Prompt: I locked myself out of my apartment and I know I just met you yesterday but I need to climb out your window and onto my balcony

Lincoln tried his best to not smack the grocery bag against the stairs as he made his way up to his apartment. It was a difficult job considering how heavy the damn thing was, and the amount of anxiety riding on those eggs on the top didn't make things easier. He sighed with relief as he finally completed the last stretch of stairway. He was at his door, fumbling for his keys when he heard a friendly "Hi!" from behind him. He whipped around immediately, putting his hand up defensively and in doing so, lost control of his grocery bag. He watched in horror as the bag slipped out of his hands and in turn the precariously balanced eggs carton on top slid (in slow motion, it seemed) off the pile and hit the ground.

"Shit!" He looked up in anger at the person who had startled him and was taken aback when he discovered a pretty, if now apprehensive, girl. She was staring at the fallen eggs with regret. He felt his anger soften; it wasn't mystery-girl's fault.

"Don't worry about it." She gave a start and seemed to remember he was there.

"Oh, um... I'm not trying to be rude, but why don't you take the elevator? I'm pretty sure our evil stairs have a bit of a grudge against you."

"Elevator?" He said in confusion. She gestured across the hall to what he had thought was a closet of some kind.

"Where's the button?" She smiled with a bit of what seemed like sympathy and pushed a little black indent in the wall with a white down arrow on it.

"I, um, never noticed that before."

"I figured." She said, still talking with that sympathy-smile. Okay Lincoln, get it together. You're talking to a pretty girl. Let's turn this around so you don't look like so much of an idiot.

He dropped the dopey look on his face and smiled.

"I'm Lincoln."
"Skye. Nice to meet you." After that there was a bit of an awkward silence. Lincoln furiously racked his brain for things to say while Skye seemed to notice something on the ceiling.

"Well..."

"Yeah." Lincoln stepped backwards and pushed his door open, still facing Skye. "I should go, my friends are coming over and I have some food to make. They eat like a pack of hyenas, so... I'll see you around?"

"Sure." This was the first time he'd seen her actually smile, without guilt or sympathy or discomfort clouding it. He had to admit he liked it. "I'm in 5C, right next to you"

"I'll keep that in mind." He gave a short wave and a grin, and then picked up his fallen groceries and headed inside.

Skye waved at her neighbor as they passed each other in front of the apartment building. Odd that she didn't know that woman's name. She'd lived here for a while. But then apparently, so had Lincoln, and she'd never met him until this morning, when she was heading out. Maybe he hadn't been here long, now that she thought of it. He didn't know where the elevator was, after all. She chuckled a bit as she got into that very elevator. Skye had to admit it wasn't easy to spot when you first came in. It was tucked away in a bit of an odd place.

The elevator dinged and let her out on her floor. She went quite slowly down the dark hall, almost wishing that she would happen to run into Lincoln again as she passed his doorway. No such luck, though. She could hear the TV blaring inside his apartment. No other voices, though. Sounded like his friends had come and gone while she was out.

Skye came to her door, patting down her pockets and trying to remember which one she'd put her keys in. It became more frantic as she realized they were all empty.

"Noooo." She breathed as frantically tried to rack her brains for anywhere they could be besides her pockets, but came up empty-handed.

"Damn it!" She said in frustration as she leaned her head against her door. There weren't really many options at this point. She reluctantly turned herself back towards the hallway and made her way to 5B.

Lincoln awoke with a start. Someone was knocking on the door. Maybe Leo come back for the sweater he'd left here. He got up slowly and mussed his hair back, yawning as he did so, and almost tripping over the couple stray boxes he still hadn't unpacked.

When he finally reached the door, he got a bit of a surprise. Skye was in the hallway, wringing her hands nervously with a faint blush on her cheeks.

"What – um, Skye?"

"Hi there." The blush was more pronounced now.

"What's – uh, what's up?" He wiped the drool off his face and tried to fix his hair as best he could.

"Well..." She shifted from side to side. "Ikindoflockedmyselfoutofmyapartment." Lincoln stared at her for a minute.

"I'm sorry, what?" She blushed even more brightly, if possible, and swallowed hard.

"I'm, um, kinda locked out of my apartment?"

"Oh." She looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

"I usually keep my – uh – the screen door on my balcony unlocked." He stared at her again for a minute until he got it.

"Hang on, you're not suggesting – we're on the fifth floor!"

"I know." she said with a grim look on her face. "You gonna let me try or what?"

"Are you sure you – maybe I should do it."

"Nah, I can't ask you for that. I'm fine with putting my safety at risk, but I don't think I could do so with you and still feel morally okay with it."

"C'mon – let me. I've got longer legs."

"All the more to lose if you slip and hit the ground from five floors up." Both their faces paled at the thought. "It's settled then, I'm doing it." She invited herself in past him and walked over to the door out onto his balcony.

"I can't just let you –" he began, trying to block her way.

"– It isn't up to you." She replied, sizing the distance up between the two balconies. She then turned back and glanced at him. "If I die, I'd like you to take my apartment and turn it into a shrine to Bill Withers, please."

"Bill Withers?" She stopped dragging the patio chair over to the edge of the balcony to look at him.

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows to demonstrate his confusion. "If I don't die in the next five minutes, remind me to lend you a couple of decent CDs."

"Will do, but –"

"Wish me luck." Lincoln tensed up as she carefully climbed over the railing.

"Don't look down."

"Thanks for the advice. Now the only thing I wanna do is look – shit, this is terrifying. She replied in a shaky voice.

"Don't talk, it defers from your concentration." She nodded, swallowed hard and slid onto the ledge that connected the balconies. Shit, shit, shit. Don't fall don't fall don'tfall dontfalldontfalldontfall, Lincoln tried to telepathically communicate to Skye. She progressed very slowly across the several feet that separated their balconies.

Finally, she swung her leg over the railing of her balcony. Lincoln released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Skye put both feet down on the concrete and immediately slid to the ground.

"You okay?" He called over, eyebrows creasing with worry. She nodded and flailed an arm to reassure him. After a minute she got up, breathing heavily, and leaned on the pane of glass that surrounded her screen door. She turned her body towards the door and pulled on the latch.

It was locked.

Lincoln laughed; he couldn't help it. She turned back towards him with a look that probably could've turned water to stone.

"Well, what do I do now?" His laughter faded to a faint chuckling and then stopped altogether.

"You're really screwed, aren't you." He realized. There was a very small chance she'd be willing to come back over here, but there was no way she could get inside.

"You know what? Screw this." Skye stepped back and grabbed one the metal chairs on her balcony that she could barely even lift.

"Wait – what are you – Skye – SKYE!" It wouldn't have mattered what he said next, she was already in full swing. The chair shattered the pane of glass and carried Skye with it. The momentum pulled her into her apartment and down to the glass-covered ground. She had the sense to let go of the chair and fling out her hands to try and cushion her fall. It helped, but not much. Her hands were bleeding, and she made grunts of pain as she got up and went into her apartment.

"Skye!" Lincoln hollered. "Skye, are you okay?!" There was no reply.

A minute later, he heard a knock on his door. He sprinted to open it, this time actually tripping over the boxes near the front.

It was Skye. She had a first aid kit in her cut up and bloody hands.

"Think you can help me with this? Also, do you know a good place for glass replacement?" He laughed again; something that seemed to be a constant with her.

"I don't know a good place, no. There's always the phone book, though." He pushed the door wider to allow her in. "C'mon in and let's help you with those hands of yours."