A/N: I apologize if this is confusing. I wrote most of this sleep-deprived.

Hat tipped over his eyes, Sky headed down the sidewalk, watching his feet as he walked. A ways behind him was the mission that contained the girl he had unwittingly let himself attach to. What had he said to her? He was in love?

Sky Masterson had been with many girls before. It was hard not to during those nights in warm night clubs crammed with people, him in his sleek suits and them in rather tight dresses. They were rather flimsy relationships; a night of passion and hungry lips in the backseat of a car somewhere, only to result in a memory of what's-her-face in Savannah.

He stopped at the corner of the sidewalk, observing the streets that had been vacant half an hour ago slowly being occupied. A sad, crooked smile crossed his face. New York was so big; he could tread through the city all the way through and back and go virtually undetected. All the cities he had seen in the world didn't compare to New York now.

Mainly because of a feisty mission girl.

Moving across the street with hands in his pockets, he lifted his head up. The rose glow of a new morning was spilling across the sky. The magic of Havana was wearing off, leaving him empty. The antidote was the woman back in the mission.

He smiled wistfully to himself. Ever since he was young, he had been a roamer. Traveling across foreign countries gave him a thrill, almost as much as the beauties who resided there: different accents, hair pulled up into tight buns or left flowing around their shoulders, teasing smiles and eyes that summoned him, and those crimson lips begging to be touched.

After he would leave them, he never really thought about them again. He was just another tourist passing through, but not until he walked down the street as New York woke up did he wonder what they thought about him. Maybe he was over thinking it, but maybe he should've thought about it before.

He gave a spiteful laugh. It was a stupid bet. The thought would have never crossed his mind to take her to a city across the ocean if he hadn't taken it. He tried pushing Sarah out of his head, just another one of those pretty faces without a name from that night so long ago.

But Sarah Brown wasn't just a pretty face.

Sky stopped, leaning against the wall of a building. His fingers itched to hold something. He hadn't smoked a cigarette in a while; this was one of the few moments he wished he had one. From the distance he saw a person walking down the street, suit on, hat atop of his head, and briefcase in hand. Flicking an invisible cigarette from his hand, he wondered how long he had been wandering.

He started moving again, nodding to the man and receiving a nod back as they passed. The sun was almost done rising. He sighed, wishing for a few more hours of night. Nighttime always helped him think through things better.

It had all gone down so fast. Sarah had been singing and spinning around in Havana, lips pleading to be kissed, and then as she sobered up her feelings remained the same. Sky never believed that someone could fall in love that fast, but he had proved himself wrong. He said he wanted it to be a surprise when he fell in love, and surprise it was indeed.

But now it was ruined.

Sky never felt tired even after staying up all night. Now he felt weary, feet wanting to rest and body wanting to sleep. But his mind wouldn't stop moving, a problem that frequently kept him from getting any rest. He couldn't see how he would ever fall asleep now knowing she thought he was a fraud. His heart ached as he remembered her rather fluid movements for being a bit drunk; her soft, big eyes staring up at him as she fell into his arms at the courtyard; those words confiding in him that she felt the same way back, kissing him sweetly.

He hadn't realized he was leaning against another building, hands still stuffed in his pockets and head tipped back so his eyes were visible underneath his hat. More people were out and about, taxicabs flooding the streets. The loudness that usually resided in the city was crescendo-ing into the melodious cacophony known as New York City.

Even through that the thoughts that persisted to stay in his mind were yelling even louder.

He hadn't blown it with Sarah. Nathan did. Would he even dare to go back and beg for her forgiveness? Maybe it was best to let the religion-oriented doll stay untouched after playing with and being burned by romance. She shouldn't get involved with him in the first place; he was nothing but a gambler. No real home or job; just a guy who got lucky when it came to betting everything he had on a game of chance.

Sighing, he started walking again. He'd best get over her. He would have to forget the chills he had in Havana as she smiled at him in the moonlight, wild and free for the first time. He'd have to forget the fact he shared with her things he kept to himself, like being named Obadiah and his favorite time of day. He'd have to forget the kisses they'd shared and the fact it might've meant something to him.

He'd have to forget the loveliest 4 AM he'd ever had.

Something about her, though, kept her vivid in his mind. He could still remember her every movement, her every expression since they first met. Her laughter was still fresh in his mind, the memory of the warmth of her lips refusing to go stale. There was something magical about her, sending chills up his spine when her body was against his. He had never wanted to share the moment when the night sunk into the gradual illumination of the sky, but now he wanted nothing more than to be beside her, hands entwined every time the clock struck four.

The feeling had come so fast it knocked him off his feet, leaving him breathless. He needed to do one more thing for her before he left New York possibly for the last time.

The marker he had given her crossed his mind. He still owed her twelve sinners for going with him to Havana. Sky Masterson was always one to go through with a deal, and maybe these sinners would be his last apologetic farewell. Maybe she would think that he did love her or he was a man of his word. Maybe it wouldn't do anything at all.

It wouldn't hurt to try, though.

He smiled as the sun shone bright overhead. Maybe his affair with Sarah Brown was over. It was silly to think anything in the first place. But she already knew him and he already knew her in ways others don't know.

He might be Sky Masterson to everybody else. But he would always be Obadiah to her.