He was playing a dangerous game, Sam Malone was, and he knew it. He knew it, and after all that had just happened between him and Diane, he didn't care. Or at least that's what he told himself.

The first drink was the hardest. After all, it wasn't that long ago that Diane had demonstrated such great concern for him when she thought he was going to start drinking again that kinda made him start to really feel something for her. More importantly, it was at about that time that he was starting to think he'd underestimated Diane Chambers. Hell yeah, she had a smokin' bod, but to his dismay she hid it well, mostly by the dresses, but really by the tone in her voice. She was snobby, too smart for her own good, a pain in his...and once upon a time, she had been his.

Yes, he knew the fault for the breakup was his. Sam had tried to use his own selfish reasoning to blame it all on Diane. If only she hadn't gone behind his back, hadn't lied to him, hadn't went along with that damn artist guy...who was he kidding. They were never meant to be, so maybe it was just better this way that they parted now before he really let himself go for her.

It wasn't that she didn't love him- even Sam knew in his heart that she did. And in his heart he knew he would never find a woman who would irritate, challenge, infuriate him the way she did- and no other woman would love him the way Diane had as well.

Staring at the empty mug in his hand, all alone at the bar, he knew he was in no shape to drive. Hell, even Norm had stopped drinking a good hour and a half before Sam had, and that was no small feat. Oh, how the gang had protested, tried to stop him, but in the end, they let him do what he did best- which was to self-destruct.

Of course, Sam hadn't the insight to realize what he was doing, what his patterns were, why he behaved the way he did. No, Sam, like many other good looking men his age, only acted out of instinct, pure and simple. He was a man's man, a buddy to his pals, a boss to his buddies, and now on this dark Boston night, he was all alone.

So after stumbling around, locking up behind him (he was pretty sure he had locked up, he couldn't have been too sure in the state of mind he was in) he walked to the curb, hoping to catch a cab. On Friday nights they were pretty hard to come by, so he was quite sure the long walk home would do him some good.

"Hey! Watch out, Mister!"

Sam looked up and realized that he'd almost stumbled into a cab. Damn, he thought. There was no way that guy would give him a ride home now.

"Well...ain't ya gonna get in?" the driver demanded.

Sam looked around, puzzled, then realized the driver was talking to him. So he got in the back seat, grateful for the opportunity to rest his feet, and even better, free his mind from that woman...

"Thanks. This is something, hey?" Sam chuckled. "I needed a ride, you were here..."

"Imagine that. A drunk coming out of a bar in search of a ride, and I, just a simple driver, knew that such a drunk could be found at a bar."

Sam looked around, not knowing whether to run or to laugh. "Hey, I'm sorry. It's just been a hell of a night, you know?"

"Ah, it's all right. My privilege picking up the famous Mayday Malone!" the driver replied as he took off, barely waiting for Sam to buckle up.

"You..you know me?"

"I wouldn't have, but that dame pointed you out to me..."

"Wait a minute...this dame...she wouldn't have happened to have blonde hair and a scrawny little chicken neck, would she have?"

"I don't know. She wasn't that bad to me."

"Now wait a minute. I want out. Let me out."

"Here? You're gonna kill yourself trying to cross the intersection."

"I mean it. I want out. How much did she pay you? I'll give you double.." Sam pulled out his wallet, and then prayed that Diane had only paid the driver $2.50.

"Look, Mayday...feel free to tell me to mind my own business..."

Sam didn't hesitate. "Mind your own business."

The driver chuckled. "Anyways, it seems to me that little lady is kinda crazy about you."

"Kinda crazy, more like it."

"She can't be that bad, can she? After all she did take the time to call you a cab..."

"That don't mean nothing," Sam retorted. "I call a cab for all of my drunks."

"Seems to me she didn't have to do even that. I don't know what's going on with you two but to me, it looks like you got yourself a little lady who was willing to give her last dollar to help you out."

Damn. That was probably more than the five he was carrying, so Sam sank back into his seat.

"Do you love her?"

"Ha!"

"Do you hate her?" the driver persisted.

"You bet I do..."

"I know I'm not a smart man, but I know what a woman in love looks like when I see it. A woman in love doesn't fall in love that easily. And even more, she doesn't fall out of love just like that."

Sam said nothing, trying to figure out what this driver wanted from him.

"Look, now, looks like you made it safe and sound."

Before Sam exited the cab, he pulled out that five and handed it to him. To his surprise, the driver refused to take it. "You really want to do something nice? Try being nice to yourself. You never know what you might find..."

Sam wasn't quite sure what that meant, but he had never been so happy to see his bed in his life.

The phone rang. He knew who it was, but he couldn't bring himself to answer it. Not yet anyways.

He turned around, hoping to block the sound and catch some sleep, but then something even worse than that noise occurred- the room grew awfully silent.

As he started to finally drift off to sleep, thanks to the alcohol, there was one thing that troubled him even more than knowing she had dared to call him...she stopped. Why that bothered him so, he didn't know. But there was always tomorrow.

Instinctively he wrapped his arm around the pillow, of which had been left on her spot of his bed by Diane just hours earlier.

He'd never felt so alone in his life.

TBC