There are a lot of interviews from the creators of BoJack Horseman that discuss the title character's brief relationship with Penny, the teenage daughter of Charlotte, an old friend whom he visits in New Mexico in late-season two of the show. There's an aborted attempt on Penny's behalf to get BoJack to take her virginity, which he refuses for several reasons. The gist I get from the creators is largely that BoJack still crosses a line/several lines during that arc, even if he doesn't end up sleeping with/even initiating sex with Penny (who is 17 at the time, and thus legally of-age in New Mexico), and that he does this with wild abandon because he still 'considers himself a teenager.' I guess I'm not completely sold on that interpretation, and so here is a brief think-piece exploring what might have happened after BoJack's escape from, and then back to, L.A.

Summary: Penny escapes to L.A. Title and section titles come from Courtney Barnett's "Avant Gardener," which is also featured in the show. Takes place shortly after season two. Rated PG. ~ 1,400 words.

I'm Not Good at Breathing In

Should've stayed in bed today, I much prefer the mundane.

New York keeps him busy. There isn't time for the usual loafing in front of overplayed copies of Horsin' Around DVDs, nor for the hours he used to allot every week to updating his self-run fan club Web site. The Facebook friend-request idles for weeks before he finally clicks 'ignore,' not letting his eyes linger on the sender's face, wide-eyed, camera angled downward for peak selfie-ing.

It's not until he's back in Los Angeles, Todd firmly settled into the guest bedroom that he helped liberate from months of Diane's depressive pizza box-hoarding, that he receives the private Twitter message: 'Hey.'

Anaphylactic and super hypochondriatic.

He hasn't told anyone what happened in New Mexico. Fortunately, junking his car and coming home with a boat isn't out of the realm of his past transgressions, and so it's not necessary to say anything.

That is, of course, before she turns up on his doorstep. Rather, no one knows not to let her in, and so, one day, there she is. "It's my 'Escape to L.A.,'" she says by way of greeting, and looks entirely too amused by the frustrated whinny this elicits from him.

"You need to escape somewhere, anywhere else." He pinches the bridge of his snout between two fingers. "Your mother promised to murder me if I so much as attempted to contact you ever again."

Penny makes a 'pssh' sound, crossing her arms over her bosom. "I'm like, eighteen now, so that bitch can't do shit."

"Don't disrespect your mother," he says automatically, and wonders if this is what it's like to have kids. "You need to call her and let her know you're okay."

"My phone is dead," Penny whines, holding up a cellular device – the case is pink and purple and awash in no small amount of glitter – with a darkened screen. Her eyes skim the room. "You still have a landline?"

"Yeah, yeah." The ensuing conversation with Charlotte is an unhappy one, and ends with Penny sniffling in a huddled mass at the end of BoJack's couch. He watches silently as she wraps herself in the blanket hanging over the back.

Life's getting hard in here, so I do some gardening.

Of course, the conversation has to happen eventually. "So am I gonna have to fight Penny for the guest room?" Todd quips one morning. Penny herself is in the bathroom, taking her usual un-Godly amount of time to 'shower,' and the whole scene would be way more annoying if not for the smell of breakfast food simmering under Todd's watch (and spatula).

"I don't think she's staying that long." BoJack takes a long sip of orange juice and tries to pretend it doesn't need rum. Since his own return to L.A., he's been trying to run regularly and eat better, even if sometimes that simply means patting himself on the back for not being tanked before noon. Today's sobriety is still up in the air, to be certain.

Todd shrugs. "She's nice. Kinda young, though." The implication hangs in the air, until – "You didn't -"

"I didn't, actually."

"Huh."

"Yeah." He takes another sip. "Not even just because her mom would cut my balls off, either. I just … she's better than that. Than me. And I think one day she'll realize that. And I don't want her to regret anything."

Neither of them speak for a while after that. Finally, Todd slides a plate of sizzling hash browns into the center of the dining room table, and takes a seat opposite BoJack. "You're not so bad, buddy," he says, before cramming his mouth full of food.

BoJack drains his orange juice and stares into the remnants. "Huh," he says.

I feel proactive, I pull out weeds.

He's between projects at the moment – the play in New York was a fantastic experience, but ultimately a finite one – and decides to do something before boredom and poor decision-making can set in, as they are often wont to do. "Wanna meet some orphans?" he asks Penny one morning, and she looks up, startled, from her phone.

The drive – he decided to keep the boat, namely because he and Todd both realized how much they liked to fish and spend entire days in the sun, but he got a new car, too – is pleasant, albeit a little awkward. "I saw the Secretariat movie," Penny volunteers at one point. "I know you said in that People interview that it wasn't even really you acting most of the time, but I thought it was still pretty good." She pauses. "My mom doesn't know I saw it. I told her I was at Alison F.'s house to work on a 4-H project together."

"And she believed that?"

Penny snorts. "Not really. I think she knew. We didn't talk for like, a week after you left." BoJack shifts uncomfortably at this, but remains silent, eyes firmly on the road. "She knows I'm here, you know," Penny says, more quietly this time, fiddling with the small, beaded clutch in her lap.

"I know." In complete honesty, he's woken up more than once in a cold sweat, sure that the distant police sirens he hears are there to finally take him away. Trying to keep things lighthearted, he adds: "I thought Alison F. was 'three best friends ago.'"

Penny looks flattered that he's remembered the minutiae of her high school social life. "I mean, Maddy and I didn't talk much after Prom," she says, and now it's uncomfortable between them for a different reason.

"I'm … really sorry about what happened that night, Penny. Like, everything. I should have been an adult."

Penny shrugs. "Three other kids got alcohol poisoning that night. You didn't give booze to all of them, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. I'm not – just, that whole evening, I made a lot of bad decisions, and I hurt you and your family, and I'm sorry for that. Like, I've thought a lot about it. In the end, I couldn't run away from it in New York any more than I could in L.A. I just had to live through it, and make amends where I could, and accept when I couldn't with some modicum of dignity."

Penny appears to be taking all of this in. "Being an adult kinda sucks," she finally offers, and BoJack laughs, really laughs. It's genuine and it feels strange but nice.

"Wow, this is a nice orphanage," Penny says a few minutes later, as they pull up to the large, colorful building Princess Carolyn masterminded the purchase of. Her face crinkles – just like her mother's, BoJack can't help but notice – as she reads the sign: "'Jerb's Kids'?"

BoJack sighs and parks the car uphill. "It's a long story."

I think she's clever 'cause she stops people dying.

A 51st birthday party isn't something he would have thrown for himself, to be sure. It's ultimately Penny's idea, and then, thanks to her newfound gig as Princess Carolyn's personal assistant, and Princess Carolyn's connections within her successful new agency, the event becomes an unstoppable force, culminating in a bustling, yet intimate house party.

Still, melancholy, his well-worn acquaintance, eventually sets in, probably around the time he looks around and notes who in the sea of familiar faces – Todd, Mr. Peanutbutter, Diane, Sarah Lynn and several other cast and crew members from Horsin' Around - is missing – his mother, Charlotte, Wanda, Herb. He doesn't want to make a scene, and so he opts to sneak away to the roof for a quick smoke – vices, too, can be as comforting as they are harmful – and to get some fresh air.

He's not alone for very long. "Introvert, party of one," Diane jokes as she pulls her boot over the window pane. BoJack nods in silent acceptance before she perches next to him, and then, after a minute, accepts his proffered cigarette. "These things'll kill ya," she tells him, and then takes a long puff, coughing only once before handing it back. BoJack stares at the smoldering end, unnervingly fascinated, until he hears Diane scoff a little. "It wasn't meant to call your entire life's philosophy into question," she tells him, and then softens. "Hey. You okay, BoJack? Like, really?"

BoJack blinks, and then stubs out the cigarette. He takes a deep breath, and lets it 'whoosh' slowly out again, knowing Diane is patient enough to wait for a fully-contemplated answer. "You know, I think I am," he finally says. "I'm okay. Huh."

Diane nods, and then looks out towards the twinkling skyline, where BoJack's gaze is also directed. "Huh," she says.