Can you Unzip Me?

A/N: Random Reba stuff. Set after first episode, one chapter.

Reba trudged up the stairs after what had been one of the longest days of her life. The fact that her marriage had broken up had just hit her, her daughter had married her boyfriend because she was pregnant and Brock's pregnant mistress had come to the wedding. Needless to say, Reba was quite stressed. All she felt like doing was getting out of her mother-of-the-bride dress and taking a bath. That was exactly what she was going to do.

Reba closed the door of her bedroom behind her and reached for the zipper on her dress.

It was stuck.

Of all the things that could happen right now, her zipper would not come down. Footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs, as Reba jumped up and down, holding onto the zipper, trying desperately to loosen it. Someone knocked on her bedroom door.

"Just a second," Reba called to the anonymous knocker. She opened the door slowly, revealing her soon to be ex-husband on the other side.

"Reba, we have to talk." Brock spoke calmly, trying to lure her into having a conversation.

"Sure. Come in." Reba moved aside letting him into her bedroom, their bedroom. Brock sat on the bed, smoothing the comforter next to him as he began to talk.

"I'm sorry I brought BJ."

"Me too." Reba laughed softly at her own joke.

"C'mon Reba."

"Sorry." She sat next to him on the bed. "Apology accepted."

"Thank you." Brock put his hand on her back gently. His hand moved up to rub her shoulder as he sensed the tension that she was holding. Reba smiled, appreciating the small but kind gesture, even if it was from Brock. They sat like that for just about five minutes, until Brock got up to go.

"Oh, Brock?"

"Yea, honey?" Brock instantly regretted what came out of his mouth.

"Can you unzip me?" It was an innocent question; one Reba would even ask a mere acquaintance. A Question that she had asked Brock so many times before. Brock stopped for a second, confused, before nodding.


He fingered the small zipper pull, beginning to move it slowly down ward, catching it on the spot where Reba had not been able to get it past. "It's stuck." He whispered in her ear.

"I know." She whispered back. "Just pull." Brock pulled a little harder on the zipper. He discovered that the zipper was stuck in the fabric. To get it out he'd have to physically remove it. He reached his hand tentatively behind the zipper to pull the piece of fabric out, having to caress his ex-wife's back at the same time. Reba's heart began to race.

Brock was sweating.

He didn't know why touching her in such an innocent way was making his palms sweat, he only wanted to know if her shallower breathing meant she was feeling the same thing.

She was.

But she was also wondering what would happen when he finally got the dress fully unzipped. The moment was coming. Reba could feel the fabric ripping free from the zipper, and Brock's hand returning quickly to the outside of her dress. Reaching once again for the zipper pull, Brock lowered it slowly downward. When it reached the bottom, Brock's mind told him to walk away, but his feet were telling him different. Here they stood, both hearts pounding, Reba with her dress unzipped, Brock not able to move away. Finally Reba spoke.

"Thanks." She said, as she turned to face him. "You can go now." She smiled.

"I…" Brock grabbed for his words. When nothing came out he reached to move a piece of curled hair from Reba's cheek. The movement was sentimental and completely unnerving at the same time. Reba felt as if her heart had stopped beating.

"Brock…" She whispered, cut off by his finger coming to her lips, telling her not to move, not to protest what was going on, whatever it was. Brock leaned foreword, as he placed a hand on her now bare back. The touch made him lose control of his heart.

They kissed.

A totally unexpected accident. Felt from their hair to their toes. A tingling ran down their spines, a feeling they used to experience all the time. The two stood there kissing like there was no Barbara Jean, no accidental baby, no teenage pregnancy, and no married teens. They were whole, if only for that moment. A perfect couple for one moment of bliss.

Reba's hands ran up Brock's back to his hair. His hands moved inside the back of her dress, caressing her delicate skin cautiously, like she would break if he touched her too hard. Reba was the one to break the kiss. She raised a finger next to their faces to hush the passion. She looked into Brock's eyes, realizing where they stood in their lives. There was a Barbara Jean and she was pregnant. Her teenage daughter was married and pregnant in her senior year of high school. Brock was gone and she shouldn't be standing here with her dress halfway off kissing him like this.

"Brock. You should go." She choked out, tears threatening to fall. Her mind raced thinking about the fact that she didn't want it to stop, she never wanted him to leave. Like old times she wanted this to lead to something more, as if they were still married, and though her heart was screaming "Yes!" her mind was screaming "No!" so her heart wouldn't be broken when he did finally leave again.

"No, I really shouldn't." He whispered breathlessly in her ear, reaching for the top of the long sleeve of her dress. He leaned his head down and kissed her neck.

"We can't" Reba said leaning her head away from his tempting kiss.

Inside, she was screaming.

This is all she could have hoped for, all she could have wanted, and all she couldn't have. This is what she would have to stop before it got out of hand and she had some explaining to do. Before she became the mistress to the mistress. Before she became so involved that she couldn't let go.

"Yes we can…" He pulled the sleeve down and kissed her softly as the dress fell noiselessly to the floor at her feet.

"No, you have to go. We can't do this." Reba began to cry, her tears wetting down Brock's shirt as she muffled her words in his chest. "Please, don't do this to me." This was tearing out her heart, silent torture for her whole human form.

"I'm sorry, Reba. So sorry." He didn't know what he was sorry for, or why he would apologize when not a bone in his body was sorry for what he was doing. He wanted to ignore her desperate pleas, to go on like he knew they both wanted, but that wasn't an option. So Brock kissed her a final time, a passion-filled parting kiss, and walked out of their bedroom, out of their marriage, for the last time. He left Reba standing there, alone, afraid and crying, Her dress draped around her ankles and her mascara running down her cheeks. This was a vulnerable side of Reba that few got to see. And all for a simple question: Can you unzip me?

A/N: Dumb, I know, but that's what happens. I know Reba's hair wasn't long enough for a piece to be hanging on her cheek, but I felt like that should be there. So it was. Let me know what YOU think, regardless of what your thought is. Reviews for my random ramblings designed to entertain my sick little mind are greatly appreciated!