Work Text:
Patti thinks Jerry has changed.
His perfectly styled hair, melancholic baritone, absent gaze. As if someone else were in his place. As if he wasn't the one sitting next to her right now, drinking coffee at their favorite cafe.
Patti feels like something is wrong.
Jerry is constantly tense, frowning, sitting in his director's chair. Talking about something in a whisper with his subordinates so that she cannot hear.
Patti thinks that Jerry no longer treats her the way he used to.
He is no longer embarrassed by accidentally touching her hand, does not hide his eyes when she looks at him directly, tells strange things, as if he trusts her with something he didn't trust before.
Patti is sure that Jerry has simply grown up.
He is standing in front of the mirror, trying to straighten his tie, but he can't. Patti thinks she sees big tanned hands in the mirror, which help by tying a neat knot. Hands that slide over Jerry's neck and shoulders, drawing intricate patterns.
Patti thinks she hears low laughter.
She suddenly jumps up from her seat and walks towards him. Jerry catches her gaze in the mirror with his own, raising his eyebrows. Patti turns him around to face her, deftly ties his tie and, trying not to look him in the eye, tells him not to be late for work.
The laughter stops immediately.
Patti feels like she's lost her mind.
Jerry thanks her and smiles so sweetly and warmly that it's impossible to look at him.
Patti hates Dean.