Save The Last Dance

Her husband's disappointing voice-mail was still ringing in her ears when excitable knocks at the front door drew Haley James Scott out of bed and down the stairs that morning. Her older sister Quinn practically bounced over the threshold into the house, giving Haley's baggy pajamas a judgmental glance. "You're not going to the dance dressed like that, are you?" the tall brunette asked after a quick kiss of greeting.

"Some of us just rolled out of bed," the younger James girl protested. "And my wakeup call wasn't exactly great motivation to get dolled up."

"What do you mean?" Quinn frowned, switching the plastic bag she was holding from one hand to the other, making the contents rattle mysteriously. "I brought my curling iron," she beamed proudly at Haley's questioning stare. "Here's to completing my life-long desire to crimp my hair."

"You really need to re-think that life goal, sweetie," Haley told her with an affectionate eye-roll.

"All for the good of the arts," Quinn shot back. "The more we look the part, the more money will come in at the fundraiser. That totally wasn't the point though, what was this discouraging wakeup call about?" she pressed curiously.

"It was Nathan," Haley sighed. "He said they ran into some car trouble so he and Clay are stuck in Atlanta." She watched her sister's bubbly grin fade slightly at the news and added unnecessarily; "That means it's up to us to impress at Tree Hill High tonight, seeing as they probably won't make it home in time for the dance."

"That sucks turtle eggs," Quinn pouted.

"Turtle eggs? Really?" Haley shook her head, biting her lip to suppress a giggle.

"Is Brooke coming to the dance tonight?" Quinn asked, swiftly changing the subject.

"I have no idea; things between her and Julian have been really tense lately. I don't think she's too happy about Alex being such a big part of his new movie," said her sister with a shrug. "Quit changing the subject, face the fact that you're a huge dork."

"Proud of it, babe," Quinn winked at her and started up the stairs. "Clay loved the turtle eggs thing, just saying. Later, Hales, I'm commandeering your mirror now."

"That's because he can be even dorkier than you…really says something by the way," Haley called after her and turned away with a smile at the sound of her sister's chuckles fading away up the staircase. Ten minutes later, Jamie came charging down the stairs, wide-eyed and with even his usual bedhead looking abnormally wild. "Good morning, sunshine," Haley greeted him cheerfully with a kiss on the forehead as she served up a plate of waffles. "Why do you look like you've just seen a ghost?"

"I saw Aunt Quinn," Jamie gasped, obviously still processing a major shock. "She jumped on me to wake me up and her hair was pimped!"

"I hope you mean crimped," Haley corrected seriously, but her eyes were sparkling with amusement.

"That's right, crimped…half-crimped, actually." Jamie shuddered at the memory, still looking positively horrified.

"At least now you'll have a fun story to share with Junk and Fergie tonight," Haley laughed as Jamie's wide eyes rolled in exasperation. "Be good, okay?"

"Mom, I'm seven," he protested.

"And I refuse to be arrested for child neglect," she shot back readily. "Your Aunt Brooke calls me Jailey as it is. Deal with it, little man." With that, she nodded at his plate of waffles and started up the stairs. "Eat up, I'm going to see if Aunt Quinn needs a hand getting ready."

"Love you, Mom," Jamie called after her in resignation and Haley blew him a kiss before she too vanished up the stairs.

"Incoming," said Haley in a sing-song voice when she nudged the door to the master bedroom open on the upper floor. "You traumatized my kid," she informed Quinn, stepping into the room and pushing the door shut again behind her. Her sister was standing in front of the dresser, yanking at the cable of the curling iron in her hand with a frustrated grimace. "You want some help with that?" Haley offered, approaching Quinn with an amused look on her face. "The back can be tricky."

"It's like junior prom all over again," the fidgety brunette groaned, slamming the curling iron down on the dresser and flopping onto her back on Nathan and Haley's bed. "I mean, what's the point of this effort if our men can't even make it to the dance?" Staring blankly up at the ceiling, she released a quavering sigh; "It's not fair."

"Hey, I thought I was the Debbie Downer here since Nathan's message earlier," Haley joked, but the faint smile slipped away at the pure disappointment on her sister's face. "What's gotten into you, Q? We're gonna rock this fundraiser, with or without Nathan and Clay. Obviously, it's unfortunate, but it's not like they're missing out on purpose."

"I know that…I guess I just wanted one perfect dance," Quinn sighed and sat up, biting down on her quivering lower lip. "Junior prom was the night Dan Thomson dumped me hours before the dance, as Taylor so generously reminded me at dinner the other night. I suppose I was kind of hoping for a better sort of prom-related memory."

"Come here, you big sap," said Haley firmly and dragged her sister to her feet and back over to the mirror above the dresser. "You listen to me, alright? We don't need our men as an excuse to look totally hot and bring in that funding tonight, do we?" She pressed a kiss to the shoulder of Quinn's lacy top and squeezed her sister tightly, before reaching for the curling iron. "Now hand that thing over and let's get this show on the road."

"You're right," said Quinn faintly, smiling reluctantly at her pink-cheeked reflection. "Sorry, I know I'm being silly. You make everything better, Hales, you know that?"

"You're not silly, you're a…what is it Mom calls you? A heart girl, isn't it?" Haley corrected her affectionately. "Dan Thomson was an idiot and missed out on a great night, I'll have you know. I have a feeling Clay would never willingly do anything of the sort. They might make it back in time with a bit of luck, no point getting into a sulk now."

"You're never going to let Dan off the hook for what he did, are you?" Quinn asked and now there was the hint of a sparkle back in her pale blue eyes. "It kind of reminds me of that night. We managed to have a pretty good time in spite of him."

"We sure did," Haley agreed, then she attacked the back of Quinn's head with the curling tongs and thoughtful silence fell between the sisters.

June 2001 – Prom Night

It was mid-June, the day of Tree Hill High's junior prom and Karen's Café had been experiencing an unusual rush of customers desperate for cold drinks and ice cream all day. Karen Roe had even had her thirteen-year-old son Lucas and his best friend Haley helping to wait tables in the mad rush. The crowds did finally subside, but her two young helpers were still running on such adrenaline that Karen saw her son visibly flinch when a teenage girl in a sparkly sequined top burst through the door, making the bells overhead tinkle at her entrance. He was still staring at her when Haley dropped the rag she'd been using to scrub a table where someone had spilled a smoothie. "Oh my God! Quinnie, what happened?"

Lucas' jaw dropped while Haley attempted to steer her shaking older sister into a chair. "Wow, Quinn…you look, uh…" he babbled, not even noticing Haley roll her eyes at him.

"Not good enough for Dan Thomson," the sixteen-year-old finished for him, her voice trembling pathetically.

"I was going to say very pretty actually," Lucas corrected, pulling up the chair opposite her. "What happened?"

"He dumped me, Haley," Quinn choked, running her fingers through her crimped curls in agitation and flinching when her nails got stuck. "Dan decided at the last minute he doesn't want to go to prom with me. It's tonight and I don't have a date anymore. Damn it!"

"Oh Quinn," her sister sighed. "Here, hold still for a second." Quinn buried her face in her hands and Lucas watched her awkwardly while Haley darted purposefully into the backroom. Moments later she returned with a hairbrush in her hand. "I keep it in my bag," she explained at Lucas' amazed stare. "You never know when it might come in handy. I am still a girl, you know."

"Point taken," said Lucas and turned to watch while Haley positioned herself behind Quinn and began brushing the manufactured tangles out of her sister's hair. "That looks like it hurts."

"I want to hurt Dan," Haley growled under her breath. "Boys are so dumb!"

"Hey," Lucas protested; "There's no need to generalize, Hales. Dan Thomson is dumb, that's all."

"Yeah," she mumbled angrily; "Sorry Luke, I'm just pissed off at that idiot."

"I can see that," Lucas laughed, stopping when she glared at him. He gazed out the window for a moment, observing the dull streets of Tree Hill's hazy summer afternoon instead. "Hopefully you can cool that temper and quit generalizing for at least me and your brothers," he said eventually.

"What do my brothers have to do with anything?" asked Haley, smoothing out the last of the unfortunate curls.

"Isn't that Nick's car?" said Lucas, pointing out the window to where a black Kia had just screeched to a halt in front of the café.

Still squeezing Quinn's fingers consolingly, Haley turned to see what he was talking about and beamed; "What a nice surprise, Quinnie look!"

Wiping her eyes, Quinn turned just as the bell over the café's front door tinkled again and their middle brother Nick walked in. "You James' sure know how to make an entrance," Lucas remarked while the girls bounded from their chairs to hug their brother.

"This must be my lucky day, two for one special," the twenty-three-year-old laughed, one arm around each of his sisters. "Hey, Luke. Is your Mom around? I'm a little desperate!"

"I'll just get her," said Lucas, getting obligingly to his feet. "Good to see you, Nicky."

"You too," said Nick absently, busy looking Quinn up and down. "Interesting fashion choices, Q," he commented, frowning when her lips began to quiver. "Hey, did I say something wrong?"

"It's junior prom tonight," Haley told him. "Quinn's date just told her last minute he doesn't want to go with her. That explains the look and the tears."

"Oh man," said their brother sympathetically. Haley stepped aside so that he could hug Quinn properly. "I'm sorry, Q. Do I need to kill somebody?"

"I wonder what Laura would have to say about that," replied Quinn with a half-hearted smile, the words muffled as her face pressed against his chest.

"Yeah, probably not such a great idea actually," he admitted, squeezing her harder anyway.

"What are you doing here anyway, dude?" asked Haley curiously and her brother rolled his eyes.

"Ice cream," he said simply; "Laura insisted she had to have Karen's ice cream."

"You drove two hours from Raleigh for ice cream?" Quinn said incredulously. "What's the point? It'll be goo by the time you get home in this weather."

"I'm not stupid enough to argue with an eight months pregnant woman, sis," he said simply. "What Laura wants she gets. Hopefully, Karen will have a cooler or something handy."

"Karen's pretty handy that way," Haley assured him. "She'll figure something out, don't worry." She perched at the piano in the corner of the room and her siblings stared at her curiously. "I'm overdue for a practice, why don't you dance with Quinn since her date is a moron?"

Nick looked at Quinn, now with her mascara smudged rather pitifully; "You want to?" he asked. "I'm a little out of practice but if it makes your night suck less, my honor."

"Seriously?" said Quinn hopefully and when he nodded she threw herself at him so hard she almost knocked him flat. "Thanks, Nicky, missed you so much."

"Back at you, Quinnie-Bear," he said softly, swaying in time with Haley's tinkling piano tune and that was how Lucas and Karen found them when they returned with enough ice cream to feed an army.

"Kind of funny, isn't it?" said Quinn when her sister finally laid down the curling tongs and stepped back to admire her handiwork. "When Dan dumped me that prom night you helped me get the stupid curls out of my hair and now here you are perfecting them. You really are gifted, Haley Bob."

"Funny, Clay says the same thing about you," Haley replied. "Since it's your questionable life goal, might as well do it right, don't you think? You look hot, Quinnie."

"Too bad the chances of Nicky swooping in tonight are zero if Clay and Nathan don't make it home," her sister sighed.

"They'll make it," said Haley confidently, looping her arms around Quinn from behind. "Cheer up, we'll have fun, I promise."

A few hours later – Tree Hill High Dance

Quinn dropped into one of the vacant barstools in the corner of Tree Hill High's transformed gym hall, wiggling her toes as best as possible in the stylish lace-up boots she had been so enthusiastic about a few hours ago. TRIC's supposedly psychic bartender Grubbs turned to her with his trademark kindly smile; "Hey Quinn, what can I get you?"

"A way to get the lipstick graffiti off my windshield maybe?" she muttered. "Or magically get my boyfriend here right now, one of the two. I can't even hate that bitch Kylie anymore, it's not fair."

"That all sounds a little out of my wheelhouse," he mused. "You need a strong…something clearly." She barely watched as he turned away and poured something into a shot glass for her, too lost in bitter thoughts. "Try this," said the scruffy bartender after a few moments of concentrated preparation, placing the little shot glass in front of her. "The quick burn will distract you from whatever's bothering you."

"You make it sound like a workout," said Quinn, eyeing the glass warily. "The fate of my night is in your hands, Mr. Psychic Bartender. Cheers!" She raised the shot glass in his direction glumly before tipping the contents down her throat. "Whoa!" Her eyes squeezed shut as the glass collided with the makeshift bar counter; "Nice work Grubbster, that's a definite burn."

"Grubbster?" he laughed; "Well that didn't take much, did it? I hope your boyfriend shows up in time, shame to miss all this." He gestured expansively at their themed décor; "This place looks amazing. As a former band geek, I never thought I could enjoy being back in high school but tonight has been fun."

"Speak for yourself," Quinn groaned; "When Cheap Trick got up on stage I said everyone should have a totally tubular time on the freaking mic. What the hell does that even mean?"

Grubbs was raising his bushy eyebrows infuriatingly at her; "Can't help you with that one either I'm afraid," he shrugged. "Another shot maybe?"

"Why the hell not?" she sighed. "If I get drunk enough I won't have to go home in my own car with the word slut all over it in lipstick. Win-win, right?" But the bartender was staring over her shoulder now, the next shot glass poised in mid-air. "Dude, what are you staring…ahh!" Next second a pair of warm hands pressed over Quinn's eyes from behind and she scrambled to her feet, prepared to yell at whoever dared interrupt her moping. But the tirade died on her lips at the sight of Clay standing before her with his trademark crooked grin in place. "You made it," she said in a stunned whisper. "Oh my God, hi!"

"Did you really doubt I would?" he smirked. "Nathan literally bought a car off a lady we were trying to hitch a hike home with, lucky she was a Bobcats fan."

"That's insane," she said in a muffled voice, her face pressed against the smooth leather of his jacket. "Mmm, I was so afraid you wouldn't come in time."

"What, and miss all this?" Clay said incredulously, staring up at the glittering disco ball in the middle of the ceiling above their heads. "The place looks incredible, babe."

"And yet some unfortunate girl's locker will have a chunk of blonde hair stuck in the door come Monday," Quinn laughed, the events of the night suddenly seeming ridiculous now that she was back in Clay's arms.

"Say what?" The puzzled look on his face just cracked Quinn up harder and before long she was laughing too hard to breathe, let alone speak. "Q, are you drunk?"

"No," Quinn gasped, breathless from her outburst already. "Grubbs just got me to take one…just one shot because I thought you wouldn't come." Clay glared at the helplessly shrugging bartender, but Quinn was still talking. "And part of me wanted to get drunk enough that someone else would have to drive me home. Kylie very kindly wrote slut on my windshield…in lipstick! Can you believe that?"

She nestled against his chest, swaying in time to the music and Clay was too stunned to dwell on just how drunk she may or may not have been. "What the hell is Kylie doing here?" he wondered out loud.

"That one I can actually answer," the bartender chipped in, sounding almost proud of the fact. "The hot blonde, right? She's here with Mouth…had quite a showdown with your girl on the floor earlier."

"Oh man," Clay groaned, gently untangling Quinn's arms from around his neck and depositing her in a barstool. "Give Quinn something to eat, would you? I need to set Kylie straight…again."

From his vantage point near the bar, Clay scoured the sparsely occupied dancefloor. Haley was wrapped up in Nathan's arms, gazing lovingly into his eyes and the pair was clearly oblivious to the world around them. At the other end of the room, Alex stood near Brooke's new designer Alexander, the similarly named duo was ignoring each other even though it meant being wallflowers. The Australian man was staring contemplatively into his drink, so Clay decided the grudgingly sober actress was his best hope of locating Kylie. He crossed the dancefloor in purposeful strides, ignoring her grimace when he came to a halt in front of her. "It's about time you showed up," she sneered. "Quinn is so hammered over there, totally jealous."

"You would be, Miss I'll-Kiss-You-For-The-Taste-Of-Tequila," he retorted, in no mood for her games. "Listen, Dupré, have you seen Kylie? She's the reason Quinn needed that shot, she has a big piece of my mind coming. But seeing as I just got here I have no idea where to look."

"Ooh, so you're a tough guy now, huh?" Alex remarked dryly. "That Kylie chick has got to be your only lay that was more desperate than even me."

"Alex, please," he groaned, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her in frustration. "Have you seen her or not?"

"Well since you asked oh so nicely," she said at long last. "I hadn't actually seen Blondie until…right about now." The large door to the gymnasium had just creaked open and Kylie herself stepped into the room, clinging to the doorframe to keep from keeling over. "Damn, good luck getting anything useful out of that one. She looks like even more of a mess than Quinn. I'd save the protective boyfriend speech for when she'll actually remember it if I were you."

"You might have a point," he admitted reluctantly, watching with a disgusted expression as Mouth rushed over to catch his date before she collapsed in a drunken heap on the hard wooden floor. "Guess I'll get back to trying to sober Quinn up. She'll be so upset if she doesn't even remember the dance. Thanks anyway, Alex."

"You really love her, don't you?" said the brunette just as he turned to walk away, and for the first time, her tone wasn't mocking or sarcastic. Clay glanced at Nathan and Haley still swaying in unison on the dance floor and for the first time realized he didn't feel that usual pang of jealousy or feeling like a third wheel in their family.

"Yeah, I do," he said simply. "She's…everything."

"Guess I better find someone else to share tequila kisses with," she laughed. "That's the plan when I'm done explaining to pretty boy over there that you do not mess with Brooke and Julian, anyway." She rolled her eyes in Alexander's direction. "They finally left together after being convinced that Crocodile Dundee and I were a legit threat all night, idiots."

"Good for them, I guess," said Clay distractedly, glancing across the room at Quinn sitting on her barstool and staring up at the disco ball in wonder. "I should get back over there, see you around?"

"I'll be over here explaining the meaning of Brulian to this loser in all my sober glory," she said, looking disgusted at the prospect. "Seeya, Evans. Get your girl on the floor already!" Clay waved over his shoulder in acknowledgment, already half-way back across the room to Quinn. He had every intention of making every remaining moment of this night memorable for the girl he loved and wouldn't let Kylie or anyone else stop him.

A / N This was a one-shot idea I've had for years and now it's turning so long I decided to split it up into a two-shot. Enjoy everyone!