Chapter Text
“You do not.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Ken, that’s just impossible.”
“How can you tell me something that I know with my very own mind is possible?”
Barbie ponders that, and she has no retort. “Fine, okay, you win. You’re a better friend than me. I don’t remember the exact moment that we met. We had to have been so small. Like, three or four years old.”
“Not only do I remember, but it’s my first.” Ken curls a strand of her hair around his finger. They are laying, fully clothed and facing each other on the guest bed. The confession of missing each other led to reminiscing about strictly PG moments they’d shared and a lot of laughter. They didn’t know how much time had passed, and they didn’t seem to care how long they’d been absent from the party or what others thought they were up to in private.
“First, what?”
“First memory. It was like there was nothing, maybe fuzzy shapes and colors, and then there you are in high definition. You were wearing a bathing suit, black and white polka dots. Your hair was short and there was a white headband in your hair. You looked so uncomfortable and pouty and it was because your hands were sticky from a popsicle, and there was a lady cleaning off your face and hands.”
“My mom,” Barbie says softly. “I don’t have any memories of her. I think my first, clearest memory is of the doll house that Ruth had at her house. Maybe some snippets of my mom’s funeral, and the drive to Ruth’s with my dad. Ruth said I looked a lot like her.”
“Do you ever see him now?”
“Sometimes. When we have meetings about the estate and Mattel. He’s actually on the board.” Barbie rolls her eyes. “We don’t really interact like family. It’s awkward. We’re nothing like the Carsons.”
“But you have Gloria and her esposa, right?”
“Esposo,” she corrects. She’s not a fluent Spanish speaker but being around Gloria and Sasha, she knows a few words and phrases.
“Esposo.”
“Ryan and their daughter Sasha. Yeah, they’re my family in a lot of ways. When I wasn’t with Ruth, I was with them for holidays and birthdays. I’m lucky to know them. Do you have close friends like that?”
“Not really. I have friends, and my family is really close. I facetime with Bettie like once every day or every other day. We have a group chat where Kate constantly sends us memes. School and work can be pretty intense, but I am best buds with an otter and a dolphin, soooooo can’t really beat that.”
“An otter and a dolphin ? Wow. Now I really am envious. You're a regular Doctor Doolittle of the Maritime Creatures.” She giggles a bit at the image of him taking a lunch break and chatting with a dolphin. “Horses of the sea.”
“They kinda are! Huh.” Ken can hardly believe he’s just laying there talking to Barbie again in their own little bubble like old times. He doesn’t want to leave this spot and have to share her or worse–have her leave and not see her for another decade.
“Think we should go out there?”
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to…”
“And what do you want?”
“You don’t want to know what I want.”
She licks her lips at that. Could he want–? She’s not sure if she’s ready for that even if her mind is instantly flooded with the memories and sensations of him, them together. She wonders if it would be the same or better. Her body has changed since their teens. She has cellulite now and a few scars. She looks away and decides to shift gears. “I can’t hide from Midge forever.”
“I don’t think that’s what she wants either, if that helps.”
“It does.” Barbie reaches for his hand and squeezes it. “Why aren’t you screaming at me or giving me the cold shoulder?”
He shrugs. “I thought about it, but like I said, I missed you. Never was good at holding grudges, especially against you. I still might have hard words for you at some point, but…” he trails off.
“Well, I’ll be here for them. For the hard conversations.”
Ken swallows, considering his words carefully. “She feels abandoned. We all did, but not just that. It was like–it felt like you hated us all and thought we were holding you back or to some unspoken stereotype when we only just wanted you to be happy. If you didn’t feel like yourself, you could’ve been yourself and let us know you. And if you didn’t love me, you could’ve told me instead of–” Ken’s voice shakes. He’s not ready to discuss that embarrassment. He’d hid from everyone for weeks after she left. All the pitiful looks followed him. Even Kate hadn’t had the heart to make fun of him for the public shame. Barbie had done the work for her. “If life here or the relationships you had here felt fake, you could’ve been real with us because we weren’t being fake or performing for you.”
“Ken, can you look at me, please?” Barbie waits, and it hurts her to see all the pain clouding his eyes on hers. “I wasn’t always being fake or performing, I swear. Some days were really difficult. I was a special kind of fucked up and traumatized by my mom’s death and the things I convinced myself of to cope. I’ve been in therapy for five years.” She takes a deep breath and then confesses, “The point I wanted to make, and take it however you want, but the realest moments I had were with you and sometimes Midge, but especially you, Ken, when we were exploring each other intimately, that was not a performance. That was me. I didn’t always want to believe that because I was scared of attachments jeopardizing my plans, but it was real. Very real. Very fucking real and so good.”
“Damn right it was.” His voice is scratchy with emotion, and he’s resisting the desire to grab her by the nape of her neck and kiss her hard and drag his tongue across her throat. They stare at each other, breathing each other in.
Suddenly the door flings open, and Kate is in the doorway with her eyes covered comically. “I’m giving you both to the count of five to make yourselves presentable.” She peeks between her fingers and looks surprised to see them fully clothed and not post-coitally messy.
“You didn’t count to five.” Ken sits up and looks at her annoyed. He’s not sure if he’s annoyed because his sister entered when she did or because of what he was on the verge of doing.
“Eh, it’s not like I’ve never walked in on you in your birthday suit. Pretty sure ma used to bathe us together.”
“Kate!”
Barbie laughs at the two of them. She feels lighter from their platonic private time and slightly buzzed from whatever had been building before Kate appeared.
“I was elected to get you both—okay, I volunteered! The guests of honor would like more time with the both of you, and Barbs, you don’t have to worry about Midge. She and Allan left like fifteen minutes ago.”
Barbie frowns at that. She hadn’t wanted her old friend to feel like she had to leave the party because of her.
“Don’t worry, she hates being around a lot of people drinking while she’s being kicked from the inside,” Kate says, noticing Barbie’s frown and guessing at where her mind went. “Gloria is a force of nature. Saw her talking to Midge for like twenty minutes or so. I think your past and current besties made peace, so there’s hope for you. Midge isn’t entirely unreasonable although you’d think she’d be used to the pregnancy hormones by now. Isn’t this baby number five for them?”
Ken coughs a laugh at that, recalling how Allan was panicked when he told Ken the news. “Yep, it’s their fifth one.”
“Oh, wow.” Barbie tilts her head at the image. “She did always love the Partridge Family.”
“Building a band, is she? That Midge is clever!” Kate walks ahead of them to join the party that has grown considerably tipsier since they disappeared together.
Barbie follows Ken to the bar while she looks around for Gloria, who turns out to be laughing behind the bar while she shows the bartender one of her signature cocktails. “Oh god,” Barbie says to herself, knowing the blackouts and hangovers those drinks could create.
“Oh good, you two have decided to join us!” Gloria pours them shots, and Ken hands Barbie hers.
They clink their glasses together and it’s Ken who speaks first. “Here’s to good memories.”
“And here’s to making more.” Barbie replies before downing her shot in one swallow.
“Are you sure this is okay?” Ken whispers as Barbie tugs his shirt out of his waistband.
“Yep,” she says against his neck with a peck. “Ruth’s at bridge. Between the game and gossiping, she’ll be gone for like four hours.”
Ken mentally does a little fist pump as his eyes drift up in silent thanks to his luck in getting a girl whose grandma was so trusting and played bridge weekly.
He takes off his shirt and allows Barbie to look at him. He’s not completely vain, but he doesn’t hate the way he looks. He’s lean and strong. He hopes Barbie is as pleased by his physique as he is by her hands on his stomach and her little kisses along his chest.
She steps back and pulls her shirt up and over head. She’s wearing a light pink bra with little red roses all over them, and he thinks she’s the most beautiful and sexiest sight. He tucks the image of her in his memory bank. “You’re so beautiful, babe.”
He’d been calling her ‘babe’ and ‘baby’ more lately even in front of friends. It just slips out, and he likes how it feels to have soft names for her to utter when he’s out of breath at the image and presence of her. He’s so in love. He tried not to dwell on the fact that she hadn’t said it back, and that when he told her he loves her, she would just kiss him and distract him in other ways. He couldn’t complain. He knew she loved him in her way.
She hooked a finger in his belt and pulled him closer, so their skin could touch. “And you’re so handsome, Ken. Seriously.”
He puffed his chest out as her hands roamed until she was pulling him down for a kiss that sent them kissing on her bed. After twenty minutes of making out, Barbie’s hand drifts to his belt buckle again, and she attempts to unlatch it.
“You sure you want?”
“Not all the way, but I want to make you come again. I liked how it felt.”
“Yeah?” He grins. His girl liked getting him off. He’d heard about girls not really caring for all that. It’s like he kept winning jackpots with each piece of herself she shared with him. “I want to make you come again too.”
“Yeah, I’d like that,” she whispers as his kisses drift down to her breasts. He’d touched them a few times over and under clothes, but he still hasn’t seen them.
He looks up at her from between her breasts, and she looks dazed by the want in his eyes. “Can I take off your bra, please?”
She giggles at his politeness and nods. He can’t resist actually doing a fist pump that time. It’s not easy, but by the third try, he’s able to unhook her bra and looks at her reverently. His imagination didn’t do the reality of her justice. He starts out with just soft worshipful kisses and touches, but soon he’s pinching one nipple and sucking on the other one while she clutches him to her and cries out. She had no idea she could come from just that.
She’s soft and pliable as his kisses drift to her belly. She doesn’t think much of it when he kisses her legs and knees and moves to remove her shorts. She smirks figuring, he wants to see her full underwear set. She’d been picking pieces with care lately, knowing he’s likely to see them. Her eyes close as she enjoys his soft gentle kisses, but when he kisses the center of her underwear her eyes open. “Ken!”
He looks at her through lidded eyes as his tongue peeks out and then he takes a long swipe at her, tasting her through the thin fabric.
“Oh, Ken!”
Encouraged by how she’s saying name, he slides her panties to the side and kisses her lower lips fully, moaning at how delicious she is to him. She hooks her legs over his shoulders to urge him closer, and he grabs her thighs while never letting up on the pressure with his mouth even when his jaw feels numb. Her fingers grab him by the hair.
“Baby, I’m gonna–”
He responded with a pleased grunt and continued to lick and suck.
She was a limp noodle as he gave her nose a sweet peck. She cutely scrunched her face and giggled at the sight of him. Her wetness glistened on his face but especially his chin. That might take some getting used to, but it was worth it if he made her come like that again. He looked so proud of himself, and he should be, so she said to hell with it. She grabbed his face and kissed his mouth and realized the taste of herself on him wasn’t terrible.
Trying to make herself look stern, Barbie pulled away and said, “I told you I wanted to make YOU come and then you go and do that.”
He looks a bit sheepish. “You kinda did make me come.”
“Really?!”
“Yeah, when you pulled at my hair and called me baby, I just—sorry, I’ve wanted to do that to you for weeks now, I should’ve asked if you were comfortable with that first.”
“You should’ve asked, but I forgive you and to make it up to me, you can do that again. Whenever I want, which might be every day for a while!”
“I’ll make it up to you. A lot. I promise.”
“I’m pretty sure Glor would’ve told us if something happened.” Barbie leans back in her office chair and bites her pen cap.
“I dunno about that. Gloria was pretty twisted.” Ken pauses, “do you have me on speaker phone?”
“Yeah, is that okay? I’m alone in my office. Just answering messages. This weekend was the first time in ages that I was less responsive to work.”
“Yeah, that’s fine. Was just wondering why your voice sounded different. How many fires started?”
“Not as bad as I feared. The biggest issue right now is that one of my actors changed his diet and is incredibly gassy. There’s a sex scene coming up with his character and his love interest can’t stand being around him because he can’t stop farting about.”
Ken started laughing as soon as she said the word “gassy” and couldn’t stop.
“I’m glad you’re amused, but this is derailing my film schedule and possibly the script,” Barbie whines but is laughing along with him.
“Please tell me it’s the blonde vampire guy. Please.”
Barbie is silent.
“Oh my gaaaad. It is, isn’t it?” Ken is laughing so much, he’s getting strange looks from his coworker.
“No comment.”
“You have no idea how much this pleases me.”
“Mhmmm jealous much?”
“Of you making out with a brooding fartpire? Nope.”
“Uhhuh, as much as I would love to continue this conversation, I have a meeting with my writing staff.”
“Well, have a good rest of your day, and may you always be downwind from Sir Farts-A-Lot.”
Barbie shakes her head and is still smiling as she enters her meeting.
Ken is still chuckling several minutes later.
“You’ve been doing that a lot this week,” his co-worker observes out loud. It was only Thursday. Before temporarily parting ways, Barbie and Ken exchanged numbers. He didn’t think she would use it, but she was the first to text him, and they’ve texted, talked, or facetimed at least once a day all week. “It’s good. I like it. So who is the girl you’re dating?”
“Oh, we’re not dating.”
“Really?”
“She’s my ex, actually.”
“Ohhhh, that explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“How comfortable you are teasing and flirting with each other,” he responds with a shrug and walks away.
Ken and Barbie had slipped into an easy routine, and he was enjoying their regular contact with each other. Once upon a time, he was accustomed to it after all.
While Ken is reviewing the nutritional plans for the seals under his care, Barbie sits in her meeting while she and her staff debate possible rewrites that need to get to the actors before filming. At the mention of the actor causing the drama with his toots, Barbie giggles to herself thinking of Ken’s words about him, and she gets a funny look from one of her main writers. She’s usually the picture of professionalism.
“Sorry, I’m thinking of something a friend said. Completely unrelated. Um what if we cut the love scene shorter? We can shoot a montage of close-ups of their skin, giving the viewer some impression of the sensuality of the scene without needing the actors to be in close proximity, and let’s extend the scene before that one. Really show the friendship between the two girls. It’s been awhile since we’ve done that. It’ll give us some Bechdel points for sure.”
“And that’s why you’re the boss!”
“Ames, can you get me those pages by 2?
“Yes, m’am.”
“No, m’am. Just Barbie.” She freezes at her slip. They know her as Barbara, only Barbara. The weekend away and her contact with Ken has done something to her brain.
“Barbie?” Multiple of her staff members say out loud, but now that it’s said and they look at her, she does have a “Barbie” look about her.
She turns to face them and smiles tightly and tries to appear chill. Something about the look on their faces tells her she’s failing miserably. “It’s a childhood nickname. I was talking to an old, olllld friend, before the meeting and everyone still calls me that back home where I was for the weekend. It’s like a time warp. Call me Barbara, I mean. Thank you.”
Despite her words, throughout the day she hears whispers of Barbie.
“You should’ve seen their faces. I know they’re all calling me Barbie behind my back.”
“Why does that frighten or embarrass you? You are Barbie.” Her therapist’s face is unreadable and nonjudgmental. Barbie hates it.
“You know why.”
“And after this weekend and your conversations with Ken, your reasons for compartmentalizing identities remain?”
“Why would I stop being Barbara?”
“Why do you think Barbie and Barbara are so different?”
Barbie opens her mouth and closes it.
“How about this… who is Barbie to you?”
“She’s–she’s a naive, child,” she starts out, but it doesn’t ring true. “Barbie is a friend. She likes to keep things light and fun. She’s an optimist and a perfectionist. A lot of what she does covers for being scared, from being seen as a burden again.”
“Are you still scared of being a burden? Do you still feel pressured to be perfect?”
Barbie shakes her head, understanding the root cause of that now.
“So, we have Barbie–a friend, an optimist who is carefree and fun. Who is Barbara that these traits you associate with Barbie cannot be?”
“I guess I’m scared of everyone realizing that I actually am Barbie Handler and viewing me differently than I view myself, and then falling into old habits.”
“And what happens if you don’t? If word got out that you’re connected to the doll Barbie as Ruth Handler’s granddaughter, if more people in your life become aware of Ken and that friendship continues to heal and grow? If you reconcile with Midge and others who still call you Barbie? What happens to the person you are now? What if instead of falling, you grow into the person you’re supposed to be?”
She drives home lost in thought, and as she’s perusing the contents of her fridge, her phone buzzes with an incoming facetime from Ken.
She answers instantly. “Twice in a day? You must really miss me or be bored out of your mind.”
“I told you, you might regret letting me have your number.”
“Nope, not yet. I enjoy pics and videos of you with your patients too much,” she says, remembering the video he sent her of him interacting with his best friend Ollie, the otter."
“Give it a week. I’m calling because Bettie really wants to see you before she has to go back east. Is there really no way you can join us this weekend?”
“You could’ve asked over text.”
“Yeah, but then you wouldn’t be able to see my face and I wouldn’t be able to see yours.”
She does like seeing his face. “I’ll think of something. I’ll try.”
Ken does a little fist pump, and it triggers something in Barbie’s memory. She lets out a gasp.
“What? Did that do something for ya?” He playfully flexes, and although she does appreciate the look of his well defined forearms, she shakes her head.
“No, I just remembered something. An early memory of you doing exactly what you just did but obviously you were much smaller and less muscular.”
“Yeah?” he grins. “What caused me to do that then?”
“I grabbed you by the hand. We were at the carnival, and I didn’t want to lose you in the crowd.”
“Oh, yeahhhhh, I remember that. We shared cotton candy.”
“We did. Ugh, I remember the clowns scared me so much.”
“But you loved the acrobats and the elephants. Your whole face lit up. It made my day.”
“Just being at a carnival didn’t make your day?”
“I’ll admit that that was fun, but no.” Ken looked down. “Maybe you don’t remember it clearly, but you were so sad and lost sometimes. My mom explained to me that you were basically an orphan. But you seemed to be genuinely happy at the sight of the elephant and the flying acrobats.”
“Huh.. I thought I hid my sad moments pretty well back then.”
“Nope.” Ken just stares at her through the camera, and he’s looking at Barbie and Barbara. He’s seeing her, she realizes, and maybe he had been seeing her for longer than she realized, but she had never truly seen him. No wonder she’d always been insistent on not being in love with him. All this time she’d thought he’d been the superficial one, but she was the one who had never really looked at him below the surface of his appearance and actions toward her.
“I am so sorry, Ken. I’ve been unfair to you our entire lives.”
“I had my moments too. I wasn’t perfect, and I projected a lot of hopes on you." He smiles and shrugs. "How about we keep working on forgiving each other and ourselves?”
“Deal.” She grins at him. How did she get so lucky to have someone like him in her life? “Since we’re both home alone?”--he nods confirming that he is alone–”how about you flex more of those muscles for me? You save a lot of whales with those arms?” She raises an eyebrow, and he laughs bashfully while also subtly lifting a sleeve to show his bicep. She lets out a whistle.
“Yeah? You like that? Wait until you see my calves.”