Page 166 of The Menagerie

It’s quiet for a few moments. Rowan listens to Mal breathe softly on the other end of the line. He wonders if Mal’s still on the couch or if he’s moved. Maybe he’s sitting up in bed right now, back against the headboard and legs crossed at the ankles.

He wants to ask him where he is, what he’s doing, what he’s wearing—to paint a better picture for himself as they talk. But he’s too worried that it would sound like he’s trying to start something, and something else comes out anyway.

“Why’d you wanna do a scene with him?” Rowan blurts.

The question maybe catches Mal off guard, because he takes a long few seconds to respond.

“’Cause I needed to see.”

“See what?”

“If you and I actually had somethin’ real or not.”

Rowan’s pulse hammers in his veins.

“And do we?”

It’s hard to keep the edge of hopefulness out of his voice. He wonders if Mal can hear it anyway.

“Uh… yeah.”

His heart soars. Maybe Sheila was right after all.

Rowan wonders if it’s easier for Mal to talk like this. Talk aboutfeelingswhen they’re not face-to-face. Merely voice-to-voice with miles of space between them.

“He never…,” Mal starts, backtracking almost and taking a deep breath that crackles through the phone. “He never used to be like that. Never ignored a word like that before.”

The moment before is barely acknowledged, but Rowan will take it anyway.

“You said you used to have people watch you a lot. What was different this time?”

“Prob’ly you bein’ there. You’ve got a… vibe, man.”

“A vibe?”

“Like… a presence, I guess.”

“Mal, are you saying I’ve got Big Dick Energy?”

Mal covers his laugh with a scoff. “Fuck off, Red. You know what I mean.”

It’s not pride or ego that makes Rowan agree with it. He and Steven clashed from the second he met the guy.

“So you think he was jealous? Why?”

“New situation, I guess?” Mal asks more than says. “Never really had anyone there that pulled my attention more than him.”

It’s the highest of compliments.

The blue threads continue to pile up as Rowan asks, “But everything else was the same besides that?”

“Yeah. It was the same shit we always did. Talked to me the same way when we were actively scening as he did the other night. Fuck,youtalk to me like that. Just… felt different. Wrong, I guess. Can’t explain it, man.”

Rowan thinks that he probably can.

“So where do you wanna go from here?” Rowan asks.

“Whaddya mean?”

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