A/N Sit back and let the story unfold, all. I can't satisfy everyone, since it's just that kind of story, but there will be drama and romantic tension galore.

"Andre?"

I enjoy spending time with Andre, so I'm going to seize this opportunity to hang out with a decent person that won't think it's a good idea to see just how much our disposal can take. I love Cat- we're talking about as a friend here- but she's not terribly... stable. It is easy for me to get along with her, miraculously, but she's sometimes exhausting. And now that I am roommate-less, having a phone buddy could be good for me.

"Wha- yeah? Who is this?"

"Jade. C'mon, Andre, caller ID has been around for at least twenty years."

Andre groaned. "Well, I'm sorry for wanting to keep the surprises alive in this day and age. And, y'know that you called me, and I could hang up. I'm sure that you want something from me."

Grinning to myself guiltily, I say, "What? Why would I possibly want anything from you? I just so happen to be in town for two days and would love to meet up with you."

"You never just want to meet up," he points out. This is actually something of a fair assessment, as I always have a film project to ask him for help about or some contacts that I want.

"All right, I want something from you. Happy?"

He laughs lightly. "Yes."

"And maybe I make excuses to talk to you because you're actually tolerable to be around? And I kind of need someone to talk to?"

"Oh, this is new. You've never gotten so emotional on the phone." Oh, come on. This is not fair. He's implying that I'm emotional elsewhere.

Seething a little, I ask impatiently, "Are you busy or not?"

"I'm busy... tomorrow. Meet tonight at our usual spot? Seven?"

Satisfied, I tell him, "Come alone," and hang up immediately.

Our usual spot happens to be the restaurant in my hotel. A few years back, we had been trying to find a good place to meet up. Even though we both lived in LA for years, we had great difficulty finding the perfect combination of atmosphere, quality food, and lack of tackiness until I gave up one day and suggested we just eat at the hotel. I can honestly say that this was one of the best exasperated decisions I have made in my life.

We don't have a usual table because we only can meet up maybe, I don't know, three times a year. So I'm sitting alone at a booth, waiting for him to show up. It's 7:02 and I'm starting to get anxious. In my old age (or not), I have become very anal-retentive about time. I guess that comes from a high-stress job that has everything to do with time management.

He sits down across from me, and I didn't even know he had arrived yet. "Hey, Jade."

"What, no hug?" I stand up and open my arms. Somehow, I became a big ol' softy in the past few years.

Laughing, he gets up and gives me a quick squeeze before sitting back down. I do the same and take a sip of my water. A moment's silence passes before he speaks: "So, you wanted to talk?"

"Yeah, uh, I've got horror-thriller flick this time around."

He raises his eyebrows. "And you didn't tell me this on the phone why?"

"I didn't know you hated horror."

Shaking his head, he says excitedly, "I love freaky movies. Always wanted to write one of those themes. I'm so in."

"You're the best. We're just finishing pre-production for, honestly, everything else, and shooting starts in two and a half weeks. No need to get it done by then, though."

"Yeah, yeah. I know the drill. Send me the final draft of the script, pics of the cast and set, and all that jazz. I can have it done within the month."

The waiter comes at this point. We always get the same thing every time we come her, since we are just that adventurous. The usual topics of conversation come up: he's single at the moment, he just got slighted out of credits for a Grammy, he saw J. Lo and the supermarket last week. I'm keeping the conversation focused on him, deflecting his questions.

"What have you done since the wedding?"

I blush at the mention of that. "Uh, I've been here. In LA. That's it."

"Uh-huh." He scratches behind his ear. "Dating anybody?"

"No," I say, way too vehemently. "Actually, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Well, um, you see..."

"Spill it, Jade."

I take a deep breath and say rather quickly, "So Cat and I had our own bachelorette party, not a big one like Tori's. It was just us and she told me she used to have a crush on me in high school-"

"She totally did."

"Shut up, please. I'm talking. Right. And then she wanted to kiss me, and you know I can't say no to her. She's Cat. So we kissed, and it got a little heavier than... um..."

His eyebrows knit together and his eyes get wide at the same time. His expression would be hilarious if it was not so concerned. "You didn't have sex with her, did you?"

"No! But then I got to thinking."

"Oh, here it comes. The thinking..."

I roll my eyes. "I've never really had feelings for her before like this. I mean, I've always loved her. She's the best friend I could ask for, and I broke up with the last guy since I wanted to devote my time to her wedding. It's like, why didn't I think of this before? I see pictures of her and get all, you know..."

"Hot and bothered?"

"I wouldn't put it quite like that, but-"

Then the waiter comes, and I kind of want to shank him. I am having an extremely cathartic conversation right now, and I could forego my stuffed mushrooms to get all of this off my chest. I tap my foot impatiently under the table until the waiter is out of earshot before launching back into everything.

"I had a one night stand. Last night," I tell him, a horrified expression crossing my face. "She looked just like Cat, if our girl was over five feet. And she didn't try to tell me about something I never would have thought of in one hundred years. It was awful."

Andre looked uncomfortable as he chewed over a bite of steak. "You're not going to tell her, are you?"

"I don't know," I say frankly, poking at my food with a fork. "I don't even like girls besides her, and I'm stuck on this. Help me!"

"But I'm probably not the best person to ask?"

I've finally taken a bite of mushroom and I have say, "Why?" with my mouth full. I'm intrigued.

"I've kind of been stuck on Tori."

"Aw, poor us. We should hook up for the irony of it. Pair the spares."

He haphazardly makes cuts at this prime rib. "It's not funny. They're so happy together..."

"I cried at the wedding, I was so happy," I admit, feeling miserable about this whole mess.

We eat in silence, mutually commiserating. The food tastes especially good tonight, but I could care less. I'm so torn between wanting Cat to be happy and wanting her for myself, and Andre's been feeling that same way for years, probably. I've only got this fresh sting going.

"Where are you filming?" he asks to break the silence.

"Mm... Michigan. Ann Arbor, mostly. Why?"

"I can drop by around, oh, the 18th of next month, if you're still shooting. Haven't seen you work in a while, and I've got time."

I nod, thinking this through in my head. Today is the 24th of April, so that should work out. "We'll probably still be in principal photography. My cast's scheduling is all over the place. I only just got Cat on board, since her show run ends in around a week. Two months of free time for her before she has to go into rehearsals for her next show."

"Hold up, you've got Cat in your movie now? Isn't Tori on tour? Like right now?"

"I guess so. Why?"

He raises his eyebrows and I can see the gears turning. Not that I can see into his mind and figure out exactly what he's plotting. "Ms. Cat Valentine is going to be spending however many weeks with you instead of Tori."

"...No. No, no, no. I can not take advantage of this situation. You know how happy they both are together! I am not messing with that! And what interest do you have vested in this?"

"Maybe Tori wants a tour buddy?" he suggests faintly.

I shake my head in a firm 'no'. "Do whatever you want with Tori, but it's not going to work. I can't- Just- Ugh!"

The rest of the meal passes in silence uneventful. There's the other restaurant patrons making some noise, but it's still really awkward. It's only when the bill comes that Andre does something more involved than eating. He takes the little leather folder from the waiter, jams some cash in, and walks out before I can protest.

Rushed and curious, I open the folder and count the money. There's a little less than the bill in there. He must have prepared for this. I shove the small amount of cash required in the folder and follow Andre's path out the best I can to top all of this.

He's nowhere in sight.