I own nothing

AN: In this universe Jimmy and Cindy were together for about 5 years but broke up about a year previously. Sheen and Libby (still going strong) invited both parties to live with them about 4 months earlier. I imagine every one here to be about mid twenties.

And I have no excuse for this.

Cindy shut the front door softly while gently clicking the lock into place. Glancing quickly down at her phone, she noted the time. 1:45 am before also securing the dead bolt. Sheen and Libby were definitely in bed by now, and Jimmy—well Jimmy was never out this late.

Pushing the thoughts of her ex boyfriend away was becoming increasingly difficult for Cindy, especially since they now had to see one another every day.

They'd broken up, on the eve of Sheen and Libby's wedding but miraculously managed to keep it together until the bride and groom were whisked away in their fairy tale carriage to start their happily ever after. Libby had never been more shocked when the night she got back from her 12-day honeymoon Cindy softly stated "Jimmy and I are over." It had taken another 5 days for Libby to get it out of a devastated and distraught Jimmy. He'd proposed, and she had said no. There had been no further explanation from either of them, and Libby and even Sheen were left perplexed.

As weeks passed it appeared the couple had simply stopped speaking, and while they all occasionally hung out together, their conversations were forced and to the point. It had been a few months ago, that Libby had offered Cindy the spare bedroom off the den, in the house she now owned with Sheen. It was a cute little room, with a small sky light over the bed. It had it's own private bathroom, and it was much better than staying with her parents. Cindy had accepted the offer almost instantly, not aware that Sheen had also offered the downstairs finished basement to his best friend, and her ex.

Of course, being the intelligent young woman she was, it didn't take her long to find out. It had been more than a little awkward at first but—she'd made it work. While extremely painful it was still comforting to have him near. As the shock wore off, the familiar feeling of excitement returned when he entered the room. And Cindy cursed herself; I may never get over this man. So, on counsel of a colleague at her firm she'd begun seeing someone, John.

Everyone at work called him Johnny, but Cindy never did. He was a good-looking guy, around 28 years old with deep green eyes and sandy blonde hair. He was funny, and every one she worked with loved him. Cindy, being the progressive woman she is decided to take a chance and ask him out for a drink. He'd accepted her offer, the drink had led to dinner and they'd been casually seeing one another a month now.

Slipping out of her heels, she carried them and her clutch to her bedroom. Unzipping her black dress, and slipping an over sized tee shirt over her head, she crept quietly back to the kitchen. She rummaged quietly in the cabinet before grabbing a glass and pouring herself some water. As she leaned back against the counter top her eyes were drawn to the lit up TV screen.

It was a picture of Libby and Sheen on their wedding day, before it slowly faded to a shot of Carl and Sheen on the golf course that summer. They must have been casting a movie off of their laptop she thoughtand now the TV screen was displaying Sheen's screen savers. Cindy smiled at a few more before it inevitably landed on a picture of Jimmy and her.

Choking on her water, she wiped her mouth and stared hard at the image in front of her. It was at the barbeque Carl threw at his new condo with Elke three months before Sheen and Libby's wedding. They were laughing about something, neither looking at the camera. He had his arms around her waist, and hers were slung snugly around his neck. Their faces were touching. Cindy was quite sure she'd never seen this picture before, otherwise all the air wouldn't have gone out of her lungs, and maybe she wouldn't have dropped her glass, shattering it against the tile and cutting the top of her foot in the process.

"Fuck." She hissed, jumping back on instinct at the pain and reverberating loud noise in the almost silent house. She waited a few beats, but all was silent upstairs. As she bent down to gather up the big chunks of glass off the floor she heard distant footsteps, and to her horror they were coming from the staircase off the kitchen—the one that led to the basement.

She straightened up, just as he came in to view and the pair stared at one another for a beat.

She was the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, I dropped my glass…" she trailed off and motioned to the floor. "Go back to sleep."

He stared at her inquisitively, his eyes narrowed and his face guarded. He nodded and turned to walk back towards his room but not before he faced her and quietly asked, "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, fine." She answered quickly, but not before she awkwardly shifted her weight, wincing as pain shot through her foot. Shit.

"No you aren't, "he snorted now walking around the side of the island to see the damage for himself.

"Cin!" He exclaimed in a loud whisper, "you've got a giant gash on your foot!"

"Oh it's just bleeding a bit, you know how it is…" She wished he'd just go to bed, the last thing she needed was him showing her any kind of concern, it only screwed with her head.

"Go get cleaned up, I'll handle this." He barked and began moving around her. She sighed and watched as he bent over to begin cleaning up her mess, knowing there was no point in arguing with him she awkwardly made her way to her room and her en suite bathroom.

Turning the water in the shower on, she began pulling out antiseptic, Neosporin, and Band-Aids. Upon closer inspection, the cut wasn't deep, and luckily there was no glass in her foot. She swung a leg over into the shower, pulling her t-shirt up to avoid it getting wet and revealing her black lace panties in the process. She supposed she could have gotten fully in the spray but she was much too tired and she only needed to rinse the blood off.

As on edge as she was, she was extremely surprised she managed to keep her balance as she heard the deep clearing of his throat. She turned around to face him, standing half in the doorway to her bathroom—staring at her. It took her breath away, gone was the carefully guarded mask. He was looking at her hungrily, and even greedily. She let him look, feeling warmth spread from the tip of her head, deep in her belly and then further south.

Breaking the spell she leaned forward and swung her leg out, while simultaneously shutting off the spray.

"What's the damage?" He asked her quietly. She avoided looking at him as she sunk to the floor and began drying off her leg and cleaning her cut. Pulling her t-shirt down, she felt her cheeks still flushing crimson.

"I think I'll live." She said softly.

She looked up at him, and he seemed conflicted. She'd given him a clear out, he could bid her goodnight, and they'd say nothing of this in the morning. But she found she didn't want him to leave just yet. This was the most they'd spoken in weeks.

"Thanks for cleaning up the mess."

He waved his hand away, "I'm just glad you're okay."

She nodded and he turned to leave, recognizing the moment was over but she stopped him much to both their surprise.

"I could always use a second opinion."

"What?" He asked, turning his head to the side in confusion.

She gestured to her foot. "You're a neurosurgeon after all."

He smiled, and carefully crossed the threshold to her bathroom, and sank to the ground across from her, leaning his back against her vanity. He gestured for her to extend her leg towards him. She did, slowly at first before gently placing it in his lap. He took the bandage from her other hand and smoothly applied it to her cut.

"Good as new."

He ran his hand casually up and down her leg, and goose bumps erupted over her arms as she repressed the delighted shiver that ran through her.

"Jimmy." She whispered.

He looked up at her expectantly only to be shocked at the pain on her face, and the tears now silently streaming down her cheeks.

"Hey, hey"—he hurriedly whispered while leaning forward to dab at the moisture on her face. She never cried. "What's wrong Cin—please tell me what's going on?"

As utterly heartbroken as he still was—he hated to see her unhappy. That's why he'd swallowed all the horrible, vile, evil things he wanted to say and do when he learned she was dating again. He still loved her; he doubted he'd ever stop. She was his soul mate, his equal in every wayand even thinking of her with someone else made him want to run into oncoming traffic. But he still wished for her happiness. Unfortunately his comment only made her cry harder.

Out of options, Jimmy did the one thing he knew would completely tear his heart apart when he inevitably got off the bathroom floor; he gently pulled her into his arms and onto his lap. As she sobbed into his chest, he ran his hand up and down her back. As she relaxed she pressed herself closer to him, and he reveled in the scent of her hair wafting up his nose. Selfishly he breathed her in, his own personal drug. Finally as her sobs began to quiet and her breathing returned to normal she spoke.

"I saw a picture, on the TV—it must have been from Sheen's photos or something."

He waited and when she didn't elaborate he asked, "and?"

"It was at Carl's barbeque, it was of us."

Oh. He thought.

"We looked so…happy."

"We were happy." He responded quickly with a bite of bitterness to his tone.

He felt her immediately stiffen and tried to relax. Gently he began rubbing small circles into the small of her back, he wasn't ready for her to retreat just yet. Her breathing evened out, and he tried again.

"We were happy." He repeated this time, wistfully.

Cindy inhaled his scent deeply as she pressed her face into the cotton of his worn t-shirt. We were happy. His words echoing in her mind, I want to be happy again.

She had never told him why she'd turned down his proposal. She'd never told anyone, but she hadn't blamed him when he'd stormed off, leaving them both heartbroken. She found the words slipping from her mouth now, without her permission.

"I was never good enough."

"What?" He asked, pausing in his rubbing motion of her lower back.

"You're a neurosurgeon. Chief of surgery before we're even thirty. I'm barley-making partner. What kind of life is that? You could go anywhere; run any hospital in the country, hell in the world. Why settle for Retroville, why settle for me?" She finally gasped out, on the verge of tears yet again.

His grip on her tightened almost painfully and as he dropped his forehead to the crown of her head she swore she heard him sniff. She felt him inhale, and she prepared herself for the final break, where he agreed with her, their break up had been for the best.

"You're telling me…you turned me down because you thought I was settling?" He asked, his voice deadly calm and to Cindy's surprise he sounded angry.

"That's what I just—" She began, pulling back from him so she could see his face before he interrupted her.

"Not because you didn't want to start a life with me, not because you didn't…" he swallowed hard before continuing "not because you didn't love me anymore?" He demanded, staring at her incredibly.

"Jimmy." She took a deep breath. "I still love you."

It was three seconds before he responded. Hope, and determination gleamed in his blue eyes. Putting both hands on the side of her face he gave me ample time to pull away. When she didn't he slowly slanted his lips over hers.

What started as soft and sweet turned hungry fast. He was everywhere all at once and Cindy truly couldn't get enough. Situating herself so that both her knees were on the tile, she hovered over his lap, kissing him greedily.

Both moaned when she parted her lips and he slipped his tongue inside. Teasingly she lowered herself until she strattled him and began to rub herself against his growing hardness. Growling, he pulled away and darted a hand up under her t-shirt and began to roughly massage her breast.

He watched smugly as her head lolled back and he rolled a fingertip over her peaked nipple.

"Jimmy" She moaned, rolling her head forward she leaned in close to whisper in his ear, "take me to bed."

Wrapping her legs firmly around his waist he scooped her up and carried her out of the bathroom before kicking her bedroom door shut and dropping her on her duvet.

Reaching over to her nightstand she pulled a condom out quickly and watched a myriad of emotions dance across his beautiful face. Dropping the silver package she placed both hands on the side of his face, reminiscent to his actions earlier.

"This was just in case—it's only been you. I've only ever been with you."

Desperately his lips came crashing down to hers again, and she felt they might bruise in the process, not that she minded in the slightest. As he pulled away to strip off his shirt she looked him in the eye and whispered, "It's always going to be you."

Her shirt was shed quickly after that leaving them both in just their underwear, crawling under their blankets, he slid the condom on and lined himself up over her. Looking down into her eyes, he couldn't deny he loved her more than anything in the entire world. As he slipped inside her, they both moaned loudly and he shivered with delight.

She was so unbelievably wet and tight, she was like coming home. They kissed for a bit allowing themselves to both become adjusted. Soon though, he was thrusting deep inside her, slowly at first, and then quickly as he felt her muscles tighten around him.

When she truly began to squirm he reached a hand down between them and quickly rubbed his thumb in fast, soothing circles. With white, hot intensity she came around him, crying out his name into his shoulder.

Grunting he flipped him so he was entirely on top of her as he took control, chasing his own release. As he came inside her, he felt the tears running down his cheeks, and he peppered her own face with salty lips.

Pulling out of her slowly, he cautiously and hopefully extended his arms to her. She came willingly and laid her head blissfully on his chest.

He eventually broke the peaceful silence cocooning them.

"For the record, you've always been more than good enough."

She rolled over in his arms to look in his eyes. "I was never settling. Not with you as a girlfriend and I wouldn't have been with you as my wife."

She looked into his eyes before she gently ran her hand across his jaw bringing her face eye level with his.

"Yes." She said quietly.

"Yes?" He asked, his heart frantically beating, already hoping more than he had any right too.

"Yes." She answered and kissed him firmly on the lips as yet more tears streamed down her face. But she didn't care as he kissed her back; she eventually fell into oblivion, the day's exhaustion catching up to her.

As she lay asleep beside him he stared at the love his life in complete awe, and wondered with absolute bliss how soon he could slip the pearl engagement ring, still hidden in his bedside table onto her finger.