"HE BOUGHT HIM AN ENTIRE GAMING SYSTEM, JAYNE! Just because the game wasn't available on the one my parents bought for him. And-and-and—He got Remy to take his medicine! Can you believe that, I have to fight with him every time he gets sick, but just one word and he's drank half the bottle!"

Jayne smiled from where she was toying with her salad, looking at Birdie from over her desk. "Honey, I think you're jealous."

Birdie scoffed, running a hand through her hair. She had been swamped with files and appointments, having hit a crossroads with one of her clients that she had taken, and had been narrowly saved from accidentally neglecting herself by Jayne who had shoved away all of her work, shoving a fast food bag into her hands, forcing her to eat.

"I'm not jealous," she snapped, taking a harsh bite of her burger, "I'm just...confused, is all. Surprised. When he said that he wouldn't leave Remy, I didn't think he'd show up two days later to buy him a game console and take care of him when he's sick."

"How is the little guy, by the way?" Jayne asked, her almost mocking expression turning to one of pity, "When he gets sick, he's out for a while, poor baby. You should take some time off, take care of him."

Birdie sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Okay, even you know that that's not how this works. Also, I have to provide for him."

Jayne pursed her lips, nodding. "Yeah, of course." 'Though you don't always have to work so late,' she added silently to herself.

The older woman sighed and rubbed her temples, taking a deep breath. "I'm just...I don't know how to feel about any of this. It's not as if I'm upset he's trying to insert himself into our lives, but he is and it's strange."

"Well, of course it's going to be strange, he might be the father of your child," Jayne said, taking a bite of her salad, "And you haven't seen him since New Year's 2006, it's going to be weird having him in your home and interacting with your kid, but you asked him to stay."

"I just don't want Remy to run away from me too," she confessed, slumping forward, "He doesn't even call Mark his dad anymore, doesn't acknowledge any of the things they used to do together. If I let him just keep searching, he's gonna end up running away from me too."

Jayne tried not to let her thoughts show on her face. She loved Birdie, she really did, but her friend, in an effort to take care of her son, often forgot that she was often away from him most times of the day. If anything, he didn't need to run away to be away from her.

"Well, you should just go see a movie with him. Just the two of you, so he doesn't think you're abandoning him too while he's off with Tony Stark. It's still so weird to say, he just goes into your house. He's a celebrity, a world hero," Jayne gushed, her serious tone melting away into one of awe and delight.

Birdie rolled her eyes fondly as she fell back into her seat, tilting her head towards the ceiling, letting the back of her chair dig into her neck. "There's so much to do and I'm just paralyzed, I can't work on anything because I want to work on everything."

"You were always able to handle it, Birdie, this time's no different," Jayne said, reaching out to squeeze her hand, "You just need to relax."

"How do I do that?" Birdie asked, and while her tone was exasperated, it was clear that she honestly didn't have a clue.

Jayne pursed her lips in thought as she looked at her best friend, wishing she could help her, ease some of the tension, but Birdie had to do all of this by herself, there was no one else who could do it.

"I was gonna say you should call Wilma and you and the kids could have a picnic, invite your parents and everyone, but Remy's sick, so you're gonna just have to raincheck on that for now," the blonde said, taking another bite of her salad, "But here. How about I come over and I'll cook some spaghetti, we can just relax, I'll paint your nails, it'll be fun."

Birdie smiled down at her food. "That sounds really nice. Thank you, Jayne."

Ever since they had met, Jayne, whenever Birdie was stressed, would always go over and cook spaghetti and paint her nails. It wasn't something too big, just a simple bowl of pasta and the two sitting on whatever couch or bed they had at the time, talking or putting the TV on in the background, it didn't matter. It had followed them throughout the years and Birdie wasn't sure she would be where she was without it.

"Okay, I have to get back to work," the blonde said a few minutes later, standing and tossing her trash into the bin next to her chair, "But I'll see you later, okay? Just try to take it easy, don't worry too much over your work."

Birdie scoffed as she slid her chair back to face her computer, going back to her work. The idea of being able to just lie down and breathe got her through the rest of the day. That, and seeing her son again. She didn't say it often, as it was always implied, but Remy was the only thing that kept her going after Mark left.

But as much as she loved her son, there was something about him that scared her.

º º º

"Aunt Jayne, what're you doing here?"

The two women stepped inside the Walsh home later that day—night, really—exhausted but satisfied with their work. They looked up at the sound of Remy's voice, finding him padding down the hallway, dressed in his signature sweatshirt and sweatpants, a staple when he was sick.

"I'm making spaghetti for dinner," the younger woman said with a smile, walking towards him, "Are you feeling better, honey?"

He shook his head. "No. Tony was here a little while ago, mom, he says hi. And Stacey left hours ago, so can we fire her yet?"

Jayne stifled a laugh as she made her way to the pantry, letting Birdie deal with her son and his almost irrational distaste for his babysitter. She listened as Birdie sighed and stood in front of him, asking for reasons why they should fire her, telling him to avoid using the usual ones of 'she's the worst' and 'she doesn't know what she's doing,' which she had heard before.

"We have Tony now," he said, shocking both women, "We don't need her if he's around."

Birdie sighed and turned towards the kitchen where Jayne was peering out, making a face as they inwardly panicked. Turning back to her son, Birdie tried to find the right words to explain the situation, finding it difficult with the naive look on his face, unable to tell if it was genuine or not.

"Remy...we can't ask that of Tony," she said, giving him a small smile, "We can't ask him to just drop everything he's doing to watch over you every day, he has work too. And, yeah, he can drop by a lot, but we can't just depend on him to, it's not fair to him."

It seemed that she still knew her son. She watched as realization came over him, frowning when she saw guilt cross his face.

"I didn't mean to—" he began, scuffing the floor with his socked foot, but she cut him off before the guilt could sink in.

"Of course you didn't, sweetie, and he wouldn't think you were being selfish if you asked," she said, brushing back his hair, "It makes sense why you'd think that, and there's nothing wrong with it, I just want you to understand, okay?"

He nodded, moving to hug her, now that she was bent over to his height. "Okay. Can Aunt Jayne paint my nails too?"

"Oh, honey, I'll paint your nails another time, tonight is just me and your mom's night, okay? But I'll paint them soon, I promise," Jayne called out quickly, before Birdie had the chance to reply, as she would have most likely agreed; if Remy was there, Birdie wouldn't talk about anything that was upsetting her, which was counterproductive to the whole reason why Jayne was there.

"Fine," he sighed, rubbing his eyes, "Can I skip dinner, I just wanna go to bed."

"You need to eat something, you can't skip meals, it's not healthy," Birdie said, "You can just rest until the food is ready."

"Why?" he whined, pouting and stomping his foot, "I'm not hungry!"

"You need to have at least something in your stomach," she pressed, her tone serious and even, "There are natural acids in your stomach that help with digestion and if you have nothing in your stomach, those acids are just breaking down the inner walls of your stomach, which can lead to stomach ulcers. I know you're sick, but at least eat a little, even if you're not hungry or can't eat a lot."

"You're a lawyer, what do you know about that?" he scoffed, pouting as he sat on the couch, relenting enough not to go back to his room.

Birdie rolled her eyes when her son wasn't looking. "I was a nurse before that, Remy, I went to medical school."

Remy tilted his head from his position on the couch, opening his mouth to ask her why she had stopped, but one look from Jayne who peered out from the kitchen had him staying quiet, extremely curious, but also more willing to stay alive.

"Take your medicine after dinner," Birdie said, and Remy whined loudly, to which she replied, "I'll call Tony and tell him not to come over."

"No!" the boy cried, bolting upright, only to fall back, his head spinning. "I want Tony to come over..."

Birdie sat down on the couch, smiling when Remy immediately crawled over to her, dropping his head into her lap. She ran her hand through his hair, the way she always did whenever he had trouble sleeping. She tried to get herself to stop, not wanting him to fall asleep, but she was a loving mother and her heart ached to see her son so sick; it made her feel helpless and that was a feeling she never wanted ever again.

"Dinner's ready!" Jayne called, carrying in a bowl of spaghetti and placing it on the table.

"Do we have garlic bread?" Remy asked groggily, raising his head and holding out his arms towards Birdie.

"What do you take me for?" Jayne whispered, coming back with a plate of garlic bread. She smiled as Remy cheered, Birdie carrying him over to the table, making a face; the boy was a lot heavier than he had been years before.

The three began eating almost immediately, Birdie and Jayne too tired and careful to speak in front of Remy, the boy trying to eat some of his food, but mostly just picking at it with his fork, trying to convince himself that it would be fine to have in his mouth and stomach.

"Can I go now?" Remy asked, having finished half of the food on his plate.

"Sure, honey. Here, drink your medicine first, then brush your teeth." Birdie stood and grabbed the bottle of the pantry, pouring the grape flavored liquid into the cup, sighing as Remy made a face, shuddering as he took the cup from her hands, a large glass of water in the other.

"That wasn't so hard," Jayne drawled, carrying the plates to the sink as Remy finished the entire glass of water, still making a face when he was done, "Now go brush your teeth, it's getting late."

"You're not my mom," he argued, though there was no bite behind it, rather a large yawn, "Night, mom, night, Aunt Jayne."

"Good night, Remy," the two women chorused, leaving the plates in the sink to soak, too tired to actually clean them.

"Not his mom, I raised that boy!" Jayne exclaimed, following the woman towards her room, shaking her head as they walked inside, the woman disappearing into the master bathroom for a moment, coming out with a bag full of nail polish.

"You accidentally gave him champagne instead of apple cider when he was nine, I'm not sure how good you are at your job," Birdie laughed, opening the bag and pulling out red nail polish.

"That shit was expensive, he better appreciate that," Jayne huffed, grabbing Birdie's hand and getting to work.

Having worked at a nail salon while they were in college, she knew exactly what to do, but couldn't do everything she usually did as Birdie didn't have all the tools. But she made do with what she had, just going ahead and starting to paint, giving the woman time to talk.

"It's odd to see Tony again, he's better looking than I last remembered," the woman mused sometime after she finished thoroughly complaining about the case she took on, Jayne already on her second coat.

The blonde stopped her movements, glancing up at her past the hair falling into her face. "You should bone again."

Birdie shouted, nearly spilling the bottle of nail polish onto her sheets. "Leave my home!"

"I'm serious, I agree, he looks so much better and since I'm married, you need to take one for the team," Jayne cried, grabbing the woman's hand so she could continue.

"I'm not thirty anymore, Jay, it's not gonna happen," she said, using the tone she always did when she wanted the other woman to stop, "Just drop it, I was just saying."

Any other time, the blonde would have hummed, so that her friend would laugh and they could joke like they used to, but Birdie was right, she wasn't thirty anymore and wounds were still too fresh. The joke she had made would have worked ten years ago, maybe even less, but now, it just mocked her, for so many reasons that, if thought about for too long, would send the older woman spiraling.

Jayne couldn't do that to her.

So she just continued to paint her nails and let Birdie calm down, hoping that the woman's thoughts weren't spiraling out of control. She reached over and grabbed the TV remote, turning it on, making sure that the noise drowned out whatever thoughts creeped in.

"Thank you, Jayne," she sighed, finally breaking the silence that had been only filled by the TV noise.

"Don't thank me," the blonde said, pulling away and admiring her work, "I just wanted you to relax."

Birdie's lips tugged upward. "But still, you don't have to. You never have to."

Jayne shrugged, giving her a smile so reminiscent of their younger years. "You can always count on me. Sisters before misters, you know?"

Birdie just smiled. Because she could always count on Jayne. No matter what happened or who came into her life, it was always Jayne and Birdie. Together forever 'til death do they part.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi, Birdie and Jayne are everything my cousin and I used to hope to be, but it seems that plan is ruined, but whatever, it's not like I'm upset or anything. Anyways! Sorry for the filler chapter, but I just really wanted to show some bonding between the two women, I know it wasn't really well written, but I thought it was needed.

That's all I have to say, so thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!