(For disclaimer, etc. - see chapter 1)

Chapter 2

"So after you called, I had to clear things up at work and get back to the apartment to pack. Bobby was pretty much on the doorstep when I arrived, totally weird coincidence," explained Brando, in the back of the cab on the way to the hotel. "Apparently he was coming over to tell you he had the frequent flyer miles and ask if you wanted to used them. I kinda felt bad telling him you asked me to go with, but honestly? I seriously don't think he was angling for the invitation, he was just being a good friend. Well, he must've been 'cause he gave me the same gift," he grinned.

"That he did," P.J. agreed, trying to concentrate on the beautiful view going past her window, and pretty much anything but Brendan right now.

She had slept on the plane but in no way felt rested. Just as soon as she drifted off, her subconscious threw up a bunch of memories both long past and more recent. P.J. saw herself and Brendan, from way back in college up the present day. It was like their own personal montage of every special moment, and a few her mind created all on its own. Kisses that never happened, others that went way further than actually occurred at the time. P.J. had woken up flushed and confused, especially when she opened her eyes to the sight of the literal man of her dreams leaning over her, telling her she must've been having a nightmare given the noises she'd been making. If only he knew!

Now Brendan was alternating between singing the praises of Bobby, and getting giddy over the fun they were going to have in Italy these two weeks. Through all this, the only thing P.J. could think of were those kisses, both real and imagined. God, she wanted to kiss him right now, and couldn't imagine that feeling was going anywhere fast in one of the most romantic countries in the entire world. She was pretty much doomed, and that feeling of horror only grew stronger when the cab pulled up outside the hotel at which she had made her reservation.

"Oh my God," she gasped audibly as they got out of the car and Brendan moved around back to help grab the luggage.

"Wow, Peej, good choice on the hotel," her friend shot her a grin. "This place looks great."

"Uh, yeah," she smiled back just as widely though it didn't come easy.

P.J. had only made the hotel booking last week, since she hadn't been sure for quite a while if she would even be making this trip. Then had come the complication of who to bring, and knowing she couldn't just leave things to chance, she called her first choice of hotel and booked a room suitable for herself and whatever lucky guy would be her date. Yes, she had booked a double room, with a double bed in it, and now she was here with Brendan.

"Hey, er, Bren? There's something we need to talk about," she tried to tell him, grabbing the two bags he held out to her.

"Sure thing, Peej, but can we do it after we dump the luggage?" he asked her, headed up to the hotel doors. "I'm trying to be a gentleman here, but dude, my arms are gonna break if we hang around too long."

P.J. realised he had both their cases in his hands, leaving just the smaller bags for her to bring herself. He was such a good guy, the best friend she ever had. There was no way she could screw up this relationship by turning it into something romantic or sexual. She would have to be crazy to do such a thing, even if she did really, really want to right now.

"Hey, er... buenos noches?" Brando tried as he reached the front desk.

P.J. bit her lip and literally face palmed the moment she had dropped the bags to the floor.

"That's good night... and Spanish," she explained to him in a low voice, before looking towards the guy behind the reception desk. "You speak English, right?" she checked, so glad to see Roberto, as his name tag proclaimed, nod his head. "Okay, I have a room reserved. The name is Penelope Franklin."

Roberto checked his computer system, and P.J. looked nervously across at Brendan. She honestly wasn't sure whether to tell him she had only booked one room or not. Maybe he never expected to share with her at all. Maybe Brando planned to book his own room now that they were here.

"Miss Franklin, your key card," said Roberto, handing over said item with a flourish. "I 'ope you both enjoy your stay," he smiled in such a way that even Brendan looked like he might blush.

"Thanks, man," he said anyway, ushering P.J. towards the bank of elevators to their left.

She hardly knew what to say as she watched him push the call button and they stood there waiting, waiting, waiting.

"Brando, you know I only booked one room, right?" she asked him out-right.

"Well, yeah, of course," he agreed. "But we're sharing, right?" he checked, seemingly confused by the concept of anything else happening.

Before P.J. could answer the elevator arrived and Brendan went in. She had no real choice but to follow, but any kind of conversation was impossible as they crushed in with several other hotel patrons. They were outside the room, and P.J. was running the key card through the lock before either spoke again.

"I really appreciate this, Peej," said Brendan as the door swung open. "I mean, with things getting bad at the radio station, there's no way I could afford a vacation like this, but with you already paying for the flight and the room, I..."

His sentence came to an abrupt halt as he walked further into the room and got a good look at the furnishings. There was only one bed. One double bed for the two of them.

"I tried to tell you," said P.J. awkwardly as he looked back at her. "The way Steph was talking about us having boyfriends by now, I... I booked a double room," she shrugged, dropping her bags onto the carpet and closing the door.

"Right. Of course," Brendan nodded, though he couldn't really look at her.

This was what a person might call uncharted territory. He and P.J. had been best friends a long time now. They knew each others families, lived in the same apartment most of the time, and trusted each other completely. Nobody knew Brendan like P.J. did, and he'd like to think the reverse was true. Still, when it came to intimacy in a physical sense, this might just be a leap too far.

They were comfortable with each other. Comfortable enough to be squeezed close on the couch or in the back of a car, to share an apartment, even a room. Though it hadn't been deliberate, they'd seen each other naked, such was the way of things when people shared a home and weren't always great about knocking on closed doors. Putting their arm around each other, hugging and being close, it was no big deal really. They'd even crossed the line and gone as far as some pretty heavy making out twice now, once in college and once not so long ago when they recalled the old days. That didn't change the fact that sleeping in the same bed, just the idea of it, felt very strange. Almost too strange.

"Y'know, I'm pretty sure I could find enough cash for my own room," said Brendan, reaching to pick up the bags he had put down on the bed all of a minute before.

"No, don't be dumb," said P.J. reaching to push his arms back down, wishing the very next moment she had not touched him somehow. "I mean, we're grown ups, right? We can share a bed without it being weird!"

Brendan wasn't so sure he had an answer to that, especially whilst P.J.'s hands were still at his wrists. Most of the time he put it out of his head, the fact that P.J. was a woman, and not just that but a very hot woman that he loved like no other. She would easily admit to loving him too and had so many times over the years. They were best friends, of course there was love there, but not always the way he wanted. Going down that road never seemed to end well with the two of them. Now here they were in the most romantic of places, and P.J. was asking him to share a bed with her in a totally platonic best friend kind of a way. Yeah, Brendan was in some kind of hell.

The moment Teri walked away, Kenny hit Mike upside his head.

"Hey!" he complained too loudly. "What was that for?"

"You don't hit on the waitress," his fried told him crossly. "She's our waitress in our hang. You don't do that. Ever!"

"Seriously, Mike, that's not smart," Bobby agreed heartily. "And where did you even get that accent? That was just scary," he shuddered even thinking about it.

"What? I can't pass for Texan?" asked Mike with a smirk and the self-same accent he just used on Teri, the attractive waitress who was grinning at him from across the bar.

"Trust me, Mike, that is a road best left untravelled," said Andy, nodding sagely.

All eyes were on the lawyer as he sipped at his scotch. None of them could understand how he would know such a thing. Of course, the bigger question was still why Mike would wanna 'crap in his own backyard' as the saying went. Dating Teri was going to lead to absolutely no good, not least because she was bound to find out rather quickly that Mike was not the Southern country boy that he seemed. He never could hold that accent for more than five or ten minutes at a time, Kenny knew that much.

"I miss P.J. and Brendan," he sighed. "If they were here, P.J. would stop Mike from messing with the waitress and Brando... well, I just miss his smile."

Bobby looked across at his friend with a frown and decided not to ask for any elaboration. He kind of missed P.J. and Brando himself, but only because they were such good company. These guys were fun too, but tended to go a little crazy or get too far out of line without the others to balance them out. Bobby wondered vaguely if the pair were having fun in Italy. Of course, they hadn't been there more than a few hours yet, and were probably too jet-lagged to be doing anything but sleeping...

P.J. pulled away from Brendan, gasping in much needed air. This was crazy. One minute they'd been standing there talking about how they could surely share a bed without anything wrong happening. The next he was asking her why it'd be so wrong, and then she was in his arms and the kissing had started.

The last time this happened in her apartment, P.J. had been saved by the bell as the phone rang and Steph called for her help. Here there was no-one to walk in and spoil anything, nothing to prevent what was happening between her and Brendan for the third time in their lives. She wondered if that was a good or a bad thing really.

"What are we doing?" she asked, highly aware of the fact they had somehow ended up sitting on the bed together during their enthusiastic kissing.

"I don't know," he admitted, the hand that had been in her hair sliding down to her face. "Peej, you know I always had a crush on you from the start. In college, I told you how it was. I just got scared and weirded out by us being more than friends. Then last year..."

"Oh, Bren, neither of us handled that trip down memory lane very well," P.J. confessed, leaning into his touch. "I always regretted that, I mean, I really did," she admitted then.

"Me too," he nodded, leaning in closer until their lips met again.

This felt good. Ridiculously good, and that was why P.J. didn't want it to end. There ought to be a weirdness factor, there was in some small way. This was Brendan after all, her best friend, and he was kissing her with the same passion she knew he had turned onto a hundred other girls before, in her apartment no less! Somehow it didn't matter, because now she was on the receiving end of his kiss, his touch, and it felt amazing. She remembered their college days, the awkwardness there had been even in their drunken state. They were young and inexperienced then, but not anymore. She knew what she wanted and how to get it, and so did Brendan apparently as one hand slid up under her top. P.J. had a feeling she ought to stop this before it went much further, but her brain was fast forgetting why that was. This was like her dream on the plane, only all the better for being real. Neither of them were dating anyone right now, and deep down inside she had always known that Brando was her guy, above all others she had ever dated or known.

Truth be told, Brendan himself had been waiting for this day way too long. What he said before about having a crush on P.J. from Day One, that was the God's honest truth. She was amazing. P.J. was into almost everything Brando liked, able to hold her beer, she was one of the guys. At the same time she was gorgeous like a woman should be. She had a sensitive side that almost nobody saw but he knew very well was there. P.J. had this great personality and a killer sense of humour. She might not be perfect, but she was perfect for him, and on some level he'd known it all this time, but never been quite brave enough to say so. Now Brendan was showing her exactly how he felt and she was responding pretty favourably.

Their friendship, they were both aware of it and how this could destroy the extra special bond they'd had all this time. On the other hand, friends to lovers was the best thing ever, if the songs and movies were to be believed. Right now it felt good, so very good as they kicked off their shoes and she started to ease his T-shirt up over his head...

"P.J.!" Stephanie's voice was overly loud though the door she was rapping on like her life depended on it. "C'mon, please, open the door!"

"Oh my God," P.J. gasped, practically leaping out of Brendan's arms and rushing away.

The man himself had barely put his clothes and hair straight or got his bearings when Steph came rushing in. She was yelling about Lance, tear tracks clear on her face. There had been a fight, that much was clear, and Steph needed comfort and a place to stay. Brendan looked at P.J. and she looked right back over her best girlfriend's head. Was fate trying to tell them something here?

To Be Continued...