Crazy For You

Clay was half-way across the dancefloor back to the bar, his gaze locked on Quinn's slightly dazed smile when the Journey ballad blasting from the sound system faded out. The next song began with the achingly familiar strum of an acoustic guitar and Clay froze. He found himself rooted to the spot by Willie Nelson's voice and memories of the last time this song, with its lifetime's worth of associations had been sprung on him, on one of the hardest days of his life.

July 2011 – Two Years Earlier

Inside the church, Clay had last entered on his wedding day, the heat was stifling on that devastating July day. He sat between his mother and sister in the front row of the pews, closest to the raised platform the minister was now stepping down from. Then Sam took his place behind the podium, looking much older than his sixty-three years. Clay couldn't blame the man; this was the second time in just three years his in-laws would have to bury one of their children. Sam's haunted blue eyes found his wife's face in the crowd as he began to bravely deliver the eulogy and Clay turned to watch his mother-in-law instead, hardly able to bear the heartbreaking speech. Lil had eight-month-old Logan sleeping miraculously peacefully in her arms. Somehow the infant wasn't bothered by how his grandmother's wrinkled hands were visibly trembling as she clung to him with silent tears rolling down her face.

Lily's hand squeezing his arm unnecessarily hard forced Clay's attention back to the gut-wrenching eulogy. Sam was staring right at him now, sounding more emotionally spent with every word coming out of his mouth. "As unbearable as it is," he was saying; "this isn't the first time my wife and I have attended the funeral of one of our children. Cancer stopped our Izzie's heart just three years ago, and Sara took it probably harder than anyone. I think I'm speaking for my wife and myself today when I say that believing our girls are together again is the only way we'll survive this. Well, that and her beautiful baby boy over there." Sam's tired eyes fell on the baby clinging to Lil's finger in his sleep, and he seemed to draw strength from the sight as he went on; "Izzie never had the chance to start a family, but we are now so thankful that Sara found a love so strong as young as she did. Our little girl deserved so much more out of life but left us with a precious grandson…and a new son. For that, we will always be grateful. I leave you now with her favorite song. As Willie Nelson says, it turns out Sara really was our angel flying too close to the ground." Sam paused and drew in a deep breath, shaking more visibly now as he delivered his final words; "Rest in peace, princess." Then he turned to the small music system beside the podium and hit play, before finally moving back to his seat beside Lil to a smattering of sympathetic applause.

Applauding politely with a painful lump in her own throat, Lily heard a sharp intake of breath from beside her. The way her mother hissed her name was unnecessary, for Clay's low moan was all it took to wrench her attention back to him. "No…oh God, please no." Lily turned her head so fast she felt a muscle in her neck pull uncomfortably, but the look on her brother's face made the twinge easy to ignore. From the row behind them, Sara's best friend Jessica leaned forward and attempted to squeeze Clay's shoulders consolingly, but he doubled over before she could reach him, ghostly pale and barely breathing.

Lily grimaced over her shoulder at the British girl's distraught expression before devoting her full attention to Clay. "Hey ducky, don't forget to breathe," she urged under her breath. Her hand rubbed circles between his tense shoulder blades while she watched his shuddering fists clenching and unclenching in his lap. "Remember how Dad used to help me through the panic attacks I had as a kid after the dog next door bit me once?" Clay gave no sign that he had heard her; instead, his breathing seemed to come in increasingly shallow and rapid gasps. As her brother teetered on the edge of a complete meltdown, Lily kept talking as soothingly as she could manage with the devastated atmosphere in the room rubbing off on her. "On the count of two, remember?" she coached gently. "Come on, sweetie, in and out. You can do this."

"But it's our thing now," Clay hissed through gritted teeth, turning to face her with despair so deep in his dark blue eyes she couldn't possibly find the words for it. "Mine and hers. And she left me alone…so you're wrong. I actually can't do this, Flo!" With that he wrenched the hand she'd been gently squeezing from her grasp and stumbled towards the entrance of the church, oblivious to the mix of curious and sympathetic stares turning to watch him run out the door.

"Shit," Clay moaned, as every word of the mournful ballad took him back to the day he had lost the one who meant the most to him in the entire world at the time. He was vaguely aware of the slightly confused look on Quinn's face as she watched him from her gently swiveling barstool. But even the girl he owed everything to was impossible to focus on over the sound of Willie Nelson's voice, tearing his heart out with every word he sang. "Leave me if you need to, I will still remember…angel flying too close to the ground." By the time Clay forced his feet to get moving and run as far away from the music as he could, Quinn was shakily standing up and attempting to move towards him. The last thing Clay saw before he fled the decorated gym was Haley rushing towards her tottering sister; then he was tearing down the deserted hallways towards the exit and much needed fresh air.

Out in the school parking lot, Brooke Davis was watching Julian's car pull away with her lips still tingling from the kiss she had given him for luck or courage or whatever the hell that really was. He was right, being just friends was going to be ridiculously hard, but she had brought it on herself with her insecurities over Alex. It was with difficulty that she reminded herself she'd partly denied a ride home with him so that she could help Haley clear up the party. Smiling dreamily in spite of herself, Brooke turned back towards the school building and collided so hard with someone she was nearly knocked off her feet.

"Ouch," she gasped, grabbing the man's hand to keep her balance in the insane eighties-style heels she was wearing. "Sorry, I…Clay?"

A flash of recognition penetrated the tormented look in his eyes and still holding his hand, Brooke felt it shaking when he finally spoke. "Oh God, sorry Brooke, I didn't see you there."

"That's not surprising. Where were you going in such a hurry? The party's that way, you know. Don't tell me you're leaving so soon after all the drama you and Nathan went through to get here. Haley told me the whole story, very impressive." She motioned at the building behind him as she spoke and Clay nodded stiffly, something about his expression was still unreadable. "Hey, are you okay?" she pressed hesitantly.

"Being stupid," he muttered, and she could tell he was trying to look nonchalant, but his eyes told a different story. "The song playing in there threw me for a loop, that's all." The disbelieving look on Brooke's face and her quirked eyebrows made it clear she wasn't going to let him off that easy. But suddenly Clay found he didn't mind her subtle willingness to listen; it was exactly what Quinn would have done if she could currently have moved from that damn barstool. "Quinn got pretty drunk by the time Nate and I got here," he explained, to avoid bringing up the song that had chased him outdoors just yet. "She thought I wouldn't show up and now she's totally hammered, silly girl."

"She was kind of down in the dumps all night," Brooke agreed. "But that doesn't explain what you're doing out here right now. You got something to share with the class, hmm? I know you find it easier to talk to Quinn but I'm pretty sober if you need an ear or something."

"Alex said you left with Julian," Clay pointed out, not missing Brooke's instant frown at the mention of the actress. "I know you have issues with her, but in there she was the only person I could find who could tell me where to find Kylie…long story."

"Mouth's date Kylie?" Brooke asked incredulously, shaking her head when he nodded. "What's your deal with her then?"

"Nothing," said Clay firmly. "Before Quinn came along, I used to sleep with her sometimes, and now she can't wrap her head around not being needed anymore, that's all. I was only looking for her because Grubbs said she was being a bitch to Quinn before I got here. But that really wasn't the point."

"Uh huh," Brooke smirked at him, enjoying his discomfort at the confession far too much. "What was the point, pray tell?"

"The point is that Quinn is now drunk and the reason I'm not with her right now is that the song played at my wife's funeral came on in there," he said in a rush, as if saying it fast would make the emotions stirred by the song feel less painfully intense. "And I just…really needed to get away from that song. Quinn would have understood, but she can't even walk in a straight line right now, and I got embarrassed. So now here I am, losing my cool away from the party, I guess."

The teasing glint in Brooke's eyes faded at his glum tone. "I'm really sorry, Clay, that's horrible." He stiffened for a moment when she drew closer and gave him a hug, finally returning the embrace gingerly. "I'm sure the song's over by now. Do you wanna go back inside together? I really wanted to take off with Julian but leaving Haley to clear up the mess wouldn't have been very fair. To us party planners, the night's still young, you know. Maybe Quinn will have sobered up enough for a last dance by now, if you're lucky."

"I did tell Grubbs to feed her something," Clay admitted. "Are you psychic?"

"No, that would be our buddy Grubbs' job," Brooke laughed; "I just consider myself a good judge of character most of the time. It's obvious you love her, Kylie's just gonna have to get used to that and deal with it."

"Fair enough." Clay offered her his arm as they walked back along the deserted halls to the gym. "Sorry again for practically bulldozing you out there. Thanks for listening. This night almost ended in complete disaster over a damn song, ridiculous."

"Don't mention it," she shrugged. "My night was spent fretting over Alex and Julian, if there's a chance Quinn can still get a dance out of you I definitely want to watch." When he held the heavy gym door open for her, Brooke glided past him finally feeling like her night hadn't been a complete waste after all. "Have fun," she offered as a suggestive parting shot, eyeing Quinn who was standing near the bar with Haley now.

"Thanks, Brooke," he said absently, staring across the room as if Quinn was a magnet to his steely blue eyes. Chatting with her sister one minute, Quinn raised a hand to cut Haley off mid-sentence the next and positively lit up when she saw him. There might as well have been spotlights on the pair of them as she bounded across the dancefloor; suddenly miraculously steady on her feet. "Looks like somebody is feeling better," he said affectionately, and she nodded sheepishly.

"Sorry about that," she said, gesturing over her shoulder at the bar. Clay caught Grubbs grinning at the two of them and smiled back in thanks before turning his attention back to Quinn. "I really thought you wouldn't make it in time. I should never have doubted you. But then you ran, and I got worried again. I thought you bailed, after all, the whole thing is a bit fuzzy."

"Tequila shots tend to have that effect, babe," Clay pointed out, but he suddenly found it a lot harder to smile. "Quinn, I'm so sorry I ran. You deserve better than a knucklehead who can't handle a little Willie Nelson." He paused when her expression practically reflected a confused fog lifting; "Okay, what does that face mean?"

"You ran because of the song? That's all?"

"That's all," Clay echoed. "Isn't that bad enough? It's pathetic!"

Quinn's finger pressed to his lips before he could say another word. "You talk a lot," she giggled, angling her head against his chest, oblivious to his confusion. "That is actually amazing. You know why?"

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me." Clay stroked her carefully crimped curls gently, the relief that she didn't seem angry just making him love her even more. "I think you might still be a little loopy, sweetie."

"I'm not loopy," Quinn argued, frowning up at him in unconvincing annoyance. "Anyway, I'll tell you why it's amazing that it was just the song that bothered you."

"You do that," he prompted, vaguely aware that there was now a Madonna ballad playing over the sound system.

"It means you're not Dan Thomson," said Quinn softly. "Because you're here no matter what and you didn't run or dump me at the last minute. And it just…it means a lot to me, okay?"

"God, I wish I could punch that doucheface," Clay muttered. "And maybe Taylor too, no offense."

"None taken," said Quinn, quickly wiping away the single tear running down her cheek. "I'm definitely too soft sometimes."

"Quinn, I won't leave you, alright?" he promised. He glanced up at the disco ball still glittering above their heads. "After this, you might be the one deciding to dump me, fair warning."

"Huh? What do you mean?" Quinn frowned but then he held out a hand, and her eyes sparkled with delighted comprehension.

"Dance with me, Quinn James?"

Nodding with the biggest smile on her face, she took Clay's hand and let him lead her out into the middle of the dancefloor. Nathan and Haley were involved in their own slow dance once more, but Quinn could sense Alex and Brooke's eyes on her when she placed her hands on Clay's shoulders. "Thank you," she whispered, pressing closer to kiss his lips. She couldn't help smiling into the kiss when she felt his palms shaking as they slid around her waist. "Well well, it looks like butterflies are infectious, huh?"

"Totally," he laughed awkwardly and gestured at the speakers. "Madonna's hitting the nail on the head, go figure."

"If you read my mind, you'll see I'm crazy for you," she whispered the lyrics and smiled up at him. "She really is, you did put insanely in love in Nathan's contract. No mind reading required, is there?"

"Nope," Clay agreed, looking nervously down at his feet. "Now shush, I literally can't talk and dance at the same time if you want to walk away from this with your toes intact."

"Fond as I am of my toes," said Quinn mock-seriously; "I like you a hell of a lot better. We're in the same boat here, relax."

"That is true. You totally saved my job with your epic cheerleading skills," he smirked. "Hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Even super agents need a little help sometimes," she smiled. "If tonight is the thanks I get, I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"Try tonight and tomorrow and the day after that," he corrected her. "I'm a little addicted to you, Quinn James."

"I can live with that," she said seriously and then felt a swooping sensation in her belly when he dipped her without warning. "Whoa, that was very…," she began, falling swiftly silent when his lips pressed against hers. The fluttering in her stomach intensified so much; it was as if the kiss had transferred all his butterflies to her. "Smooth," she gasped, straightening up slowly. "Babe, nervous does not kiss like that, holy shit!"

"Like what?" he said innocently. "Nervous people don't kiss like that, but the insanely in love ones do. You think I made this night special just by being here, but…you saved me, Quinn. You deserve for every day to make you feel special."

"Something tells me that'll happen as long as you're around."

"You bet," he winked and dragged her closer once more. "You wanna take this party back to my place?"

"Not yet," she said softly, both arms around his neck as she resisted the urge to kiss every inch of his face. Cursing the bright red lipstick of eighties fashion, she added simply; "I kind of don't want tonight to end. Unless you're tired or something?"

Clay shook his head, smiling at how sentimental she was without even trying. "For you, I could do this forever. Just keep smiling like that, and you'll literally be my drug by the end of the night."

"Dude, you're totally smooth," she laughed and hugged him tightly. Neither of them had come out and literally said that they loved each other yet, but at that moment she couldn't have felt it more strongly. In the months since he'd opened his front door and his heart to her, it was presumptuous to say that forever existed for them, but she prayed with all her heart that it did.

A/N Writing this half made me wish for more Brooke/Clay friendship, shattered my Clara heart and sent the Clinn fluff into overdrive all in one. Enjoy all! xx