going to die!"

"You're not going to die," said Jen. "You didn't die when Roy stole that therapist from you, and that was a hell of a lot worse than whatever this is."

"Hey..." said Roy.

"But there's nothing going on officially between you two; it was just a one-night stand. You can get over it. It'll be fine. Just make sure that you make it clear that you never want it to happen again, for professional purposes."

"You see, that's what you don't understand, Jen!" Moss exclaimed. "I've been trying to tell you for days and days now, but Roy's been all caught up in his conspiracy theories and you're the boss and I just..."

"I think I know where this is going," said Roy.

"Let me finish, Roy!"

Moss stood up, defiantly, and tore the tissue box in half. Well, he almost tore it in half. He gave up and threw it on the floor, and stomped on it, and then stomped on it again, because he missed the first time. And then he stopped for a moment, and straightened his tie. This was his one time to say it...No, never mind. He shouldn't say it. But he was pretty angry...why not?

"I..." he sputtered out, clenching his fists. "I...I'm really ruddy pissed at you, Roy. I've been pissed at you for a quite a few days now. Here we are with this new addition to the team that's the absolute greatest, as in real special, as in a once in a lifetime human woman who knows a ton about computers and superheroes and writing, and...and all you can do is make up things about her, and talk about all these conspiracies, and...I suppose I'm just the same, because now that I've done what I've always wanted to do, and told her what I wanted to tell her, it's just going to turn out the same way it always does for little old Maurice Moss and women. Except this time, it's a big deal, Roy. Because I actually did like this one, in the way you're supposed to like people. And I just keep fudging it up."

Moss let out a long breath, and looked at the floor. Roy cocked his head and looked at Jen, who hesitated.

"So what actually happened last night?" Jen asked. "Because she seemed pretty upset this morning."

Moss sighed and straightened his tie again. "We had a good conversation about snickerdoodles. We went back to her apartment. We had quite a bit of vodka, and..." He felt his face go hot. "And she told me she fancied me, and asked if I would like to reenact Fifty Shades, but we were rather lacking in the correct materials—"

"Okay, not all the details," said Jen.

"And then this morning, she was extremely upset, and..." His voice suddenly went quiet. "Regretful that any of it had happened. Which makes me regretful that it happened—"

"I'm glad we're on the same page then," said a voice.

Moss turned to see none other than Imogene storming from the office door to her desk. She threw a bunch of papers into her backpack and wiped her nose with one hand. When she turned around, her face was stern, and she refused to meet his eyes. She pushed her slipping glasses back up onto her nose with resolution. There was another pang of guilt in Moss' stomach. He'd done it again. How could he? It was excruciating. All their interactions before this had been so careful, so gentle, and now he felt like he could only stumble through them, like he was still as drunk and disoriented as the night before.

"I have to go back to America," she said.

Never mind. This was worse. He was definitely going to die.

"My dad is selling the company tomorrow, and I have to go stop it. And I won't be coming back. It's for the best. I'm sorry."

"Oh no," said Jen. "Im, what about your stuff—"

"Just take it. I won't be needing it. I just need to go."

"Are you leaving the computer?" Roy asked. "Because those Synapses are—"

"It doesn't matter. I just need to go."

Jen looked lost. "Can I at least get a goodbye hug?"

Imogene glanced at Moss, who felt frozen solid. His breath caught in his throat. Even when he was so wracked with guilt, even when he knew she was this mad at him, even when he knew this would probably be the last time he'd ever see her again, he felt the same way about her as he always had. It was like the whole rest of the world stopped when she looked at him.

Her arms wrapped around Jen and squeezed, and then wrapped around Roy as if he were covered in sweaty barbed wire, and all Moss heard was goodbye, goodbye and he watched her lips tighten and her eyes flare and a few strands of hair slip out from behind her ear, and then she was standing in front of him, and when she stretched her arms out for him it all happened so slowly. Her hair still smelled like green apples and even the quick brush of her shoulders felt soft and warm. Their embrace was stiff, and he found himself aching for how they'd held each other the night before, when they'd melted into each other so seamlessly.

When she pulled away he didn't realize he'd been squeezing her. Their eyes met, and he noticed for the first time the golden flecks in her big brown eyes.

"Are you going to say goodbye?" he asked.

And then she was gone.

"That was painful," said Roy.

"Absolutely tragic," said Jen. "Moss, I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, Jen," Moss choked out.

There was a long moment of silence. Then, almost as though nothing had happened—meaning, something had definitely just happened—Moss sat down at his desk.

"I guess I'll get back to work," he said, with resignation.

Roy and Jen looked at each other. Jen motioned for Roy to come into her office. They shuffled their way inside and shut the door.

Roy sat down at the desk and Jen propped herself up against the door, her arms crossed, very businesslike.

"You're his best friend," said Jen. "What do we do about it?"

"I don't know," Roy sighed. "You're a woman; what do we do about it?"

"Oh, Roy, enough of that," she snapped. "It's frankly pretty sexist." She leaned forward. "I have the sense that something's been driving you up the wall. And I think I know what it is. It's not the whole conspiracy with Prophecy, it's something else."

She narrowed her eyes at Roy, who recoiled. Her face looked a little weird like that.

"You're jealous, Roy. You like Imogene too, and you're jealous that Moss got to her first."

Roy was taken aback. "That's not true."

Jen looked at him for a long time. Finally, Roy softened.

"Okay, maybe it was. But it didn't last very long. I don't know if you've noticed, but she and Moss have been practically super-glued together since she got here. And she's not really my type, anyway, even though, you know, I'll take what I can get."

"So...maybe you're not jealous of Moss, then."

"No, not really. Especially after their little Pride and Tragedus moment in there."

"But you are jealous."

"Yeah."

He shouldn't have said that. His eyes grew shifty as Jen pursed her lips.

"Aww, that's so middle school. You're jealous that your friend has started dating and you're out of the picture, aren't you?"

"Out of the picture? Well, you don't have to put it like that."

"But that is what's going on, isn't it?"

"No!" Roy sighed. "Okay, maybe a little."

"And you thought that if you invented this whole conspiracy, maybe you could get him back?"

"What are you, a bloody psychotherapist?"

"No, Roy." She put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm a friend."

Roy looked down at the ground. "I really screwed it all up, didn't I? I mean, maybe if I hadn't made her feel so unwelcome...maybe he'd have talked to me about it, and he wouldn't have gotten himself into this mess."

"You're right," said Jen, sitting next to him on the desk. "He could have talked to either of us about it. We've given him so much advice in the past. I don't know why this time was different. I feel like now I remember a few times he almost tried..."

"Yeah, me too."

"I just don't know how to help either of them now. I mean, they clearly go together so well, but there's just...I don't understand it."

Roy lit up. "Maybe if we organized some romantic gesture for them? Like in her favorite movies?"

"I don't know. If she doesn't want to see him, that might scare her off." Jen's eyes widened and she turned to Roy. "Then again..."

"She is going to the airport."