Based on the 2017 film "Permission" directed by Brian Crano starring Rebecca Hall and François Arnaud.

Anna and Dane meet five months after her breakup with Will.

I own nothing.

Anna looked up from her drink and let out a heavy sigh. "I didn't think I'd see you again."

"Liar." The man's accusation was full of forgiveness even as it came at her through a wicked little smirk that played upon his face.

Anna shook her head apologetically at him, her shame forcing her to look away from him as she disallowed his benevolence. The intimacy of his nearness, made manifest by his body as he slid it easily next to hers seated at the bar, was an intimacy that belied the distance between them; as if it had only been a matter of a few days, instead of the five months since they had last seen each other.

"No, I really didn't..." she said as she looked up at him again, bracing herself against her fear that her next words would sound as lame as they actually were. "I was so horrible to you that last time. I'm so sorry, Dane."

"Well," Dane responded through a heavy sigh of his own at her, "I'll accept your apology when I know what you're apologizing about, exactly." The smirk on his face had disappeared as his steely hazel gaze registered his challenge at her; he shifted to lean his back upon the bar and rested his elbows upon it, then waited intently for her explanation.

Anna suffered her awkwardness through a tortured and pregnant pause. "It wasn't just fucking. You and me," she blurted out her admission under a hard roll of her eyes at him and the weight of her truth rolled off of her in almost visible waves of both discomfort and relief.

Dane smiled broadly at her before he hung his head, then chuckled at her; the look upon his face was a slightly sheepish one when he returned his gaze at her. "Yeah...tell me something I don't know, Anna."

"No...no, Dane, there's nothing funny about this; I don't deserve that smile from you...this isn't what you think...at all."

"Oh? And what am I thinking, Anna?"

There was a hint of reproach in his voice then and it made Anna flinch. I deserve worse, she repeated the silent mantra at herself, struggling then with her resolve to stay and try to explain herself instead of bolting for the door.

"Okay, I really have no idea what you're thinking, but I owe you the truth. I owe you my story. I'm sure that after I tell it you'll think I'm the most horrible person on the planet...and want nothing more to do with me."

Dane braced himself. "I'm listening."

"Here?"

"Well...yeah...here...for starters."

They shared a look full of memories at each other, which they both found difficult to break away from.

"C'mon..." Dane put a gentle hand to Anna's elbow and nudged her off of her stool. Led by the warmth of that one small gesture, her mind wandered back to their first night together...and of another touch that he had once visited upon her...

Dane had been rough and more than a little vicious in the expression of his desire for her in their initial and subsequent lovemaking. Surprisingly so. Pleasurably so. Intoxicatingly so—and so, too, had been the hunger that he had unleashed from within herself for him.

"Anna?"

"Oh...huh?"

"Here..." he said softly after he'd escorted her to an available booth and motioned for her to sit.

A waitress came over for their drink order.

"Vodka shot—Purity, please..." from Dane.

"Uh...Purple Stag?" Anna smiled up at the waitress, then noticed surprised lift of Dane's eyebrow at her. "What? Yes, it's an acquired taste and I've acquired it," she explained.

"Hey, no judgments here..."

"Yeah, I saw that disgusted look on your face...and that eyebrow business was all about judgment, dude."

"Okay, you got me," Dane conceded as the waitress came back with their drinks and then scurried away. "I just never figured you to be into the 'Ol Jagermeister."

"Yeah, well, I drink the stuff straight at home, me and Hale."

They settled further into their opposing seats and then Anna quickly took the plunge, as if she was at the edge of a deep, blue, amazing yet terrifying ocean, tasked with the heady prospect of learning to swim for the very first time.

"So...I think you can figure out that my friend Will was more than just my friend."

"No, actually. I really didn't think twice about him."

"Oh, come on, Dane."

"I didn't. Really. I took you at your word. I figured he was just some dude in your friend zone, at most, I swear."

Dane's defense of himself rang true to her. Anna felt crushed—that even then, at that time when she had really felt that Reece's drunken suggestion had been totally ridiculous; when she thought that she had really loved Will and that her feelings for him were not at issue or up for challenge; when she had believed in the path that they'd been on together as right and unshakable—that the truest state of their relationship had been so unseated...and transparent enough for a stranger to see through completely.

"Anna?"

"I'm a terrible person, Dane...a truly terrible person. Will was my fiancé."

"Oh. Was?"

"Was."

"And so...am I the reason for that?"

"Actually...yes...and no. I mean...I mean—no. No. It was me. All me. Playing a part that I had absolutely no chops for."

Anna had expected a healthy dose of outrage—or some other sort—of negative response from him and, curiously, got none. She was so vexed that Dame found it comical, and his light laughter at her only served to infuriate her.

"Really? You think this is funny? Don't you, at least, have any questions?" Her irritation at him felt completely out of place but she'd found herself unable to mask it.

"I will...when you finish explaining," he said softly through a smile that both comforted her and made her feel guiltier.

Anna explained, then, the strange turn their dinner date with Hale and Reece had taken, those long months prior; how the walls of her life, as she had known them, came tumbling down around her. She told him about the disastrous fuck at the museum, of the Neanderthal she had debased herself with to have it, and the fallout to her psyche that it had caused; about the hot older woman Will had opened himself up to, fucked, and the fallout it had caused to his psyche; about the damage control that the both of them had found themselves unable to fully exact. Finally, she told him about the night she went and broke Will's heart completely, and how wonderfully relieved she felt after she had done it.

"Have you seen him since?"

"Only to officially move out. Him—he moved out and into the house, I'm staying in our—my—apartment."

"Are you really okay with that? I mean, with so many memories attached?"

"Well, it's purely about real estate, at this point, and finances. Sure, I'd like to make a completely fresh start, but I can't afford anywhere else right now. Hell, not for the foreseeable future; I had to get a roommate just to stay in the place at all..."

"How's that working out?"

"Okay, I guess. Well, not 'I guess', actually, my brother Hale moved in to help me out."

"What happened to his boyfriend? His boyfriend was Reece, you said?"

"He left him...Hale, left him; he wanted—wants—a baby. Reece didn't."

"Oh. Wow, yeah, that can be tough. I'm sorry."

"No, thanks, but it's okay. So, it's small and we're cramped in, but we love each other, so it's working out. He's happy, actually, and it's just a temporary thing, anyway. I've got to get my act together; finish my thesis; get a real job.

"Will was the one with the money and he can afford the house. Or sell it, if he wants, and move on. I shouldn't have broken it off with him, right there on the damn front steps, with a bow practically tied around the place and the ring on my damn finger. It was cruel of me..." Anna's remorse was as real as the disgust in her voice.

"Yeah, I get that about you, lady, you've got a real mean streak going on in there..." Dane reached across the table and caressed the top of her breast, peeking out just so through the simple scoop-necked T-shirt underneath her unzipped leather jacket. "Or have you forgotten our last meeting?"

Anna had to allow his sweet, yet scathing insight into her, but was unable to do the same with his hand, which she removed from upon her and pushed firmly back into the territory of his side of the table.

"No. No, I haven't. I haven't forgotten anything about you, at all, actually. That's not even possible."

"I haven't forgotten you, either, Anna."

"But...shouldn't you, Dane?" she asked him sincerely.

"Look, Anna, I'm certainly no relationship guru, but...you guys, for all intents and purposes, were married, already, don't you think? You'd been together a long time...people grow up...grow apart, huh? Better to come to the truth before babies, and shared mortgages and lawyers and judges all in your shit, huh?"

"Yeah, well, I'm not the one who grew up. I mean, I'm amazed at just how fantastically I've dropped the ball at being a grown up."

"Yeah, well, sounds like he grew up, as well. I think you're being kinda hard on yourself. What you did took courage. Facing the truth about yourself—hey—I bow down." Dane did just that from his seat across the table.

"Stop it. I'm not proud of myself. I hurt some people on this 'courageous' journey. Including you. I'm really sorry. That's all Ive been coming here and hanging out to do...catch you. Apologize. Wait for you to tell me to fuck off and die. That sort of thing." Anna's eyes at Dane then were resolute.

"Again, Anna, I think you're way too hard on yourself. I knew, deep down, that I meant something to you. Now I know that I was a bit of an escape for you, but that's okay, too."

"Really?" Anna was non-plussed.

"Well, sure. Because if anything happens between us now, that's something that I know I'm not, anymore." The smile on his face at her then was an invitation for her confirmation that a future of some sort loomed between them.

"Now? Really? There's a 'now' in all of this?"

"I think so, don't you?"

"But you're a musician, along with everything else," she countered, as if those points were as clear to him as they were to herself.

"Wow. Ouch. If that means what I think it means. What do you mean, exactly? I mean, there's a lot to unpack, there..."

"No, I mean, you know...I'm reprehensible and—"

"Cut that out," he said as he shot a warning glance at her.

"Okay, well, you're a young, charming, handsome guy; an artist—"

"A struggling artist," he corrected her, "and you're a musician, too; I'm gonna have to be all worried about your groupies hanging out at your concerts, too, you know."

"In my dreams," Anna scoffed at herself.

A loud guffaw from Dane then, unchecked and raw. "Damn, woman! You ball-buster! God—are those mine rolling out the door over there?" he said as he looked over at the door through squinted eyes.

"Stop it," she chided him, "that is totally, not now or ever, going to be a part of my existence, and you know it—but it is, currently, yours—women must throw themselves at you all the time. I'm not afraid to let my insecurity show, I'm just sayin'."

"I'll be honest—" Dane began through an embarrassed little shake of his head, "—there's been a fair amount of misguided activity that's happened in that respect, yes. But I really felt something different with you, Anna...feel something...that's real; something much better and more substantial, that I think we should explore. And I have to admit, sitting next to you on a piano bench is the most addictive thing I've ever wanted to give myself completely over to. But I'm warning you—I'm not trying to go out in the Friend Zone, okay? Really, I'm not."

"But—"

"Yes, 'but'...there are no guarantees on either side of this and I think we both understand that, right? But that's not a crime, is it? I love all the magic that can happen when you really get to know someone; not just the romance, but the real intimate stuff; like, knowing what it means when you sigh a certain way; the million little things that matter, you know, like how cool you can be driving in terrible conditions but understanding that one thing that triggers your road rage and being able to not freak out about it...stuff like that," Dane smiled impishly at her.

Anna raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? You want an inside track to my deepest, darkest 5150 moments? Is that it?"

"Hey, we all have them," he joked her.

"You're scaring me now, Dane."

"Good," he smiled broadly at her. "But I'm harmless. And so are you. I'm pretty sure we can take each other. As a matter of fact, you've already proven that to me."

"I didn't come here to start back up with you..."

"Sure you did." Dane only received Anna's blank stare "And I accept your apology."

"I'm fucked-up, Dane. And I have a lot of personal issues to work out. I really do need to get my shit together."

"Who doesn't? You can't have a Non-Friend Zone friend while you work on that?"

"That's really a thing with you, huh?"

"I'm not afraid to let my insecurities show," he smiled at her. "Besides," his smile faded then, "I've been there more times than I care to remember. It's not fun." Dane picked up his neglected drink, gulped the shot down and set the empty glass upon the table hard, serving as a sure punctuation to his last words, which was not lost on Anna.

Anna was shaken by the sudden change in him, engulfed as he was then in an unpleasant memory; she was not pleased at the prospect of becoming more of one for him, herself. "Do you think that you can trust me, Dane?" she asked him cautiously.

"Wow...that's a really honest question..." Dane said as he snapped back to their present. "I guess I can't really answer that yet. I'm gonna need time, I think."

"Time for what?"

"To see how much you think that you can trust yourself. Then I'll be able to answer you, fair enough?"

"Fair? Mind blown, dude. I think I need another drink on that one..."

Several drinks later they found themselves at a crossroads about three blocks away from the bar.

"So...we're doing this."

"Doing what? Walking? Home to my place? Yes. We're doing this."

"Come on, Dane, you know what I mean."

Dane stopped her in the middle of the busy sidewalk. "Anna, I'm not going to try to put a ring on your finger...or buy you a house...or confine you—or try to define you in any way; and I don't want you to do any of those things to me, okay? I don't ever want you to do anything that you don't want to do." There was an unspoken question in his sober declaration.

"Okay...yes...there was a turning point for me on our first night when I went full steam ahead, knowing exactly what I was doing for a moment in time..." Anna said then, sounding as if she was trying to convince herself of that fact, more so than Dane.

"More than a moment," Dane corrected her.

"Okay, more than a moment; but this 'Non-Friend Zone' stuff—'Apply Pressure Here', much, Dane? You've experienced my track record with that."

"And yet, here we are. I could only hope that I would see you again, Anna; and I stayed away from the bar, purposely, because I knew you needed time—hell, I needed time, too. So, forget the Friend Zone, shit, I'd just like to have you in my life again. Any way that you feel comfortable being in it."

Anna knew that Dane was caving-in to his deepest fear but was unable to tell him out loud that wasn't what she was asking of him; his admission had come at her in his even, calm tone, but through tight lips and a clenched jaw—why had her own tongue become a dead, frozen lump in her mouth?

They stood on the sidewalk and faced each other down; each long second for Anna was an excruciating exercise in indecision against the backdrop of Dane's otherworldly display of complete composure.

"You want me to get a cab for you, then?"

Though there had been no anger—or expectation—in Dane's voice, Anna heard, clearly, his ultimatum. She felt that same stab of desire that she'd felt when she had initially tossed his phone number into the trash can that night, long ago...and then hauled ass back to the can to retrieve it, berating herself at daring to even contemplate not using it to stay in touch with such a magnificent creature as himself.

"No. I said that much too quickly, didn't I?"

Dane said nothing as he smiled and wrapped his arm about her, then guided her back on their journey to his apartment.

This isn't going to end well...I'm gonna fuck it all up to hell... Anna worried silently to herself, unable to shake their unwelcome, invisible chaperone, otherwise known as her own niggling ambivalence.

Before Anna knew anything they were there, cuddled up on his bed with her wrapped in the familiar neon glow of his warm embrace; and being there as she was again, she easily got out of her own head and got down to the business of attending to his.

Dane and Anna's reunion had been nothing less than an erotic prize fight, with each combatant determined to inflict the most pleasure possible upon the other as far as stamina dared to allow; several rounds later, the sublime battlefield that had been Dane's bed became slowly awash in the creeping rays of morning light; as the Moon yielded her time in the sky over to the Sun they lay on their backs, sweaty and spent, yet in silent agreement that the moment was one for brief respite only; as they continued to struggle at catching their breath Anna stared worriedly up at the ceiling while Dane peered intently at her.

"I'm gonna fuck this all up to hell, Dane," Anna admitted her fear to him in a whisper, refusing to yield to his own confident gaze upon her.

Dane turned away from her after a time and gave a hard roll of his eyes up to where Anna's were fixated. "Maybe."

His contemplative, yet practical answer caused Anna to shoot him a mortified look, which Dane duly ignored as a smile broke across his face; he took her hand into his own and kissed the palm of it tenderly, then rested it back at her side. Dane felt Anna's eyes leave him and he continued to stare up at the ceiling, which he realized had become the cosmos, at that moment, containing all of Anna's self-doubts and fears—but none of his own—and knew that he was more than ready to journey through it with her.