Disclaimer- I own nothing.

A/N- I was really determined to get this chapter up tonight, so if there are tons of typos or it just sounds plain awful...well, I blame that. I forgot to say in the first chapter that this was an AU, but I'm sure you figured that out on your own. Um.. sorry if I offend any Jack fans, heh.

Pame, I love ya, girl! None of this would be possible without you! Everyone, Pame is the greatest person in the world. Without her, there would be no me.

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"Shannon, do I have to go?" Claire asked for about the hundreth time, sitting on her bed and watching her friend riffle through all the clothes in Claire's closet.

"Yes," Shannon said shortly, and judging by her tone of voice she wasn't in the mood to be argued with. "Now, what do you say about this one?" she said, walking out of Claire's closet and holding up a slinky black number. Claire wrinkled her nose, thinking that if she refused every outfit Shannon threw at her, she wouldn't have to go. But she knew that it was a feeble plan that would never work; this was Shannon after all.

"Claire," Shannon said exasperately, the smile on her face falling.

"Shannon, why can't you just get someone else from the office to go? Why is it always me?" Claire said, falling back onto her bed and covering her face with her pillow.

"Because I'm not asking you to go with me as my secretary. I'm asking you to go as my friend," Shannon said in a strangely hurt voice.

Claire groaned and sat up. "Well, I'm not wearing that dress, it hasn't fit right ever since I had Aaron."

"Look, you can say that you won't wear every dress that's in your closet, because you are going tonight, no matter what you wear. You can go naked for all I care,"

And like that, Claire knew she was beat.

The bass heavy music thudded in Claire's ears and made the wall behind her shudder. She hated this, all of it. She hated the tight, satin blue dress that Shannon had finally picked for her to wear. She hated this loud, erratic rave music, every drum beat and guitar riff of it. She hated all of the people on the dance floor, the girls dancing like cats in heat and the men responding accordingly. She hated the repulsive mixture of sweat and expensive perfume that permeated the sultry room. She hated the way that all the girls looked at her and sized her up, criticizing her without even speaking, and the way the men eyed her, making her feel more vulnerable and self-conscious than ever in this short dress. She hated the way she felt like an outcast, standing on the fringes of the room, nursing a simple rum and Coke, never joining in with the throng of dancers. She hated that she was wasting her evening here, when she could be home with Aaron. She hated how these things were called business parties, a bunch of colleagues and competitors in the field to get together, when they really were just a chance for all the models and designers to grind against one another, hoping to get some ass that night. The whole concept of these dances just seemed sleazy and cheap to Claire.

Shannon suddenly disentangled herself from the mass of people, her face flushed and smiling. Although it was good to see her friend temporarily happy again, Claire couldn't help but be a bit disgusted by her friend, who she had seen dancing erotically with several men that night. It wasn't that Claire was a prude, she was just as sensual as all the other women there -- well, most of them, -- it was just that Claire couldn't help but see those girls as desperate sluts with low self-esteem, and she was embarrassed and saddened by the fact that her friend was one of them.

"Come on, Claire! Have you danced at all tonight? Even broken a sweat? You're supposed to have fun at these things!" Shannon asked her, taking Claire's drink out of her hand and taking a large gulp of it.

Claire shook her head, feeling a bit annoyed with this whole situation. She had told Shannon that she didn't want to come, and Shannon knew how much Claire hated these things; how did Shannon think that Claire was going to act tonight? To get drunk, dance with a complete stranger and go home with him, all the while knowing that she had a child waiting at home for her? Did Shannon have no compassion?

"How much longer do you think we will be here?" Claire asked miserably. Even she hated the whiny sound of her voice.

"Claire, it's hardly midnight! The party has just begun!" Shannon said, finishing off Claire's drink and handing it back to her, then disappearing into the crowd of people again.

Sighing, Claire returned the empty glass to the bar, then retreated back to her spot on the wall, wishing that she could just melt into it, anything to get away from here. She watched the minutes on the clock tick slowly by, each minute seeming to be longer than the one before, so that Claire was certain the clock must be broken.

"So you feel awkward at these things too?"

Claire turned to see a man standing to her left. She wondered how long he had been there, as she hadn't noticed him until now.

"Excuse me?" she said, not really registering his question, as she had been so lost in her thoughts.

"These 'business parties.' I thought that I was the only one who detested them," he answered her, coming closer.

She felt herself stiffen slightly as he leaned on the wall next to her. Although it was sort of nice not to be the only wallflower here, her prejudice towards men always made her uncomfortable when a male stranger initiated a conversation with her.

"Yeah, they're not really my forte," Claire responded with a small smile, but not looking him in the eye, trying to be friendly, but not insinuating that she in any way wanted this conversation to progress.

"But I've never seen you at one before, and I think that I would remember you," the stranger continued.

Okay, now he had crossed the line from friendly into flirting -- that was an obvious line. Time to get rid of him.

"Well, I try to avoid them, obviously," Claire responded, trying to sound cold. But judging by his unabashed face, it hadn't worked. Time to use a different tactic with him. She turned her face and looked up into his eyes, and suddenly felt burned and frozen at the same time. She chose to ignore this. "So I assume that you're gay?" she said, fixing him with a challenging look.

His eyes bulged in surprise and then he tried to swallow his laughter, "No, definitely not gay," he said, his voice quivering slightly with his suppressed laugh. He cocked an eyebrow at her, "Why do you ask?"

She looked away, not wanting to let her own laugh escape where it was lodged in her throat. Despite being disappointed that her comment hadn't scared him off like she'd hoped, she couldn't help but be amused with his dramatic response. After getting some control over her compulsion to laugh, she turned to him once again, "This is a party for models or designers. If you are here and you are a male, you are either gay or a lecher."

"Wow, that's a little rash and biased of you," the stranger said. Claire blushed, and looked away. He was right, of course, and she was embarrassed of herself. "So, in the same vein, I assume that you are an easy whore, only worse, seeing as I don't even have to pay you." Claire's face was beat red, and she wished that the floor would swallow her whole right about now. She never realized how ignorant and belligerent her bias was until this unwelcome stranger put it in such a sobering way. Suddenly she felt calloused and insensitive. This guy definitely needed to get lost, and soon.

"I'm teasing, love," he said with a small laugh, seeing her furious blush. She lifted her gaze from her feet to his eyes once again and saw that they were dancing and laughing. In the oddest way, she felt soothed by those eyes, that had seemed so harsh and critical only moments before. She had never seen such expressive eyes before, and they seemed to change color every time she looked at him. They had seemed a soft blue at the start of their conversation, warm and inviting, but with a hidden promise behind them; then they had turned a dark blue, almost onyx black as he chastised her for her prejudice; and now they were a steely grey. Claire couldn't help but be more than a little mesmerized by his eyes.

Her blush faded and she smiled softly, in spite of herself.

"What do you say we get out of here?" the stranger proposed. Claire felt her stomach lurch with panic. Although he had just shown her just how much of a bigot she was, Claire still wasn't comfortable leaving with him. She didn't know where they were going, how she would get home, she didn't even know his name. He could be a drug addict for all she knew. Yet, he enticed her, and she found herself wanting to go with him. This in itself scared Claire. She had been sworn off of men for so long, the very idea of following this one out the door was enough to make Claire run the other way. But the idea of getting out of here also appealed greatly to Claire. It was so hot and sweaty in the room and she was development a pounding headache from this repetitive music, that the idea of being cold outdoors where there would be some sort of calm was tantalizing.

"Don't worry, I won't rape you in the alley or anything," he said with a smile, a hint of what almost sounded like pleading in his voice. Claire realized that he really wanted her to go with him, to spend time with her. She wasn't used to this either. One quick scan of the crowd revealed Shannon dancing with some guy Claire had never seen before. This confirmed her dicision.

"Okay, let's go."

"Great," he said, giving her a smile that warmed her entire body. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her out of the door, into the lobby, so they could reclaim their coats. Claire slipped into her black pea coat as they walked out of the doors into the very welcome brisk air that buffered their warm cheeks.

"So, where to?" Claire asked with a laugh. She was finding this spontaneous and fun, and very unlike herself. And surprisingly, she was enjoying it.

"Do you live far from here?" the stranger asked. Claire shook her head, her apartment was about ten blocks away.

"Well, why don't I walk you home then? You didn't drive, did you?"

"No, my friend Shannon drove. She won't miss me. She will probably be in there for hours yet."

"Oh, so you were dragged along with a friend. I figured."

"Were you?"

"Of course. My friend, Jack. He's the gay one."

"See!" Claire said indignantly, but with a laugh. "There was some truth in my prejudice!" She stole a sidelong glance at this stranger's profile. He was laughing with her, his eyes gray and dancing once again. He had a strong chin with defined cheekbones; soft, sensual lips that were curved into a smile; a unique nose that Claire couldn't help but find endearing; and soft, wispy hair was falling into those beautiful eyes.

He then stole his own sidelong glance at her, catching her in the act of studying his profile. She quickly looked away, her cheeks already flushed from the cold turning an even darker shade with her embarrassment.

He, of course, immediately figured out what Claire had been doing and had a small smirk on his face. Thankfully, he decided not to antagonize her about it.

"So, would that make your Shannon friend a whore? Seeing as my friend was gay, and that's what you accused me of," he asked, teasing her.

Claire, however, took the question seriously, and she bit her lip, a habit that she had since she was five years old. "I wouldn't call her a whore. I'd say that she was vulnerable and disappointed by her lover, giving her low self-esteem."

"Sounds like you've given this a lot of thought."

"I have. Trying to rationalize some of her actions. It makes the most sense to me though," Claire explained, feeling sort of exposed now that she was opening up to this stranger and telling him things that she had never told anyone else. But it felt nice to tell these things to someone else, someone who wasn't her child who couldn't even respond or begin to comprehend what she was telling him, that is.

"What did her lover do to her?" This was amazing. The stranger actually seemed interested in her and in what she was telling him.

"It's an on-going thing. They sleep together for a couple nights, a week at most, and then he finds someone new and he tosses her aside. It's quite vicious to watch."

"Wow, that would wreck havoc on someone's self-esteem, I would think."

"That's not even the twisted part," Claire said, feeling a bit gossipy now that she was getting to the juicy and scandalous part of the story. The stranger cocked his eyebrow at her in interest. "Her lover... is her step-brother."

He dropped his jaw and his eyes bulged.

"Yeah, it's quite... improper. Her step-mother detests her because of it. But not her son. No, Boone can do no wrong," Claire said, letting her anger seep into her voice.

"Not a fan of Boone's, I take it."

"I don't think that I could possibly be a 'fan' of anyone who could do that to another person," Claire said passionately.

"Whoa, I meant no offense to you."

"I know. It's just that Shannon is so picked apart by her step-mom and her step-brother and by the industry and sometimes it just feels like... I'm her only friend."

He nodded. "She's lucky to have you."

Claire noticed that they were now at her apartment complex. She felt a strange longing for this walk not to end. She had enjoyed his company and how he had listened to her, it felt like a long time since someone had done so simple a thing for her. But reality would not have it, and in a few strides they were practically at her door.

"Well, this is me," Claire said, pointing to her complex. She suddendly felt awkward as they stopped and she fumbled to get her keys out of her pocket.

The stranger nodded his head. "Well, it was nice talking to you..." his voice trailed off as he searched for a name.

"Claire."

"Claire," he finished. He then surprised her by leaning in and giving her a soft kiss on her cheek. With a smile, he turned and headed on down the street.

"Wait!" Claire called after him. He turned back to her. "What's your name?"

"Oh," he called back. "It's Charlie."