Long Distance, Person to Person

by LavernaG

Summary:

Two phone calls between Oliver and Loretta while she's working in LA.

Notes:

Believe it or not, I had a draft for this story ready before season 4 came out, but I only finished writing it now. Both of the topics discussed in these two chapters were handled differently in season 4, so I guess, all of this goes against canon, but I'm giving y'all an alternative anyway.

Chapter 1: Scene

If there was something to be said for long distance relationships, except for them enabling some long overdue dreams to come true, Oliver and Loretta had yet to figure out what it was. Living, for the time being, on the other side of the country from one anther certainly had its pros and cons; however, at least communication was never a problem for them—not after they had established that Loretta was not a murderer and Oliver did, in fact, believe in her quite profoundly. In the age of social media and livestreams and face-time, they were clearly something of dinosaurs, and although texting came as easily as breathing to them now, they were most comfortable with good old-fashioned phone calls.

Which is why a call from LA late in the evening was a happily anticipated one in one of the most talked-about buildings in New York City.

"Hi, Oliver."

"Why, hello, honey!" Oliver twittered back, shuffling around his kitchen with Winnie's dinner and balancing his phone between his cheek and his shoulder. "You won't believe what a proper pickle Charles got us into today. It was absolutely mortifying!"

He set down the food bowl in front of the dog, muttering a tender, "There you go, baby," her way before clasping his phone again.

"Sometimes I could just strangle that man, but you know, in a friendly way, like Julie did to Carol Burnett that evening we were out at Sardi's and they'd had a few cocktails. Did I tell you about this?" he gushed over the forlorn sigh at the other end of the line. "We were playing I Spy with Rex Harrison and I said-"

Oliver stopped himself, suddenly feeling terrible. "Are you okay?"

There was a surprised gulp at the other end of the line. "Oh, no-no, you can finish your story," Loretta said generously, but a certain lack of a lilt in her voice gave away her secret weariness.

The pinching urge to tell his trivial story washed clean off him, and distractedly Oliver moved over to his study. "Well, I can finish it some other day. What's wrong?"

Oliver could almost see Loretta fiddling with the end of one of her braids. "N-Nothing's wrong exactly," she drawled. "I just wanted to talk to you about something."

Oliver took a seat in the armchair across from his desk, heavily but perched on the edge of his seat, expecting the worst—whatever that might be. "I-I- I'm listening," he said, his mind spiralling to remember whether he had done something that could have possibly upset his beloved partner in the two days since their last conversation.

"Now, don't sound so serious." The warm chuckle that reached Loretta's voice greatly eased Oliver's apprehension. "Everything's fine," she assured him, "and I do want to hear about Charles and everything you've been getting up to, it's just that- I'm reading the edited script for tomorrow's shoot and-" It seemed she had arrived at the root of her problem, and her confidence waned ever so slightly. "Well, I told you they were looking to develop a love interest for my character."

Although Oliver wanted to leap with joy at the revelation that whatever was weighing on Loretta's mind had to do with her work and not with their relationship, all he really did was relax back into his accustomed whimsy. "So you did," he confirmed, and adopting a comically ominous voice, recalled, "They wanted a mysterious shady man from the past."

"That's right," Loretta snickered, but then took a steadying breath. "Well. They want me to do a- a kissing scene tomorrow. Is that okay?"

Lost for words at her straightforward seriousness, Oliver sputtered incoherently for a moment. He was entirely astonished and, frankly, hopelessly enamoured with Loretta, who would confess to and worry about a make-believe kiss that hadn't even happened yet. What a vast improvement she was on his ex-wife who had kept a whole life-altering affair a secret from him for decades.

"Wh- Y- uh, yeah, no, that's all right I guess."

"Are you sure?" Loretta asked with earnest concern, as if it was in her power to change anything about the script or request a Sazz for herself. Oliver supposed she either hadn't had enough experience to learn to set firm boundaries between work and personal life—God knows she had poured her whole heart into their musical—or she had never been caught in the middle of a meaningful relationship and a potentially risqué order at work before.

Even though her endearing consideration made Oliver want to perform a kissing scene with her right that minute, Oliver had to pull himself together. He realized, all of a sudden, the pressing need to reassure Loretta in her already terrifying new period of life and career that he would be one hundred percent behind her in everything she did and that, once again, her career would not be an obstacle in their relationship.

"Loretta, I'm very grateful that you asked me," he said, wrapping up his bursting pride in a serious but warm tone. "But you don't have to worry—at all. It's your job and I know that it's just that."

Her body was her tool to work with and he didn't have any claim on it, nor did he want to. He wanted to see his Loretta thrive and be free to stretch her wings. They had been folded up on her beautiful back for far too long. "You've got my permission," he added fondly.

Loretta gave a shuddering sigh, and smiled an audibly relieved smile. "Thanks. I feel much lighter now."

"Is the actor at least good looking?" Oliver chose to divert the conversation cheekily, watching as Mrs. Gambolini, who had been granted parole for the evening on the promise of good behaviour and clean vocabulary—and on account of Oliver feeling a tad lonesome before Loretta's call—strutted into view.

"Oh," Loretta responded with a low chuckle. "He's… all right, I guess."

"Oh, is he now?" Oliver teased sweetly, making Loretta giggle like a girl caught taping a poster of Elvis onto her bedroom ceiling.

"So how have you been?" This time Loretta provided the sharp change in topic, relieved at getting the first order of business out of the way.

"Cussed at by Mrs. Gambolini on a daily basis," Oliver deadpanned.

"Eat shit."

Oliver heard Loretta fall over on what must have been either her bed or a couch, laughing heartily when she heard Mrs. Gambolini's pointed reply through the phone. Oliver gave a disapproving grunt, but he couldn't really be miffed as he was imagining Loretta kicking her feet in the air.

"Did you eat anything besides dips today?" Loretta asked through her mirth.

"I made myself a salad," Oliver announced proudly, but his pet seemed determined to betray him.

"Fuck off, Oliver!"

"A small salad."

Mrs. Gambolini warbled eagerly when Oliver squinted at him warningly.

"I had two leaves of lettuce," Oliver surrendered and caught Loretta's fond chuckle.

"Oliver, you promised," she scolded him gently.

Oliver ran a hand through his hair, sighing. It wasn't as if he hadn't tried to revert back to a normal diet after his recent health crisis, no matter how light-heartedly he tried to take the situation. "I know, I just- It's really hard when you're not here."

There was a contemplative little pause before Loretta muttered, "I miss you, too."

Chapter 2: Credits

Although the pair of them sometimes chattered away into the small hours, it was evident to both Loretta and Oliver that there were some things that should be said face-to-face and moments when a video call wouldn't suffice. There really was nothing that could replicate the feeling of holding each other's hand or running their fingers through the familiar fascinating silk of the other's hair. But, as fate would have it, one of those precious conversations was thrust upon them by none other than Loretta's very own acting dream, with no time to fly over to the East coast to have it.

Like most evenings, Loretta was on the phone to Oliver, recounting her day after having established that none of her New York friends had been murdered, kidnapped, or arrested since the last time they spoke. "… and the audition went really well."

"But that's great, honey, that's- that's… I'm so happy for you." She couldn't really mind the stuttering regret in Oliver's voice that he was determinedly trying to disguise. If she got another part, it would mean staying in LA longer than she had planned.

"Thanks. They're not a hundred percent decided yet, though, so…" Loretta tried to smooth Oliver's sense of abandonment, although the outlook was pretty bleak. "I'm not sure yet when I'm coming home."

Her sympathy had its effect, however, because at the encouraging reminder that Loretta considered being near him to be her home, Oliver dragged himself out of his pit of self-pity and reassumed his familiar enthusiastic tone. "Well, what's there to decide?" he wondered. "Are they gonna have another round of auditions? Are they blind?"

One of the many things she loved about Oliver was his knack for making her laugh all the time, and even now that the absurd predicament she found herself in was weighing on her she couldn't help chuckling as she explained, "No, it's- It's not that, it's… Well…" Loretta gave a shrug that no one would see and revealed, "They didn't like my name."

"They what?" Oliver reacted with amused disbelief.

His easy-going reaction was a relief to Loretta, confirming that she hadn't plummeted into any deep waters she didn't want to tread on the phone. She laughed and openly elaborated, "Yeah, they told me that Durkin in the credits didn't sound fetching enough for their audience, or whatever. They said it sounded like a name for a fast food chain."

"Well, they don't know a thing," Oliver shot back with protective assertiveness.

"Right," Loretta chuckled, glad to have an ally.

After the first amusement had worn off, though, he sounded almost as baffled as she had felt when the producers had told her to consult her publicist and do something about her last name. "W-well, what are you gonna do?"

More than once throughout the day Loretta had been struck by the single ridiculously clear and obvious solution to her situation but also by the tragic misfortune of being stuck on the other side of the country from her Ollie rather than having him kneeling in front of her—which was, of course, nothing more than wishful thinking. It was the kind of thinking she hadn't let herself indulge in for years and which, as experience told her, men never partook in.

"Um…" She became serious as she started chasing the evasive, more reasonable solution she hadn't given enough thought to yet. "Dickie and I are gonna come up with something tomorrow, I guess. I hope! I mean, I've got nothing! I'm not going to assume a stage name at my age, am I?"

"Well, no, but you could… change your name," Oliver said softly.

There was a breathless pause as Loretta took in his suggestion. She wished desperately that she could see Oliver and read his mind in his expression, to find assurance of what exactly he was telling her. She didn't want to assume anything that wasn't there and yet she didn't believe Oliver would have said it so poignantly if he hadn't meant for her to hear the hint.

Amazed at how quickly he was ready to offer this solution, as if he had made up his mind to ask her before now, almost as if there had been no deciding involved at all, Loretta asked hesitantly, "Wha- What- What do you mean? Just change…"

At the other end of the line, Oliver gathered his courage. "Would Loretta Putnam sound more fetching?"

Loretta drew in a soft gasp as her ridiculously beautiful dreams all fell into place. These last few months with Oliver all seemed like a perfect fairytale now, and the strong, passionate love that she felt for her Ollie was something she had never experienced before. Her heart ready to burst with happiness, she hurried to break the breathless tension that had settled between them.

"Yeah, I think it would," she accepted him quietly, all of a sudden determined not to say "yes" until he asked her properly.

A part of her regretted ruining Oliver's chance to surprise her with his proposal. On the other hand, she was convinced that if he had had a plan for it, he would have already put it into motion. Oliver was a man who wanted everything now, impatient and alive, and Loretta admired him for his ability to jump into a decision and on to action, to turn this situation around and refuse to hesitate because of the unorthodox setting. When had anything about their relationship ever been even vaguely conventional?

From the moment they had met, Oliver had taken on the role of her personal good luck charm, and it seemed that fulfilling her dreams had become his dream. He had even turned this momentous turning point in their relationship into a vessel for her dreams, and Loretta loved him for it even more.

After a long pause, his voice heavy with radiant gratitude, Oliver concluded their decision, "Good."

"Yeah," Loretta whispered back, and that night, thousands of miles apart, two people who would never have to feel alone again fell asleep completely happy.

---

"What makes you think you'll be my best man?"

"Who else?" Charles retorted, gesturing around the Arconia elevator as if someone was liable to appear. "You don't exactly have a lot of male friends."

"I have Will," Oliver pointed out emphatically.

"That's not fair."