Disclaimer:I don't own anything. I don't even own the story title I got it from FEEDER's song.

Author's Note: Hey guys, this is my first story and I really hope you guys enjoy this. This story is completely AU, which means the characters aren't going to be exactly like those we see on the show so, if you decide to read this, please keep an open mind. I wrote this story for another site a long lime ago and like to dedicate this to all hardcore NH Fans. And yep, this story definitely centers on Naley mostly.

This chapter contains tiny bit of M rated stuff so proceed with caution. Please review and tell me what you think about my first attempt. Love ya all!

Summary: Two desperate souls and two lost unforeseen persons. He never planed their unexpected meet.He has till dawn to convince her life's worth living for. Is she gonna listen to him?.......

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BITTER GLASS

by Sharon.

Chapter 01.

Nathan saw her first as a silhouette, there on the bridge, spotted under a streetlamp.

He paused at the sight, his heart thumping. His response was two-fold and embarrassing, as it always was when he saw something female and beautiful. A mix of painful, hormonal yearning, and terror. Shyness was his bane. It vied with every desire in his heart and groin, and had kept him bound and gagged most of his life.

He was a muscular twenty-two year old, with ravens hair and eyes deep blue as the deep ocean. His features were strikingly handsome and appealing. Howbeit, his shy nature kept him apart from people, and he rarely met their gaze when he was forced to speak with them.

As Nathan made his own silent way across the bridge a cool wind whispered by and he was glad for the leather jacket he wore. The night was crisp, the stars sharp as shattered glass. Above the bridge, the faux nouveau streetlights were large and yellow as small moons. Below rushed the flood-swollen river. It was fast and dangerous this time of year, enough so that town residents were warned not to let their children play near its shores. The wind carried up a bit of spray tasting of algae and wet stone.

Behind, Nathan could hear the cheers and noise from the park, where an illuminated diamond hosted an impromptu baseball game. Ahead was the music and traffic of the town. Lives, it seemed, were being lived in either direction. The bridge, itself, however, was deserted and quiet, isolated but for Nathan and the girl, as if they'd been separated out from the world.

The girl had her back to him. She was wearing a twilight purple sweatshirt and a black colour mini skirt, neither of which gave much clue to her real figure. Matching boots outlined her slender calves. Damn her legs!.... Andmost striking of all was her dark brown hair, which fell, curling and tumbling, beyond to her shoulders. It shone like Hot Chocolate fluid.

She stood there, at the opposite rail, gazing out. What was she seeing? Nathan wondered. The river was rushing towards her. Was she thinking of where those floodwaters had come from, the snowmelt off mountains?.....Or the country rills and brooks?

Perhaps she was dreaming of a lover who lived up river. For a moment, Nathan selfishly imagined that he was that lover, sending his thoughts down river to her.

He'd always wanted that in his life, the silly mush of couples who thought obsessively about each other. He'd always wanted know what it was like to smile across a dinner table at someone because of a secret joke. Or to engage in some frivolous activity like roller-skating. To play sex games, to make another sing out in pleasure. To hold hands. Like genuinely and seriously. Nope, he never had tried those amazing appreciations with someone and he definitely knew why.

He'd always wanted that 'genuine' connection. More than anything. But he'd never had it and he figured he never would. Not like this girl and her lover, whoever he was.

The girl moved closer to the railing. Nathan hastily stepped back into the shadows between streetlamps, suddenly afraid that she'd notice him ogling her and take offence. He started to drop his eyes, to turn away. To think up excuses should she see and question him.

And then he saw the girl set her knee on the top of the granite balustrade and haul herself up onto the railing.

Nathan felt himself turn to stone. He would later wonder why he didn't dash over and grab hold of her. Jerk her by the sweatshirt. It would have been the wrong move, perhaps, but it didn't even enter into his mind.

Only one thing popped into his head at that moment. The strangest thing that had ever popped into his shy, tormented brain.

"Want to go out on a date?"

Nathan was not one of those inhibited sorts who mumbled or stuttered. He's never good in speeches. He was the sort who said little or nothing. But when he did speak, however, he was always clear, if not loud.

These words were both precise and ringing. They carried across the bridge, over the rush of the water, over the sounds of distant traffic, the shouts from the baseball diamond.

The girl froze.

"Just one date."

He couldn't believe he'd said it the first time, let alone a second time, but that was his voice. At least, he thought it was his voice. It had never sounded that strong, that sure before.

The girl did not shift from her position half up on the rail. Nathan sensed that she was waiting to hear him step near so she could throw herself over. He stayed where he was.

"How long have you been there?" Her voice was a little husky, like the rustle of fabric in a dark room. Not angry…..Just Curious.

"Maybe five minutes……. So, do you want to go out?"

Nathan didn't know if he was more disconcerted by the question, which he couldn't seem to stop asking, or his bold tone. It was as if the girl's intent to suicide had transformed him from a pathetic squire into a knight in shining armor. He'd never felt more confident in his life.

She moved at last, bringing her leg down from the rail and returning to the walkway. He'd captured her attention, that at least. She turned around as raised her arms little, the hem of her shirt going with it, Nathan noticed something white gold twinkling out at him from her midriff area. He squinted trying to get a better look because he was sure what he thought he saw was not what he actually saw. A belly button ring?.......Holy God, it's so fucking sexy!. Not only that, her tight sweatshirt outlining her curvy waist clearly. And she got an angelic heart-shaped face as her cheeks seemed rosy in the cold. He wasn't close enough to tell the color of her eyes yet, but she had a cute nose and soft, kissable lips.

For a moment, she just scrutinized him. Nathan stood with hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, letting her get a good look at how very harmless he was in his tennis shoes and tatty faded jeans. His white shirt was half out of his pants and peering out from under his baby blue sweater. He was usually a little more meticulous, but he'd been in a black funk and hadn't taken much care with what he'd thrown on.

Normally, he would have been mortified to appear so slovenly before a girl, but, once again, he felt oddly bulletproof. His looks didn't matter in this instance, just what he'd said. He knew that.

"You can't stop me," she asserted, her tone testing. Probing.

He almost smiled with wonder. He'd confounded her. That was a first.

"No," he agreed. "A person determined to take their own life will find a way. You can interrupt them, watch them for seventy-two hours. But the second you turn your back, they will manage to kill themselves. People have hung themselves from doorknobs. Opened their veins with ballpoint pens."

"You seem well informed on the subject," she observed.

Nathan shrugged. "I just want you to know that I'm not trying to enlighten or transform you. I just want to go out on a date."

She blinked. "With a suicidal girl?" She had very expressive eyebrows. "Though I suppose it does get you off the hook if you don't want to call her the next day or go on a second date."

He laughed, he couldn't help it. He slapped a hand over his mouth, horrified. Laugh it up jackass….You think this is a joke? Nice!. However this girl was prepared to throw herself over the railing into icy, rushing waters. He expected sluggish depression or defensive anger, not this dark humor.

"Why do you want to go on a date with me?" she demanded.

For the first time, Nathan dropped his eyes, ducked his head. It was yet another revelation to him to realize that he'd been meeting her gaze this whole time, speaking to her as easily as he might a friend, not a stranger and a girl.

A very nice looking girl.

"Well...prisoners condemned to die get last meals, and terminal patients get last wishes." He flicked his eyes up. She was listening.

"A suicide," he went on, "ought to have a good memory to take with them into oblivion."

"You've got the wrong idea about suicides. Or at least about me," she countered. "If anything in life were tempting me to stay, that last meal or last wish, I wouldn't be planning to throw myself off a bridge."

So, she'd caught him out in a lie already…..Or, at least, a half-lie.

"Let me take you to dinner and give you one last wish," he bargained. "And I'll tell you my real reason for asking you out. Or you can say no and I'll turn around and let you jump."

Nathan said this with conviction, with no urge to beg or sway her. He would not draw out the argument. Even so, now that he'd spoken with her, he felt his throat tighten at the thought of letting her go. There was something about her that was so alluring. Like a dragonfly hovering above a pond.

Her arms folded across her chest and she eyed him suspiciously.

"Dinner and a last wish could take a long time," she observed. "You could really drag it out...."

"Till dawn," he said. "Most dates, if they go well……really well, last till dawn."

"Till dawn," she echoed, contemplating that. Then, "Where for dinner?"

Nathan caught his breath. His pulse raced and his nerve finally wavered. She'd said yes. God help him.

He brought his hands out of his pockets and spread them. "Lady's choice."

"Suicide's choice you mean." She waved a hand. "I told you. Nothing appeals to me."

"Well," Cal thought desperately, "How about that little Italian restaurant a block or so from here? That way, if you change your mind during the meal, you can come right back."

A faint twitch touched her lips. Was that respect he saw in her expression?

"I know the place, All right."

"I'll stay on this side," Nathan suggested. "We can meet when we get to the end." He wanted to assure her that he wasn't trying to get near enough to grab her and drag her away from the rail.

"All right."

They stepped in tandem down the cobbled walkway, her heeled boots tapping softly, his rubber soles squeaking now and then. He kept to his side when they stepped off the bridge, staying away from her until they'd both crossed the street. Then he finally dared to approach her.

She quivered a little as he neared and he was sure she'd make a panicked dash.

She didn't. Nathan's heart pounded very hard and his breathing grew shallow he stepped up. It always did this close to girls. In her heeled boots she was almost about the same height as he was, able to look at him directly. Her eyes were chocolate brown.

He offered her his arm. She hesitated, and then slipped a hand around it. Leading the way, he escorted her to dinner.

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Karen's Café smelled of garlic and fresh baked Italian bread. The floors were terra cotta, the walls and ceiling stucco. Square tables, draped with yellow and blue cloths, crowded the little restaurant. Given that it was a weekday and sometime past the usual dinner hour there weren't that many patrons and the murmur of voices was mild, which suited Nathan just fine.

A quaint and charming place to take a suicidal girl on a date, Nathan nervously mused as a waitress offered them a discreet corner. He still couldn't believe what he'd done or where he'd ended up.

And he was in a near panic trying to figure out what he ought to do next.

He helped the girl out of her coat and drew her chair back for her. It was among the few things he enjoyed doing on a date, acting the part of gallant gentleman. He always got angry with men who took women for granted. Let any of them spend just one day in his shoes, they'd learn quick enough how lucky they were.

His date lifted up the menu, her long lashes dropping to peruse it. Now that they were close, Nathan found that everything about her seemed to affect him. Her smell, the way she toyed with one of those satiny black curls. The flash of amethyst earrings on her powdery soft earlobes.

"You don't get to ask," she said suddenly.

"Pardon?"

"If you ask me why I was about to do what I was about to do, I'll leave."

"I won't ask then," Nathan promised, but inside he quavered. The dates he'd gone on had sunk because he was never able to maintain his end of the conversation. This one was going to go right to the bottom if all they had to discuss was him. He never knew what to say about himself.

She scanned the menu again and sighed.

"Nothing looks good to you?" he asked anxiously.

"Nothing."

"Well...." He thought about it. "What would you never order on a date? Go for that."

The waitress came back. Nathan requested a Caesar salad for them to split and a carafe of the house wine.

"I'll have the spaghetti with olive oil and garlic," the girl ordered, which surprised Nathan as he'd assumed she'd go for something self-indulgent. Veal in cream sauce or stuffed lobster.

"Lasagna," Nathan decided for himself. After the waitress left he asked, "Why the garlic pasta?"

"I'd never have that on a date," she explained nonchalantly. "You don't want to reek of garlic when you French kiss later on."

We're going to French kiss? Nathan almost blurted, and then blushed. Stupid question. Of course they weren't.

"No halitosis," he heard himself saying, "is so bad that I'd object to a kiss of any kind from a date."

The girl cocked her head. "Really."

Nathan winced and almost sunk his face into his hands. Had he really just said that? "I'm sorry, that sounded—"

"Desperate? You don't have to pretend with me."

Right! He'd asked a suicide out on a date. She could hardly have missed the fact that he was desperate. He might as well have signaled it with semaphores.

Nathan felt himself hit muddy bottom. And the date had only just started.

"Do you have a name?" the girl asked as the mortified silence lengthened.

"Oh." Suave, lover boy… Very suave. "I'm Nathan. Nathan Scott. Um…. Is there something I can call you? Or shall I just keep to Miss?"

She smirked. "Why don't we call me: Haley?"

"Haley," he agreed.

The waitress brought the wine and pushed forward a cart with salad ingredients. She made up their Caesar there at the table in a wooden bowl.

After the dressed romaine had been divvied onto two chilled plates, and they'd been wished Bon Appetite, Haley leaned in. "You said you'd tell me the real reason you wanted to go on a date."

"It's going to sound awful," Nathan confessed.

She shrugged. "My opinion of you, good or bad, is not long for this world."

He flinched at that. He couldn't help it. She might as well have slapped his face.

Haley blinked. "I'm sorry, that was harsh. I promise, I won't think badly of you. It's not like I'm in a position to judge anyone."

And just what did that mean?....

Nathan downed a gulp of wine. "The reason I asked you out is because I knew I could handle the rejection if you said no."

Brows shot up and she took a sip of her own wine.

"Well, that is unexpected," she conceded. "I guess, if a girl half over the side of a bridge tells you she has better things to do that night, you're likely to believe her."

He snorted and started to laugh, but quickly brought up his hand to stop it.

"You don't have to stifle yourself," she urged. "That was funny."

"It seems wrong. I mean, given how you must be feeling………."

"No talking about me," she reminded him flatly.

"Sorry."

Silence again. Haley started in on her salad,

"Have you suffered that many lame excuses," she finally ventured, "when you asked girls out on dates? I mean, that you'd need such guarantees?"

"No." He was watching the way she deftly manipulated knife and fork to bring small bites to her lips. On her forearms was a light down of dark brown hair that almost sparkled in the romantic lighting, like mica. He found himself swallowing, wishing he could stroke it.

He cleared his throat. "Truth is," he went on, "the only rejections I've ever suffered were all in my own mind. You're the first woman I've ever asked out on a real date."

"You're shitting me?"

The foul language startled him. Which was ridiculous. What kind of screwed up soul was he that he was more disturbed by her using vulgar words than trying to commit suicide?

"I wish I was," he muttered.

"So I'm the first real date you've ever been on?"

"No. Just the first I've ever gotten all on my own. I've been on a few dates set up by friends...well, not really friends...more like peers who took pity on me." He sighed. "None of them worked out."

"Why?....You are totally an eye candy to any girl."

"Am I?...." Nathan smirked at her flirtatiously.

"Trust me….You are!" Haley leaned forward and murmured sexily. "…..So, No kiss at the door?" Haley queried. "No second date?"

He flushed. The shyness within him wanted to shut down, to go silent as usual. He forced himself to verbalize. "Some experimental kisses in the car, some fumbling on my part to feel them up. Rejection at the door. No second date. And no, I've never had a real girlfriend…..May be, because of my history which I don't wanna unroll to anyone. But there it is."

Haley looked thoughtful, and then she reached under the table and he saw her shifting awkwardly.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Just need to get a boot off," she explained. "Ah, There So…" She went on, "What you're saying is that no girl on a date with you has ever done anything like this...?"

Toes suddenly pressed down on his shoe. Nathan jumped, as if jolted and swallowed. "Uhh, hell no!"

"Really." a small smile came to her lips. He felt the toes, there in their nylon stockings, poking up past the ankle, into the pants to tickle bare skin. The goose-bumps all over his body suddenly rose and he shivered.

He was breathing very softly now. His heart had kicked up and he felt something very akin to fear. And yet his skin was suddenly alive with pleasure and desire.

Haley's toes slipped out to climb up Nathan's leg. He had picked up his wine glass and been holding it frozen. Now his hand started to tremble, he carefully set the goblet down. The table was small and Haley had long shape legs. She barely had to sink down in her seat as the toes, clever and agile as fingers, crept past his knee and moved towards crotch.

Oh, my fucking God!!!....

Nathan gulped and shut his eyes. Inside his head a warning system flashed red, screaming at him to panic, to shove himself away from the table because she was just doing this to amuse herself, to laugh at him.

Nathan fought it, keeping to his seat. To hell with it. Let her laugh.

The toes next found the bulge in his pants. For a moment those torturous little digits pressed gently, and Nathan broke into a fine sweat. His dick, engorged with blood, felt painfully trapped in his briefs and jeans. It wanted to greet those toes, wanted to rub up against them.

The toes somehow found the head of his cock and stroked, as if favoring a pet. Nathan gasped.

Haley lowered herself further down in the chair and Nathan found himself losing his posture to accommodate her.

What are you doing? The warning systems screamed in his head, though it was far back now. Buried almost. She's toying with you!

His cock was throbbing, his balls high and tight. His pulse was pounding in his ears and his crotch was tingling.

So, she was amusing herself. So she was going to hurt him. She was right in that he'd never experienced anything like this. It didn't matter if, in the next moment, she pulled away laughing at his desire, or kicked him with her heel and left him screaming on the restaurant floor. He wanted this memory, this experience. He wanted it desperately.

She withdrew. He blinked open his eyes, panting softly and realized that the waitress was back with their dinners. Haley didn't laugh, though she did look a little smug as she surreptitiously got her boot back on. Then she calmly tucked into her pasta. Nathan stared down at his cheesy lasagna, wondering if he could manage to keep his hands steady enough to eat.

"You weren't shitting me," Haley finally said.

Nathan swallowed a mouthful of food down past a lump. "No," he said, "I wouldn't lie to you. It's part of the deal."

Now it was her turn to look uncomfortable.

"How is it?" he asked about the garlic pasta.

"Different."

Nathan poured them more wine. "Is different good?"

"It lets me feel something, so I suppose it's good."

They ate in companionable silence until they both were full. Neither of them was able to finish the generous portions.

The restaurant gave them complimentary desserts of Neapolitan ice cream and coffee. Nathan paid the bill. It was not expensive. Had it been three times the price, however, he'd have thought the dinner a bargain.

"Where to now?" Haley asked as Nathan helped her to wear her coat back.

"We're on a date. We have dinner, and then we go out and do something. What would you like to do?" he looked at her mesmerizing brown eyes as asked.

To Be Continued!........