Title: we're bursting bubbles till we explode
Fandom: significant mother
Rating: teen
Length: ~600 words
Author notes: post-canon reaction fic, background ships, new fandom, title from boxed wine's into the nite

“I need to tell you something.”

“I already agreed to the cucumber-vinegar double date love, not to worry,” Atticus says. “Jimmy’s not so great at it, but I know Lydia will be. And that’s half the fun, isn’t it?”

Sam laughs, soft and pixie-like and he can’t help a frown. Her laugh is usually bigger, fills the room, reserved means- “What’s troubling you?”

“Bossman,” she swallows, “Nate kissed me.”

He sits down on their couch, heart racing, as he forces the question, “Did you want him to?”

“What?” Sam’s eyes go wide, and she sits quickly, taking his hands in hers, “No! Of course not, he was high and it surprised me and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before. I just… I know how much he buys from the farm.”

Atticus wets his lips, needs a breath before he speaks too quick, says something pointed he doesn’t mean. Rain pounds onto the roof, and tomorrow’s going to be a long mud-filled day. “You thought money would matter more to me?”

“No! I mean- it was a mistaken drug-fueled kiss, it doesn’t matter to me and I didn’t want it to matter for us.”

“And did you tell Nate that?”

Sam looks down, “Eventually.”

Atticus sighs, doesn’t know what to say. The old worries are coming back, and he really thought things with Sam were different. Five new moons, and she practically lives on the farm, he thought she was here for good. But he’s always been one to fall hard, wants all types of love to fill his life, easy and joyful.

“At first Nate was pretending it didn’t happen, but then he brought it up again so I told him. I just, I want to keep my job- how many places would let a waitress write country songs all afternoon?”

“Here.”

Sam kisses him, “I love you, but you know I can’t make new music here.”

“But you can with Nate.” The bitterness slips past his tongue, and he needs to meditate tonight, to re-center himself.

“Oh hon, Nate and Lydia and Jimmy- they inspire because they’re an absolute mess.”

“A mess you are at least two-thirds open to having sex with.”

“You still want that foursome then?”

Atticus chuckles, bopping her nose. “You’re trying to distract me love.”

She exhales, squeezing his fingers. “Look there’s a reason I did a cover of Nate-y’s Mom, and it wasn’t just for my Fountains of Wayne addiction. Nate’s never been the boy for me. I don’t even think I could be real friends with him outside of work- it’s why he’s easiest to put into songs. He’s mutable, y’know? I don’t mind making him a caricature or exaggerating his faults.”

Atticus rubs his thumb over her slim knuckles, bird bones, he thinks fondly. “I didn’t know you felt that way about your writing.”

“I’ll admit it was a recent discovery aided by Jimmy’s Introspection Pale Ale.”

“And you don’t even like ipas.”

Sam smiles, “I don’t. Writing your song took forever, didn’t sound like mine in the end, because I wanted it to be this perfect encapsulation of how you make me feel.”

He kisses her, can feel his soul vibrate in his bones. “Thank you for telling me. About the writing, Nate, all of it.”

Sam slips into his lap, toys with his hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“I forgive you,” he pronounces, slow and serious. Asking about the why can come later, the moon is already singing her siren song. “Shall we make love in the rain tonight, the stars clouded over and naught but each other to stay warm?”

Sam grins wide, wriggles in his lap. “That sounds wonderful.”