Meeting Again
Summary: 5 years later, Jude Harrison finds someone she never thought she'd see again.
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New York City, Jude Harrison's new home. A city where no one knew (or remembered) her, and where she knew no one. Jude found it comforting to know that she could always lose herself in a crowd here, bustling at all hours.
She had been on her way down to her favorite little café after leaving the fashion magazine office where she worked, when the streets became clogged with protestors. Jude sighs in defeat as she gets crushed between impatient New Yorkers.
"Oh, what the fish?" A man mumbled behind her. His presence feels so familiar, and Jude turns ¾ around, to see him. The familiar messy, windblown dark locks, those dream-like eyes. She knew him from somewhere. Finally it hits her, and she thinks herself stupid she hadn't recognized him faster. His face had grown more mature and…oh, who was she kidding? He was damn gorgeous now, and it seemed she wasn't the only who noticed. His face was brushed with pink from the cold, and he pulled his scarf tighter around his neck, adjusting his jacket over his tall, lanky form.
"Jamie?" Jude's cheeks turn even more pink, this time not from the cold. Jamie looks down at her, surprise evident in his eyes.
"Jude? What are you doing here? Where's Tommy? Shouldn't you be recording?" He questions her.
"Nice to see you too, Jamie. I live here, who cares, and no, I shouldn't," she answers him. They had a lot of catching up to do.
Jamie and Jude ended up seated in the nearest Starbucks, which, mind you, wasn't that far away, seeing as this was New York. Insisting on paying, Jamie waited in line while Jude was seated at the curvy café tables, wringing her hands nervously underneath.
Jamie returned to the table, with two large cups in his hand. Jude hesitantly sipped it, and a light grin graced her face.
"You remembered."
"Never forgot," he sighed, drinking his own plain coffee.
"So, what are you doing here?" Jude asked him.
"I've been living here for the past three years, actually," Jamie replied. He ran a hand through his chestnut-colored hair, and pulled out his cell phone.
"Listen, I've got to go. Give me your number, and I'll call you?" Jude nodded, disappointed, and gives him her number.
He turns to go, and without thinking, Jude runs up to him, spins him around, and presses her lips against his. He was rigid in her unbelievably strong grip on his shoulders, but soon, his arms slip around her slim waist, and Jude feels his lips move against her, and her body being lifted up, and pressed closer against his perfect form.
They released, and rested their foreheads together.
"You have no idea how long I've missed that."
"I think I love you, Jude Harrison."
"I think I love you, Mr. Andrews."