Much Ado About ?

The knock at the door startled him, as did whom he saw when he opened it. "Hey, Reg. Kinda late. Everything OK?"

"Well, you know, Becker, I was in the mood for Chinese food, so I went to Ming's and then I remembered how much you liked it, so I thought maybe, uh, you might like some Chinese food, too." She knew she was rambling, but for some odd reason, she couldn't stop herself.

"Oh, ah, actually, see, I'm," he held up his half empty carton of lo mein noodles. He was tripping over his own words now. Why did she seem to have that effect on him lately?

"Ah," she said. "You already ate."

"Yeah, but you were right, I was certainly in the mood for Chinese."

She looked at him somewhat sheepishly, hoping that, somehow, he might know the real reason for her late-night visit.

"Oh! So you want to come in or something?" Becker offered.

"Yeah, I think I do." She crossed the threshold into his apartment and stood patiently, holding her bag of Chinese food.

Becker closed the door and crossed his living room to join her. "What'd you want?"

She took a breath before beginning, hoping that she wasn't about to make a complete fool of herself. "OK, look. I've been thinking about some things, so I thought I'd just come over here and say it and get it over with."

"Say what?" Becker had been fighting his feelings for Regina Kostas for so long that he almost didn't dare hope she was about to say what he'd been wanting to say for years. Almost.

"You know how something can be right in front of your face and you never notice it? But then something happens to make you notice it and then you wonder why you never noticed it to begin with?"

Oh, I noticed you. "I never really noticed."

"Well, what I'm trying to say is . . . Becker, is there any chance you already know why I'm here?" Reggie asked, her eyes glistening.

"It was the food, right?" Come on, just say it, Reg! Before I pounce on you!

"No," the expression on her face betrayed her disappointment and confusion. "No, it's much more important than the food. It's, uh . . ." She looked everywhere except at him, knowing that if she did, she might blurt out that she loved him. "That chair. Have you always had that?"

"This? Yeah, yeah, I got it in my last divorce. I stole it from my wife's lawyer."

"See? That's the perfect example of what I'm talking about. That's a really nice chair." Her voice was quivering now. "A-and I've really never noticed it. I mean, that's an Eames chair; it's probably worth more than your car."

"This Chinese food's worth more than my car."

Reggie nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that's not my point."

"Yeah, wh-what is your point, Reg?" There's no way I'm making the first move. Not after she's made it clear in the past that she can barely stand me.

"That I've been here so many times and I've never really seen that chair. I mean, I've seen it, but I've never really seen it. Don't you see what I'm trying to say, Becker?"

"We're not really talking about the chair, are we?" he responded, still wondering why she had come knocking on his door. There had to more to it than wanting to share Chinese food. Was it possible that she wanted more . . . from him?

"Thank you," she said, relieved that she might not have to spell it out for him.

"So, what are we talking about?"

"Well, it's . . . uhh, how do I say this?"

He'd seen that look before. He'd seen a younger woman - a girl, really- look up at a man she should not have fallen in love with like that. If Reggie was having so much trouble getting the words out, he would have to give her a little push. "You don't have to, Reg. There's something I've been wanting to - aw, hell." He strode the two steps to close the distance between them and kissed her, softly at first, then with the passion that had been mounting between them for years. "Is that what you were trying to say, Reg?"

She was too stunned to say anything, so she just smiled up at him and brought his lips back down to meet hers.

It wasn't until the next morning that they managed to share the food Reggie had brought with her.

XXXX

"Mmm, morning, Becker," Reggie murmured as she stretched her long legs beneath the covers and cuddled close to him.

"Morning, Reg. You know, morning doesn't seem so crappy with you here."

"Gee, Becker, I think that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me," she deadpanned.

"Come on, Reg. You know me. What'd you expect? A sonnet at 5:30 in the morning?"

"Meh, a girl can dream, can't she?"

"Hey, Reg? What finally got you to admit . . . how you feel about me?"

"Well, if I'm totally honest, it was seeing you all wound up about Chris going out of town." She tried to hide her face so he wouldn't see her blushing.

"Oh, th-that. Yeah. I don't know why I did that. She's always so damned perky."

"Hmph. Yeah, she's an optimist. She sees the good in everything. Complete opposite of you," she jabbed him playfully.

He flipped her onto her back and kissed her. "You think so? Well, I can find the good in you."

"And I'm glad I can give you something to smile about."

XXXX

OK, there you have it. It bothered me for years that, on the show, Becker wound up with Chris. No, no, no, no, no, just . . . NO! He belongs with Reggie! Anyway, my 'apologies' for the fluff. That's sort of the way it went when I started writing it. I couldn't really help myself.