To drink or not to drink, that was the question. Except it wasn't the question anymore because it had been answered in the positive too many times tonight already. Sylvie Brett was drunk. Not the kind of drunk where you stumble onto a penis and have no recollection of it the next day; she was let-loose, carefree, 'fuck it', drunk, and that was exactly how she had hoped the night would go after the day she'd had.

A bad call had left her and Jimmy trying to save an entire family from a shooter. They found out after the fact (and after the mom and her ten-year-old son had already passed away) that the shooter was the mother's secret lover. Not so secret anymore, Brett thought. They had him in custody, a small victory. But that fact couldn't bring the mother and child back.

"You okay?" Jimmy asked, breaking Sylvie from her reflection, suddenly on the bar stool next to her at Molly's.

"Yep. Just thinking," she answered with a half-hearted smile, sipping her umpteenth beer.

"We can't save 'em all," Jimmy smiled, attempting to be empathetic but sounding more cold than Brett would have liked.

At this point in Brett's contemplation (and inebriation) that was the absolute worst answer. It set her off. And Sylvie Brett was not set off easily.

"We can't save them all?!" she said loudly, right into Jimmy's face. "Why the hell are you a paramedic? Why were you ever a firefighter? How the fuck can you feel like that? Just shrug off a mother and child dying because we quote can't save them all? What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"Dance with me," Kidd said, next to her suddenly and pulling her away by the arm.

"Dance with you?!" Brett yelled, adrenaline still racing as she was pulled on to the make-shift dance floor.

"You need to walk away from Jimmy. You need to walk away from work. Just dance with me," Kidd said, a smile on her face that calmed Brett down.

"Stell…" Brett tried to argue, but she was already dancing by no choice of her own.

"You hear that?" Kidd said quietly next to Brett's ear. "I know you've had enough to drink to feel that beat. Just listen to the music. Let yourself let go for a minute," she said, pulling Brett by the hips and dancing behind her.

The dance floor (if you could call it that) was packed. No one took notice of Brett and Kidd dancing except Jimmy and that was only because he had just been called out in such a way and was feeling like an ass at that point. He watched the girls dance, watched Brett's anger fade away with the mere presence of Kidd. He hadn't intended to anger her; quite the opposite, in fact. They really couldn't save them all and he knew that Brett knew that. He had no idea that this particular case had gotten to her so badly. But Kidd did, he realized. She seemed to know exactly what Brett needed at any particular time. He chalked it up to Kidd being better at reading people than he was. He sought out Cruz and Otis, trying to let it all go.

"Dude, what the hell did you do?!" Otis said, over-dramatically, as Jimmy approached their seats at the bar.

"What do you mean? What did you see?" Jimmy asked, defensive.

"I saw you creeping up on Brett and then her ripping your nuts off. Did you miss that?" Otis rolled his eyes.

"And then Kidd coming to save your ass," Cruz added.

"I, um, I told her we can't save them all," Jimmy said sheepishly, sipping his beer.

"Dude!"

"Aww!"

"Don't you know her at all?" Otis asked, shaking his head.

"Don't you know any of fifty-one at all? That's the worst thing you could ever say," Cruz told him.

"I don't understand. I wasn't trying to piss her off. I was trying to be comforting," Jimmy shrugged.

"That's not comforting at all. That's like saying that your job isn't worth a damn. You can't save them all, so what the hell are you working so hard for?" Otis said, looking over to the dance floor where Brett and Kidd were still dancing.

"I didn't mean it like that," Jimmy argued.

"And we get that, but Brett doesn't," Cruz told him.

"Should I go apologize?"

"Not now, dude," Otis told him seriously. "She's finally happy. Don't dig it up again. Just let her have her time."

On the dance floor, Brett had nearly forgotten about her argument with Jimmy. She'd never forget about the victims that she couldn't manage to save but at least right now she knew that she had done her best.

Brett was getting hot- in every sense of the word. Early May in Chicago had been warmer than usual and dancing in a tiny bar didn't help to alleviate the heat. Kidd's warm body was pressed up behind her, keeping the beat steadily and beginning to get to Brett's head. Had she had too much to drink? Probably. But she hadn't had enough to be getting flustered by dancing with her friend.

"Do you need a drink?" Kidd said from behind her, mouth a little too close to her ear for Brett's comfort in this state.

Brett pulled away from Kidd's hands on her hips, from her body entirely.

"I don't know if I should," she answered quietly, looking at the ground and her shaking hands.

"Well I'm already not letting you drive anywhere and I'm liking you as a dancing partner," Kidd said, throwing a wink in for good measure.

Brett sank. She couldn't take those puppy eyes and the vow of protection. What was wrong with her? She wanted to keep dancing with Kidd until she dropped.

"One drink," Brett said, grinning, allowing Kidd to know that she had won, despite herself.

"Ah-ha!" Kidd laughed, grabbing Brett around the waist and squeezing her, naturally. "I'll be right back. And you didn't say what kind of drink, so I guess it's up to me…" she let go of Brett, disappearing into the crowd with a huge, genuine grin on her face.

Brett was lost. She was hot and sweaty and confused and drunk and she just didn't know what to do with herself anymore. Part of her liked that feeling; she was always so in control and precise that it was a little bit nice to have a moment of disarray. She was terrified, nonetheless. Brett always had a plan for everything. Right now she didn't even know how or if she was getting home that night. She spotted Dawson's face across the bar, sitting at a table with Matt. They made eye contact intentionally and Brett's need for comfort drew her in that direction.

"Dude!" Brett said, smacking her hand on the table and looked seriously into Dawson's eyes upon reaching the booth.

"Aw, you're drunk," Dawson said with a laugh, and Matt laughed right along with her.

"No, I'm good. Why'd you say that?" Brett asked self-consciously.

"You called me dude…" Dawson grinned. "Where's Jimmy's hero?"

"Who?" Brett asked, obviously lost.

"Kidd. I heard she saved him from losing his balls to you," Dawson chuckled.

"Eyeballs, maybe," she rolled her own. "She's getting us drinks. One last drink for me, I promise," she said, giving away the fact that she was indeed drunk and worried about it.

"Okay, sailor," Dawson saluted her with a chuckle. "Seriously though, I know you had a rough day. It's okay to get fucked up. You don't have to be worried or apologise for it," she set her hand on Brett's comfortingly.

"I know, and I appreciate that but I didn't plan to get like…fucked up," she whispered the last two words like they were a secret, causing Dawson and Casey to burst out laughing.

"Who's fucked up?" Kidd asked loudly, intentionally, suddenly behind Brett with two drinks in her hands.

Brett jumped, startled.

"Your mom!" she shouted, mostly from instinct, pushing Kidd hard by both shoulders, jostling their drinks.

"Hey, if you spill these you're buying replacements!" Kidd said, setting the drinks down onto Dawson and Casey's table quickly, hoping to save them.

"I didn't want a drink in the first place," Brett argued, crossing her arms.

"Lies," Kidd said without missing a beat. "You want to keep dancing with me all night."

Brett froze. Sure, she had thought that but had she accidentally said it aloud? She didn't think she was that far gone. Could Kidd have read her mind? She completely believed in psychics but if Kidd was one then she needed to know ASAP so she could control her thoughts.

"Hey," Kidd tried to get her attention, easily noticing that she had become lost in thought. "Yo," she tried again, watching as Brett dazed off with a worried look on her face. "Sylv?" she spoke in barely a whisper the last time, finally breaking Brett out of her daze and gaining her attention. She touched her forearm softly and huge blue eyes looked up to meet her own. "You okay?"

Brett smiled, an actual, genuine smile. Kidd's concern for her was evident.

"What were you thinking?" Kidd asked quietly enough that only Brett could hear.

"That you're right," Brett said, grin widening, causing Dawson and Casey to silently wonder what was up. "I do want to keep dancing with you all night."

Kidd smiled back a huge, sincere smile. "Good," she said, a look in her eyes that was deeper than the simple word portrayed. "Then take a few sips of that and let's get to it."

"What'd you get me?" Brett asked, eyeing the brightly coloured drink strangely.

"It's a surprise," Kidd grinned, removing the Red Bull can from her own drink to take a sip.

"It's not a surprise. It's a trash can. And you are already close enough to trashed," Dawson piped up with a chuckle.

"A trash can?!" Brett exclaimed, wondering why the hell it would ever be called that.

"You ruined the surprise!" Kidd said, pushing Dawson's shoulder.

"No, I didn't. Surprise! You're drunk!" Dawson laughed.

Brett shook her head. "Maybe I shouldn't have this…" she said, just to Kidd. "I am already feeling… drunk," she chuckled.

"Babe, you'll be fine! I got you, you know that," Kidd told her seriously, touching her arm and leaving it there.

Brett raised one eyebrow skeptically, taking a sip of the drink. It was delicious.

"Well?" Kidd asked, seeing the verdict already reflected in Brett's happy eyes.

"It's good…" Brett grinned, taking another big sip. "What's in it?"

"Um…everything. That's why it's called a trash can," Kidd laughed. "Come on, we gotta dance before you pass the hell out," she said, removing the glass from Brett's hand as she took another sip and setting both of the drinks on Dawson and Casey's table. "We'll be back…" she sang, dragging Brett back to the dance floor.

The closer they got to the dance floor, the more Brett's head began to spin, and it wasn't because of the amount of alcohol in her system. Kidd's hands were on her hips already, pulling her close as a deep beat filled the room. Kidd danced like she knew what she was doing, which only made things worse for Brett. She let Kidd take the lead and just hung around for the ride. Kidd slipped behind her again, her hands never leaving Brett's hips, unintentionally pulling her closer. Brett's back was flush against Kidd's chest. She could feel the bass and the beat of Kidd's heart inside her own body. Kidd slid her hands easily over Brett's arms, reaching her hands and pulling the girl even further into her. Brett closed her eyes and just moved with the warm body behind her, smiling.

Xxx

Brett sat on her couch in sweatpants and a tank top as she stared off into space. She and Kidd had danced until the bar closed, well after they were the only people dancing. Kidd called them a cab, made sure that Brett had her keys and purse and phone, and made sure that she got home safely. She even walked Brett to the door, assuming Dawson was already asleep, to assure that she could get safely into her apartment. She hugged her goodnight. That was not a rarity for the pair but to Brett, tonight it felt different. She was lost in thought, still feeling Kidd's body pressed against hers, her breath on her neck, hearing her words whispered in her ear.

"You made it," Dawson said sleepily, coming into the living room and startling Brett from her thought.

"Yeah. Been home a while," Brett said quietly. "What are you doing up?"

"I haven't been to sleep yet. I tried, but no luck. Good thing we're off tomorrow," she shrugged, sitting on the couch next to her friend. "Did you have fun tonight?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"I did," Brett smiled naturally, still looking across the room and not at her friend, obviously only half in the conversation.

"You okay?" Dawson asked, sensing that something was up, beyond Brett's inebriation.

"Yeah…" Brett nodded solemnly, though her answer was obviously laced with question.

"What's up?" Dawson asked, concerned.

Brett sighed deeply, letting her head fall back onto the couch. She was still buzzed enough to talk more than she should and she knew it. But her mind was racing and she was also too buzzed to care.

"It's normal to dance with your friends, right? You've danced with your female friends, haven't you?" Brett asked, simply and quietly.

Brett's strangeness hit Dawson like a brick. She had been weird all night, in one way or another; Dawson had initially attributed it to the day's rough call but now it all made perfect sense. She pictured Brett's face when they first made eye contact at the bar; her half-lidded, flushed face. Dawson smiled but tried to hide it.

"Yeah, I've danced with my female friends," Dawson told her, trying to keep a straight face. "Of course it's normal." Dawson waited a beat before adding: "I'm not sure most girls end up crazy turned on by it, though…"

Brett's head shot up so quickly that it made her momentarily dizzy. She was certainly looking at Dawson now. She didn't have time to formulate an argument before her cheeks were beet red in a blush, her mouth agape.

"I…." she squeaked out, unable to come up with anything else yet.

Dawson burst out laughing. She was not trying to be insensitive or rude to her friend, but that reaction was priceless.

"I'm not… I wasn't…" Brett was shaking her head now, hard, standing from the couch and beginning to pace furiously. "You're crazy," she added, still wide-eyed.

"Brett, calm down," Dawson chuckled, patting the space on the couch next to her that Brett had just left. "Come, sit and talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about!" Brett almost shouted, feeling her heart racing in her chest. There was nowhere to hide. It was all over now.

"Brett…" Dawson said calmly. "Please don't freak out. I was just being funny."

"No you weren't…" Brett said quietly, calming.

"Please talk to me."

Brett took her seat with a huff, pulling her legs up to herself and wrapping her arms around them, feeling vulnerable. She let her head rest again and thought of where to begin. She really didn't feel like getting into all this but she knew that Dawson was the voice of reason and that getting her opinion might very well help Brett's nerves.

"She wasn't saving Jimmy tonight, she was saving me," Brett said softly, remembering the situation. "She didn't tell me that and she didn't have to. She wouldn't have cared if I ripped Jimmy's face off. She knew I was upset."

"Of course she did," Dawson nodded.

"I tried to argue with her. I was so angry and it wasn't really the time for dancing, you know? But as soon as we got out there and she had her arms around me…" Brett trailed off. "So at first it was just fun. I appreciated that she distracted me and made me feel better. But then…"

"Then what?" Dawson asked, eyes wide, looking at Brett like she was being read a bed-time story.

"I don't know," Brett shook her head, feeling silly. "Something changed. The tone. The feeling. It wasn't just two friends dancing anymore. I thought she might have felt it too, when she asked if I wanted another drink. Her lips brushed my ear and I freaked out," she admitted.

"Why did you freak out?" Dawson asked.

"Because it made me feel…"

"Hot? Horny? Wet?" Dawson asked, not even trying to be perverted, just so engrossed in the story.

"Dawson!" Brett scoffed, embarrassed, tossing a pillow at her friend.

"What? Are those wrong?"

"No…" Brett admitted. "But it was so much more than that. I didn't know what to do. I was so terrified about how I was feeling but I was so into her that I never wanted it to stop." Brett put her head on her knees, feeling lost and defeated.

"Brett, just talk to her about it," Dawson said seriously.

"Ha!" Brett rolled her eyes. "Yeah, of course. I'll just talk to her about it," she said sarcastically. "'So, Stell, remember when we were dancing the other night? Yeah, I got really hot and bothered and I kind of just want to do that all the time,'" Brett practically spat.

"I mean maybe I wouldn't say it just like that, but…"

BEEP BEEP

Brett's phone alerted a text and drew the girls from their intense conversation. Both Brett and Dawson looked at the phone in surprise. It was four-thirty in the morning, not a common time for either girl to be having a text message conversation.

Brett shrugged at Dawson and picked up her phone, though she had a feeling that she already knew who it was contacting her.

[Hey babe. I hope that you're fast asleep and feeling okay. Hope that trash can didn't do you in. I had fun with you tonight. Sleep well. – Stella]

Brett smiled the widest smile unknowingly, alerting Dawson to just who was texting. Dawson smiled to herself for her friend.

"What'd she say?" Dawson asked, nudging her excitedly.

Brett looked at Dawson and smiled, holding her phone up for her to see. Dawson's smile spread, seeing the happiness in her friend.

"Talk to her, Brett."

Xxx

Ten o'clock the next morning found Brett unfortunately awake and incredibly groggy. Her head was pounding and her eyes couldn't open more than a quarter of the way. She wished for sleep but her body found her awake regardless.

Dawson was running around the kitchen like someone who hadn't had too much to drink the night before, despite being up until nearly six a.m. with her roommate.

"What are you doing today?" Dawson asked happily, pouring a cup of coffee for each of them, already dressed and ready for her day.

"As of right now, being hung over," Brett grumbled, her voice still gravelly from sleep. "Later I hope to go buy some groceries and then come home and eat them, assuming my stomach isn't still turning."

"Aww…" Dawson said sympathetically, even sticking her bottom lip out sadly. "Anything else?" she asked, obviously pointedly.

"Nope," Brett answered, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing like… talking to Kidd?" Dawson asked with a grin.

"No, Gabby, I'm not going to talk to Kidd. We were drunk, we danced, I'm going to leave it at that," Brett told her, too exhausted to be having this conversation right now.

"Well it's not like she's going to leave you alone all day. What happens when she texts or calls?"

"Then I will talk to her normally, like I do every other day, as though last night never happened," she grumbled.

"Do you want her to think you forgot about it?" Dawson asked, way too upbeat for Brett to handle in her current state.

"I didn't forget. I want her to know that it wasn't a big deal," Brett said honestly.

"But it was a big deal…" Dawson sang, suddenly interrupted by a knock on their door.

"Ugh…" Brett growled, pulling the blanket that she was snuggling with on the couch over her head.

"Don't worry, Matt's stopping over," Dawson smiled, almost bounding to the door.

Dawson threw the door open happily, expecting to see her boyfriend, only to be met by Stella Kidd with a brown paper bag in her hand.

"Hey, Gabby. Sorry to bug you so early. I was worried about Sylvie. I thought she'd be feeling pretty nasty today. I wanted to bring her some hangover remedies," Kidd smiled casually, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Had she made a mistake by just dropping in?

"Aww… how sweet," Dawson said pointedly, earning an eye roll from Kidd.

"Is she awake yet?" Kidd asked, instinctively looking past Dawson into the apartment.

"She is," Dawson informed her. "But barely," she grinned. "Brett," Dawson called into the apartment with a tone that she knew Brett could read. "It's for you."

Brett uncovered her head and squinted into the kitchen to see Kidd smiling before her. She felt suddenly self-conscious. She had only gotten as far as crawling out of bed and to the couch. She hadn't brushed her hair or teeth. Hell, she'd barely opened her eyes.

"Hi," Brett smiled despite herself, seeing Kidd approach the couch with an empathetic look on her face.

"Hey…" Kidd smiled softly. "You're looking like you feel about how I expected you to feel."

"I'm so disheveled. I'm sorry," Brett chuckled nervously, smoothing her hair to the best of her ability and trying like hell to be a little less groggy.

"Babe, don't be sorry about that," Kidd told her, smiling and placing a warm hand on her weak shoulder. "I brought some headache medicine- aspirin-free; I know you're allergic- I got some water, some kale juice and an egg sandwich. That should help at least a little."

From the kitchen Dawson just watched and smiled. She had to hold in her laughter when it came to the aspirin comment.

"You didn't have to do that, Stell," Brett said, smiling regardless.

"I just wanted you to feel better," Kidd smiled.

Kidd dug into her little paper bag and pulled out the migraine pills, pouring two into her hand and giving them to Brett. The water came next.

"Take these, first. You probably didn't drink any water at all last night, did you?"

Brett just shook her head sheepishly, swallowing the pills and taking a drink of water.

"Now drink like a quarter of this, at least," Kidd opened the bottle of kale juice and handed it carefully to her friend.

"This stuff's nasty though," Brett scrunched up her nose.

"I don't care. Drink it," Kidd told her, holding her hand firmly against Brett's shoulder until she took the bottle from her hands and had a sip.

Brett made a disgusted face almost immediately, but Kidd had her resolve face on and she took another drink, plastering a fake smile on her face after a quarter of the bottle was gone.

"Good girl," Kidd grinned, putting the cap back on the bottle and walking into the kitchen to put it in the refrigerator.

Brett rested her head on the back of the couch and watched as Kidd and Dawson interacted in the kitchen. She couldn't quite hear what they were saying (thanks, mostly, to the fog of the hangover) but they looked comfortable and happy. She felt so fortunate to have each of them in her life, even if for different reasons. Brett caught Kidd's eye when the girl glanced over at her and they both smiled.

"Poor thing," Kidd said softly as she re-approached the couch. "I feel bad."

"You didn't make me drink all that," Brett smiled up at her as she sat down next to her on the couch- right next to her.

"No, but the trash can was probably like the big nasty cherry on top of how you're feeling today," Kidd admitted, wrapping her arm around Brett's shoulders naturally and drawing her near.

"It was delicious, though," Brett smiled through half-lidded eyes, allowing herself to take comfort in the feeling of her friend next to her.

"Just rest," Kidd said in a near whisper, pulling the blanket up around them both. "You'll feel better soon."

"I don't want to fall asleep on you," Brett said in a sleepy, raspy tone, though she rested her head on Kidd's shoulder nonetheless.

"Shh…" Kidd whispered, pushing the hair away from Brett's ear. She felt Brett's breathing slow and deepen almost immediately after being pulled into her comfortable embrace. She ran her hand through Brett's hair and smiled, unaware that Dawson was watching with a grin from the kitchen.

Xxx

When Matt knocked on the apartment door thirty minutes later, Dawson sprinted to it in order to let him in and quickly hush him. He was wide-eyed and obviously confused by his girlfriend's odd behavior. He opened his mouth to question her only to be hushed again.

"Gabby, what the hell?" he asked in a whisper, looking at her like she was insane at this point.

"I just don't want you to wake them. Brett had a rough night," she told him, nodding toward the living room where Brett and Kidd were fast asleep on the couch, quite entangled.

Casey's eyebrows raised and then furrowed all in one quick motion.

"Doesn't look too rough to me," he said with a chuckle, earning a smack from Dawson. "Call me crazy, but I have no idea what's going on," he said, stepping into the bedroom where he could speak at a nearer to normal volume.

"They're having a nap," Dawson said as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Do they have naps together often?" Casey asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No!" Dawson scoffed, but then her expression changed. "At least, I don't think so… but they were pretty natural about it this morning…"

"I still don't know what's going on…"

"Brett's hungover, she barely slept. Kidd showed up a little bit ago to bring her some hangover remedies," Dawson told him.

"That all makes sense. Where'd the nap come in?" he asked, sitting on the bed.

"Um…" Dawson realized that she didn't have an answer for that.

"Have you ever slept with your friends like that? Are there things I need to know…" Casey said goofily, poking her.

"Of course I never slept with a friend like that!" Dawson exclaimed, inadvertently implying that it was abnormal for Brett and Kidd to be doing it.

"Wait…. They're not like, together, are they?" Casey asked with just a touch of child-like excitement at the idea of two females.

"No, Matt, they're not together," Dawson said, but with just a little less passion than she needed.

"Why did you say it like that?" Casey asked suspiciously.

"Like what?" Dawson asked innocently.

"Like you weren't sure if you meant it."

"Matt, they are not together," she tried again.

"But….?"

"But nothing! Leave it alone. You're a perv," she said, frustrated.

"I'm not a perv! Well, at least, that's not why I'm asking about this. Mostly," he admitted with a grin. "There's obviously something you're not telling me and if it's because it's none of my business, that's fine, but don't lie about it."

"You're right," she nodded. "I didn't exactly lie to you, though. I don't know what's going on," she shrugged.

"Can I take a picture of them and send it to Otis?!" Casey asked excitedly, mostly joking.

"No, you perv!"

Men.

Xxx