I tap my fingers absently on the bar top, waiting to settle up my tab. Another night at the Moonlight Lounge has come to a close, and I've managed to shut down the bar yet again. I figured I'd given up on that business some time ago, but…well, Monica has a way of making me want to stick around.

Even though I don't get to talk to her a whole lot, the possibility of getting a few moments with her keeps me from leaving too early. Ross hit the bricks some time ago; I don't think he's ever been the sort to stay up until all hours of the night, and his Navy training has him too nervous to toe the line too much.

Not me; I don't sleep much, and to be honest, there isn't a lot I wouldn't do for a pretty girl.

So the things I'd do for a beautiful girl are almost endless.

I feel someone behind me and turn; there's Monica, placing a tray full of empty glasses on the bar, and I feel my mouth go dry. She turns toward me a little, one hand on her hip, the other arm resting on top of the bar as she looks up at me, and I feel something inside of me start to shake.

How does she do this to me? In the space of about three seconds, I've been reduced to a quivering mass of nothing, and if she promised to look at me forever, I'd be more than happy to keep this feeling. Even if it meant that all I was capable of was staring at her.

"Hi sailor," she says softly, taking a tiny step closer to me.

I breathe in through my nose, catching a quick whiff of Monica before I answer. "Hi gorgeous. You doing all right this fine evening?"

She looks away from me for a moment, biting her lip, and I feel as if I could burst. "Better now that you're here."

Oh, what is she doing to me? I don't know if she spoke to me the entire evening, but with just a few words and her teeth playing with her lip, I want to fall down at her feet and promise her the world.

"Aw, shucks, ma'am," I say, grinning at her, and I immediately feel like an idiot. But she gives me a little smile, taking another small step toward me.

"The important thing is, did you have a good time tonight?" Her delicate fingers rest on my arm, plucking at my sleeve.

"It was splendid," I answer, my voice suddenly much lower than normal, and her eyes meet mine again, deep blue in the dim light, and I feel myself freeze. I can't look away—I don't want to look away. I take a tiny step closer to her, my eyes focused on her lips, when suddenly she's standing up straight, her hands straightening out the front of my uniform.

"Have a good night, Chandler," she tells me before turning on her heel, and I nearly gape at her as she walks away, her hips swaying gently as she disappears into the kitchen.

"C'mon, buddy, pay up."

I blink and look over to bartender, Carl, I think, and shove my hand into my pocket, pulling out a few bills. "Sorry," I mumble.

"Come back and gawk at the pretty girls tomorrow," he growls, stalking away and I shake myself out of it. Hurriedly, I walk through the front doors and cross the street. I walk down a few yards and look over my shoulder—all is quiet so I duck into the shadows and lean against the side of an abandoned building, watching the alley next to the Lounge.

Most of the girls have gone home for the evening, though I know a few of them were still cleaning up and waiting on the few remaining drunks. I'm sure I haven't missed Monica.

I pull my cigarette case and lighter out of my pocket, lighting one up and taking a long drag, blowing the smoke slowly out of my nose.

I don't particularly care if the other girls are still there or not, to be honest.

I sigh and shake my head, a little disgusted with myself. I really need to get a grip. No one's ever caught my attention the way she has, though. There's something about her that's spellbinding. When she's around, all I want is for her to pay attention to me. I do anything I can to make her look at me, though nothing I've done has been able to capture her attention for more than a few moments at a time. For a while she wouldn't even look at me at all unless I basically stood in front of her and spoke to her first. I thought she was shy until I saw her talking to just about everyone else. She's always very friendly and chatty and has a smile for everyone.

She has the world's most incredible smile—it lights up her entire face.

Until recently, she never actually smiled at me. In fact, I was pretty sure she didn't even like me until about a week ago when it seemed like her entire personality shifted toward me. All a sudden she's paying attention to me, giving me these little half-smiles and gently touching me for a moment or two; she's even gone so far as to actually pout at me once or twice.

It's stunning.

Welcome, but stunning, though I'm sure my mouth must have flapped at her like a fish for a while.

When the most beautiful woman in the world suddenly starts to pay attention to you, it's incredibly easy to be thrown for a loop.

And it's making me crazy.

I haven't even been able to make it with another girl since I met her.

Well it's not that haven't been able to; I just haven't wanted to.

I really thought I'd be going home with that waitress Marie the first night Ross brought me to this place. She was sending out signals left and right.

But she wasn't Monica.

None of the girls at that place are Monica.

Why can't I stop thinking about her?

When it comes down to it, I've barely spoken to the woman.

She's Ross's sister for crying out loud. He's probably the best friend I've ever had and I'm falling for his sister.

I don't think I'm supposed to do that.

I can't help the way I feel, though.

I keep trying to distract myself; there are a lot of awfully pretty girls that work at the Lounge, and most of them seem to like the attention I give them. I keep thinking that one of them will take my mind off of Monica and this whole thing will pass and my focus will move on to another girl.

It's been over a month; no such luck.

Every other girl in the joint is all but invisible to me. I've been vaguely aware that Marie's been throwing herself at me the last few days—it seems that not noticing her at all has thrown some sort of switch in her that makes me desirable.

I could get laid in a heartbeat.

I'm shocked to realize that I don't want to get laid. I just want to get to know Monica.

That's not like me at all.

I take another drag off my cigarette before flicking it away. The last few customers came stumbling out the front door a few minutes ago, so she has to be just about finished in there.

Not that I'm waiting to talk to her.

I sigh—when did I become such a coward?

I used to be good with women.

I suppose I still am; I'm just not good with this one.

Truly, though, I just want to get to know her. Partly because she's Ross's sister, and partly because, well...she's gorgeous, and that seems like as good a place to start as anywhere.

Not to mention that I can't stop thinking about her.

I hear a door across the street creak open and take a few steps back, trying to blend in with the shadows. I watch a few of the girls emerge, most of them turning left and heading down the street; one turns right.

Monica.

I watch her go a few paces before I start creeping along my side of the street, keeping her in sight. She keeps her head down, obviously trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. For as lousy as this neighborhood is, though, there isn't a lot of action at night.

As I've discovered.

It's just possible that I've taken to following Monica home after work to make sure no harm comes to her. The first time I did it was partly out of curiosity and just plain wonder—I couldn't believe she'd walk through this area in the middle of the night on her own.

She's got gumption, I'll give her that.

I was also hoping, that first time, to get a chance to talk to her, but I lost my nerve. So I settled for just making sure she was safe.

I even let myself believe the second and third time I followed her that I wanted to talk to her. After that, I wanted to believe it was purely for her sake and to make sure she was all right.

Now I know; it's for me. Yes, I do want to make sure no one hurts her, but these are a few minutes when I get to be alone with her, even if she doesn't know it.

I know that makes me a very scary sounding person, but it's the only way I can actually spend time with her, and I get to make sure she gets home in one piece.

But if a copper were to come by for some reason and see me lurking the shadows across the street from some pretty young woman, I'm sure I'd have a lot of questions to answer, and I don't think anyone would believe the answers. I doubt my CO would be happy with me, either.

And yet, I can't bring myself to stop. If my options are to walk away and not know what happens to her, or to follow her and run the risk of being caught…well, she's worth the risk.

I don't know how I know that, but I know it's true.

I can almost convince myself that it's my duty as a representative of the United States Navy to make sure a young lady gets home safely at night.

However, that would be a lot more convincing if I were actually walking with her instead of creeping along in the shadows.

I suddenly realize she's come to a stop, pulling out her keys to unlock the door to her apartment. That was fast.

She disappears through the door and I sigh. I don't know which apartment she lives in so I don't know where to look for a light coming on to make sure she's safe and sound. I don't even know if she would turn on the lights when she got home. Maybe she has roommates who go to bed earlier than her. Maybe she has a boyfriend.

I shudder a little. No, she couldn't. I don't see her as the type to live with a boyfriend like that. Besides, even if she did, what sort of fella would he be to let his girl walk home alone in the middle of the night? Not the sort she should stick around with, if you ask me.

I don't think Ross would let her be with a guy like that, either. I don't know how much say he has in her life, but he seems to care enough about her that he'd have a lot to say on that matter.

I realize I've been staring at her building for far too long and force myself to turn away. I know I should be getting back, but I'm restless. I'm still not really used to going to sleep before sunrise. Lucky for me I can function on very little sleep, but it makes for some very long days.

I reach a doorway and turn in, carefully climbing the dark, creaky stairwell. As far as I can tell, there has been nothing positive to come out of this Depression, but the closest I've found is that I wander through old buildings on occasion, which gives me something to do. Usually, though I find myself on a roof, staring out over the city. Up high at night, everything looks normal. I can't tell that most of the people out there are jobless or hungry or homeless or all of those things; everything looks peaceful and normal. From up there, there's no war going on in the world, knocking at our doorstep.

That thought makes me close my eyes for a moment as I come to a complete stop. I take a few deep breaths and force myself to finish walking up the stairs until I get to the roof.

I'm such a coward; I don't want to serve my country like this. I sure as hell don't want to go to war. I read enough about the Great War in grammar school to know that it's something I want nothing to do with. The thought of being shipped off to some other part of the world scares me in ways that should embarrass me. Ross doesn't seem bothered by it; he seems proud to be part of the Navy and ready to go wherever the brass tells him at the drop of a hat.

I'm only doing this because I'm being forced to.

It's not that I don't love my country; I just don't want to die for it.

I perch on the edge of the roof, bracing my back against a chimney and stare forlornly out at New York. This isn't the life I wanted. Hell, this isn't the life I was supposed to have. I got myself into it, though, and now I'll have to see it through to the end.

I just have to pray that the end isn't as final as it seems right now.

*A/N...the reviews, guys. Wow. Thank you. Your feedback does wonders.

And to Kel, who inspired me to add a little sum'in sum'in to this without even realizing it.