They sit at a booth, a few feet from the bar. The booth is pushed up against the brick wall. She pushes her plate away. He downs another drink.
She notices him looking at her. He smiles. He wonders if she can tell that he's blushing. No, probably not, they were both on their way to being pretty drunk. Why they had thought that going out for drinks after work, was beyond him. She smiles, revealing her dimples.
"What are you smiling at?"
"You have ketchup on your shirt."
He looks down, his cheeks sting with embarrassment.
"Made you look," she laughs.
He feels a spark, between them. She watches him, as he watches her. She wonders how this will end. She feels herself wondering if he's thinking the same thing that she is.
"We should probably head home."
"One more round."
"Ok," he agrees.
One more round ends up being four. He finishes his final drink. He looks at her.
"We should get home. Do you want me to drive you home?"
"Frost that's the dumbest thing I've heard you say in a while. You are as drunk as I am."
"Then let's go hail you a cab."
"That sounds more like it."
"You know, my place is closer. You could crash on my couch."
"Are you trying to take me home with you?"
"I just thought that's what the right thing to do would be. If we were at a bar near your place you'd offer me your couch."
"Can I sleep with your batman pillow?" she teases.
"I don't have a batman pillow."
"Spiderman, then?"
"No. It's a pull out couch, it's actually pretty comfortable."
"Batman sheets, and all?"
"It doesn't have batman sheets."
"What kind of sheets does it have?"
"Why are you obsessing over the sheets?"
"Are they clean?"
"Yes. They're clean."
"What kind of sheets?"
"They're just plain sheets, Jane."
"What color, are they?"
"Grey."
"Not white?"
"I have bad luck with laundry Jane, I'd ruin them. That's why everything I wear to work goes to the dry cleaner."
"Fine," she agrees.
Ten minutes later, after a bumpy cab ride they arrive at his place. She follows him up the few stairs to his porch. She squints at the light, from the porch light. He fumbles with the key. He hopes that she doesn't notice how nervous he looks. He pushes the door open. She follows him in. He moves towards the couch. He pushes the coffee table to the side of the room. Jane stands, marveling at the huge flat screen TV, in the corner, near the door. Frost pulls out the couch. He grabs her some pillows.
"Thanks."
He yanks at his tie.
She smiles, knowing that he's too drunk to get it off.
"You want some help with that?"
"If you wouldn't mind," he answers.
She steps closer to him. She easily removes the tie. They stand frozen, as the tie falls to the floor. She stares at him. He looks at her. The spark becomes electricity, as hormones take over the situation. She notices how close they are standing to one another. For some reason she chooses to close the distance. She presses her lips against his.
And with one kiss, all bets are off. Before she knows what's going on, they've moved to the couch. She ignores the scene of the room. It looks as if a bomb has gone of, and clothes have flown everywhere.
Hours later, she begins to wake up. She opens her eyes, and makes the discovery. She finds herself on the couch, under a tangled sheet, next to her partner. She looks at him. She carefully slides out from under his left arm. She makes sure not to snag her hair, in the band of his watch. She grabs her bra, which is lying over the back of the couch. She slides off the couch, and finds her underwear a few feet away. She slips on her panties. She frantically pulls on the rest of her clothes.
She heads to the door. She turns back, for a brief moment. She feels relief, when she realizes that he's still asleep. She steps out the door, and makes the realization that she has no car. A ten minute car ride, from the bar. That was going to be a long walk of shame. She pats her jacket pocket. Phone, and wallet. She could call a cab, but it would take forever. While she tries to sort out the options luck comes her way. A cab comes down the street, towards her. She waves it down, and climbs inside.
When she arrives home she peels off her clothes, and steps into the shower. When she gets out of the shower, she takes a pill, to try and remedy her hangover. She attempts to go back to sleep. This proves futile. She finds herself wide awake. Her phone rings.
"Rizzoli," she answers, praying that it's not Frost.
"I know that it's Saturday, but..."
"But, what Maura?"
"We've got a body."
"Ok, I'll meet you there."
"Something wrong?"
"No, why would you think that?"
"You sound funny."
"I'm fine," she lies.
"Did something happen last night?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
"Did you meet someone at the bar, and go home with them?"
"No, I went home with Frost," she feels a sense of panic, as the words fall from her mouth, against her will.
"You did what?'
"His house was closer to the bar. He offered me his couch."
"And nothing happened?"
"No," she replies, too quickly.
"No, then why do you sound so guilty?"
"I..."
"Jane, did you sleep with your partner?"
"I..."
"Did you sleep with Frost?"
"Yes," she responds.
"Are you serious?"
"You can't tell anyone."
"How was it?"
"I am not going to discuss this with you, in any further detail. You know, and that is all I am going to tell you. If you mention it to him, I will kill you."