DISCLAIMER: I don't own James Potter, hot dancers, or awkward morning after's. I do, however, own Libby. :)


When James Met Libby.

James Sirius Potter has no idea why he's telling the story of how he fell in love. He's not even romantic! Falling in love went against everything he believed in … but it happened. And he invites you to listen if you dare. :James/OC recommended reading with GIR and CGIR NextGen:


Chapter 6: When James slept with the hot dancer chick.

Um, yeah.

Libby and I slept together. Did it send me into a tailspin of madness and chaos?

Why, yes. Yes, it did.

If the title of the last part of the story got you going, then what the hell is this title going to do to you? You're clearly wondering: how the hell does a hot dancer chick come into this? Seriously, to this day, I'm not entirely sure! All I know was that I was hurt, and that wasn't a usual feeling for me. It's a part of mine and Libby's story that I don't like to remember, and if I had my way I would leave it out, but I swear, it's essential to understand how I handled it.

(IE. not very well).

I was euphoric after that one night with Libby. It had honestly been the best night of my life up until that point! But it simultaneously freaked the hell out of me.

It wasn't so much about the sex – hell, I'd had enough experience in that department to know when it was incredible – rather, it was the scary feelings that came along with it. Honestly … I'd never associated sex with feelings before. To me, it was just something fun to do, something to get that release.

What the hell did I know about love?


(2026)

The world seemed to have a new zing to it! Colours were brighter, birds chirped louder, y'know, that sort of shit. My head was bloody pounding, but for some reason, walking into Café Julio was still a delightfully pleasant experience.

Bloody hell, I must have gotten some last night if I was using words like 'delightfully pleasant'!

Ok, yeah, Libby walked out on me. And as wonderful as I was feeling, there was still a slight sense of dread hanging over me, since I'd never had to face a woman again after a one-night stand before. In the past I might have made them breakfast in the morning or let them use my shower, but essentially, all that was said was a simple, "Thanks for last night, blah, blah, see you, mate!" I was rather used to girls sneaking out before I woke; hell, I even made sure to keep the window open for them!

But this time, I worked with the girl and I while I was dying to see her, I wasn't so sure if that was a good thing. Usually, I'd be content to never see the girl again. Never had I woken up to empty sheets, thought, "Oh, shit," then actually considered waking Rose from her hung-over stupor to make her tell me where Libby lived. It was a kind of crazy feeling, but I couldn't seem to shake the thought of wanting to see her again, wantingto have more.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't love her or anything; my thoughts from last night were just from the heat of the moment.

They didn't mean anything.

Totally not.

But, I'll admit, I may have discovered that I possibly liked her a bit more than I originally thought. And now, I needed her.

Considering that she had disappeared in the middle of the night, I should have expected an awkward silent treatment. However, for some reason, it had never even occurred to me! Maybe I had just gotten too used to the flirting over the years, so that it had become automatic to expect the answer of my calling out, "Hey, gorgeous Libby!" to be, "Morning, stud muffin!" or some other joking variation thereof.

But this morning, her answer was nothing. Skipping happily through the doors of the café, I spotted her immediately, working as barista. However, she only glanced up in between filling orders to sweep the crowd quickly, her eyes dark and tired (which wasn't all that surprising, seeing as we hadn't exactly slept until well after daybreak) and her black hair a wild mess, pulled back in a ponytail.

God, she was beautiful.

"Morning, gorgeous!" I called and her face snapped to mine with a look of, oh, bloody hell. Just when I was about to comment on her clear lack of sleep, she turned away from me without saying a word in reply, instead calling out the name of the customer for the next order of hot coffee. I didn't even bother try and keep the disappointment off my face. I considered trying again, but knew how stubborn that girl could be. I noticed Aurora's eyes following us during the exchange as she waited tables, but I didn't say anything, just huffed bitterly for the break room.

Seriously, James? You thought it was going to go better than that?

"Whoa, mate, what's your deal?" Butch, one of the chefs, said to me when I slammed though the kitchen doors to grab an apron.

I just glared at him from where he was chopping vegetables. "Nothing," I insisted, throwing the apron over my head. "I'm bloody fantastic! Which station am I at?"

"Uh, you're actually out front today," Butch said, raising an eyebrow, almost as if daring me to counter him. "Take it up with Aurora, if you want …"

Absolutely perfect. I managed to supress a groan and instead, threw on a happy face. "Why would I have a problem with it?" I told him. "It's fine!" I left the chefs behind in a now confused flurry of food, but I didn't care; I stormed back out behind the front counter, avoiding looking at the oh-so-addicting body of Libby Fletcher. I would just have to hope that Aurora would put me on waiting, or hell, even lobby, just anything but –

"James!" Aurora called out, apparently just noticing me as she approached the counter, several trays of dirty dishes balanced precariously on her arms. "We're completely swamped today, I need you on barista with Libby."

Bloody fantastic.


Think of the most awkward shift of your life … then multiply it by a million. That was probably almost (not quite) as awkward as it was to have to work alongside Libby. Working at the same station, it was impossible to not speak to each other, or accidentally brush fingers as we passed cups between us and I hated it, because instead of our usual relationship, Libby had retreated into a stony silence. She only spoke unless she was repeating an order or requesting something and every touch of her hands sent shivers down my spine that I was forced to ignore.

This felt wrong; this professional silence between us wasn't natural! If we had been working this shift just yesterday, she'd be bumping into me on purpose, throwing back my comments with a teasing toss of her pony-tail, regaling me her stories of her recent nights out. Over the past two and a half years, Libby and I had created a system that worked for us! For god's sake, I helped the girl stalk her cheating ex-boyfriend through the streets of London! Surely that guaranteed me at least a glance?

Libby didn't seem to think so.

At least I tried to keep things normal; I spoke to her how I normally would, hoping for a reaction, any reaction, to keep me going … because no matter what I might say, I couldn't stand the thought of losing Libby. But she countered my every remark, even when I asked her if her head was pounding as much as mine was. She had just sent me a withering look worthy of Rose Weasley and snapped for the next order.

Eventually, I got sick of her mood and I started snapping back. By the last hour of our shift, we had seemed to figure out that not talking was a lot safer and had just gotten to the point of ignoring each other completely. Unfortunately, as a result of neither of us mentioning that we had hold of it, an entire tray of cups was sent careening to the floor. Hot coffee and porcelain cups smashed everywhere and everyone within ten feet turned to stare.

"What the hell?!" Libby cried, stooping to hastily pick up the fallen tray. "You were supposed to have that!"

"My hands were full!" I countered, gesturing with the cups in my hands. "You'd know that if you actually graced me with–!"

"ENOUGH!" Aurora was suddenly storming forward through the tide of curious customers. When she was close enough, she snatched the tray out of Libby's hands with an unusually furious expression on her face. She turned to face Taylor at the register and added, "Taylor, take over as barista. I'll send Damon out to cover you. James! Libby!" she added in a bark and I noticed that I wasn't the only one who had jumped. Aurora jabbed a hand at the door to out back and yelled, "Manager's office! Now!"

Like little kids in trouble at Hogwarts, Libby and I were forced to troop into the office behind Aurora. Everyone we passed out back stared and I noticed Butch as he waved his knife and mouthed, "What did you do?!" It was rather satisfying to be able to slam the door to the manager's office shut, cutting off their damn curious faces.

Unfortunately, that meant I was stuck in a wardrobe-sized room with two women who, as far as I was aware, were both angry at me. The perpetually messy manager's office was just big enough to contain a large safe and a desk, the latter of which Aurora perched a hip on as she turned to glare at Libby and I. Standing before her, Aurora folded her arms with a look that honestly scared me!

"Now," she began, dangerously. "I have no idea what is wrong with you today, and seeing as it's you two, I don't think I even want to know. But whatever it is, I will not have it disrupting the work place."

"I was just trying to do my job, Aurora," Libby put in.

I opened my mouth to retort, but Aurora cut me off.

"I don't care who did what!" she said. "I will not tolerate smashing equipment and worse, arguing in front of customers! Now, I like you two, and I'd really hate to have to fire your arses, so you are both going to take fifteen minute breaks. I'm not done yet," she added, her voice low and serious, clearly noting the surprisingly relieved looks on our faces. "Those fifteen minutes are to be spent here, in this office, where you will talk out whatever the hell it is that has made you act like this. When you come back to the floor, I will expect both of you to be calm, professional and willing to work together to brew the best damn coffee our customers have ever tasted. Understand?"

She didn't even give us a chance to nod; by the time I had opened my mouth, she was already storming out of the office, letting the door bang shut behind her. For a moment, there was silence as Libby and I just stood in our positions next to each other, rooted to the spot. Then, Libby sighed and she moved to take over Aurora's position sat on the manager's desk.

"Please, for the love of god," she began, finally meeting my eyes. "Never let me go out drinking with just Rose and Bea ever again."

"Fair enough," I answered, leaning against the office door.

She didn't reply for several moments, so eventually, I just shoved my hands into my apron pockets in hopes that I wouldn't do something stupid, like try to pull her close to me, or run my hands up her back and slide them into her hair, Libby sinking into me …

Anyway.

"So is that it?" I asked.

"James, what else is there to say, really?" Libby rolled her eyes. "We had too much to drink and we slept together, it doesn't take a genius to put it together!"

"Yeah, but – wait, put it together?" I suddenly said, staring hard. "You mean you don't actually remember what happened?"

"And you do?" Libby raised an eyebrow. "C'mon, what did you expect? Everything was pretty much a blur last night, but I woke up naked and in your bed, it wasn't that hard to figure out what had happened. We used protection, right?"

"What–? Yeah, yeah, course we did–" I started, wondering how the hell this conversation had taken such a turn for the crazy.

"Wonderful, that's all I need to know, then!" Libby said, brightly. She probably caught the look on my face, however, as she let her hands fall to her knees and said in a much gentler voice, "Look, James, I don't blame you. I can get pretty needy when I'm drunk, I probably didn't give you much of a chance to push me away. It's just rather awkward to carry on as if nothing happened."

"But something did happen," I pointed out.

"I know," Libby let out a huff. "Look, I get that last night was a horrible mistake, so I can just pretend it never happened if you can?"

Hell no! Clearly, she wasn't able to remember how it had felt. If she had only drunk as much as I had, would she be saying something different? Perhaps suggesting we go out for coffee at some point? Or if I'd drunk as much as she had, would I be just as willing to forget the whole thing?

It didn't matter. Because I did remember and like hell was I going to pretend otherwise.

I kind of wanted her more than anything … that wasn't a big deal, right?

"Libby," I said, not even trying to supress my grin. "Please forgive me when I say that I don't think I can ever pretend it didn't happen."

To say Libby looked taken aback was a bit of an understatement; she looked bloody gobsmacked. "You what?" she said.

"You and me," I pointed out. "It's in my head, it became real, and you want me to just forget about it?"

"What else did you think would happen?" Libby said then, sounding slightly exasperated. "And, James, don't you even mention the word 'relationship'–"

"Ok, honestly?" I said. "I thought you would at least want to remember what it was like being with me."

"I'm telling you now, I'm glad I don't!"

"Because you're scared of what you might feel if you did."

"I–" Libby gaped at me, slipping slightly off the desk. "No, I – I would not–"

"Lib," I grinned in a way that was probably rather frightening; I couldn't help it! "I'm going to make you a promise. I swear that I am going to make you wish you remembered just how brilliant we were together."

Libby had managed to recover slightly and now, she just snorted with laughter at me. "I highly doubt that," she scoffed.

"I'm serious!" I told her. "I am going to make you beg for me back."

Libby moved then, sliding off the desk with a slight smirk, all traces of being uncomfortable gone. For a moment, I managed to keep the smug look on my face, but then she walked towards me, or rather sauntered. It was enough to make blood rush to rather inappropriate places and I swear my breathing hitched when she leaned in close enough to touch. I had to force my hands to stay in my pockets and tell the wild fire inside me to just stop, as she teased,

"Good luck with that, James."

And it was pitifully easy for her to push me out of the way, so she could disappear back through the office door.

I only had one thought:

Oh, it is effing on!


A game started up between us that day. We had always flirted, Libby and I, but never that seriously. Only now, I'd gotten a taste of what it was like to be with her. That day, I had resolved to make it my mission to be with her once more or, as Fred liked to put it, to 'try and get into her knickers'.

It was more than that. I didn't just want sex. I wanted everything; I wanted her. Believe it or not, I had managed to hold down a girlfriend or two over the years, though they might never have become anything serious, so it wasn't a completely unheard of concept coming from me! But when I had made it my resolve to be with her, Libby had apparently made it her's to stay as far away as possible! Where my flirtations had often been met with teasing remarks, I was now suddenly stopped short with withering looks, slaps at hands and Libby's contemptuous voice saying, "Seriously, James?"

Our relationship had changed and I was not happy about it. Though, it wasn't for the lack of trying.

"… mate, this is getting beyond ridiculous," Fred pointed out, twirling his empty beer bottle around on the table.

"How? How is this ridiculous, Fred?!" I cried, dramatically. My efforts to try and entice Libby had continued for two weeks with absolutely no results and it seemed that my best friend was sick of it. Turning up unannounced at my tiny flat, he'd stormed straight in, taken one look at me wallowing in my underwear on the sofa, then proceeded to throw a shirt from the floor at me and claimed we were going out tonight.

Out tonight. Oh, mate, why did you have to say that?

So I found myself sitting in a crowded pub late on a Saturday night, trying to get Libby out of my head. We often frequented Muggle bars, since Fred pointed out that it was easier to not forge a connection with a Muggle girl, than a magical one. There was less in common, which was perfect for our fun, if somewhat whoreish, high-life. Fred had already scoped out those he had determined were the clearly single women he thought he might have a shot with, but I was barely looking up from the table top.

"James," Fred said, snatching my own drink away from me to make me look up into his brown eyes. "You need to quit this! Seriously, I thought it was bad enough when you hadn't slept with her! Do you want to be tethered to one woman for the rest of your life? Because that's where you're heading, if you're not careful!"

"My brother is basically tethered for life," I shrugged. "He seems pretty happy to me."

Fred rolled his eyes, slamming the bottle down. "That's Al, I think he's the one and only exception here. Your brother just can't do single."

"And I can?"

"You were fine up until now!" Fred cried. Then, he must have noticed the look on my face, because he sighed dramatically and said, "Oh, go on, then. Convince me; why the hell does getting with Libby mean so much to you?"

"I don't know!" I said, but I grinned, thankful for the opportunity to try and explain. For all of his faults, Fred Weasley cared a lot in the end for his mates. He might have a twisted sort of logic, but he always meant well, and I saw it in these brief moments where he would just let me just sit here and ramble about a girl. "She's … she's got a spark to her, y'know? Even before we slept together, I felt it, I knew that she was someone I had to know. She's eccentric, she's hilarious, and mother of god, is she hot …" I paused for a moment, trying to express that deep-seated need to be with her. "… at this point, I don't even care if there isn't a relationship. I'll take what I can get. I just want her, Fred."

Fred stared at me hard for a long while; in fact, for a moment, I feared I'd somehow broken him and that he wasn't going to say anything ever again! But then his face split into a wide grin and he exclaimed,

"… bullshit!"

"Your support is impeccable, thanks, mate."

"No, seriously," Fred told me, laughing. "I get you, she's brilliant and hot and all that, but mate! You did it, you slept with her, so you don't need to whine anymore! Sure, it might have been amazing but please, time to move on!"

I tried to huff at that, but really … why shouldn't I be trying to move on? It's not like she's expressed a desire for anything more; on the contrary, the past two weeks have been filled with nothing but cold rejection. There was only so much a bloke could take! I mean, I'd never really considered myself an emotional sort of bloke, but I'd spent a lot more of the past two weeks than I usually did wallowing (which normally included bad P.V. soap operas and ice cream of some kind).

I hesitated saying any of this, lest I come off as a bit of a girl, but that was when Fred said,

"I don't get why you're still moping! I mean, honestly? I don't know why you're not angry!" I narrowed my eyes as he reached over to start twirling his empty drink around on the table top again. "I mean, I reckon if anything, she's been a bit of a bitch to you."

"What?" My instant reaction to that statement was to simply punch the shit out of him! But, since he was my cousin and my best mate, I decided to reserve judgement and hold it in … barely. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying!" Fred said, defensively. "Think about it, this girl flirts with you for years and then, when you actually decide you want more, she turns around and shoots you down? Personally, I don't think that's on."

"But …" I wanted to defend her. This wasn't Libby's fault! I'd never given her any indication over the years that I ever wanted anything more serious! In fact, if I had been in a slightly more sounder and more reasonable mind, I might have actually come right out and said that. As it was, the more I thought about it, the more I just wanted to be angry.

It was easier to be angry, than to face the pain of disappointment.

"You're right!" I said.

"What, seriously?" Fred looked surprised at that.

"Yes, seriously!" I cried. "The least she could have done was make it obvious that there was never going to be a chance, but she practically led me on!"

"Exactly, you don't need that, mate," Fred nodded at once.

"Yeah, I can't believe what a bitch she is!"

"She totally doesn't deserve you!"

After agreeing heartedly once more, I downed the last of my drink in an attempt to block the burning in my chest. It didn't really help, but at this point, I was willing to do anything to get rid of it. Libby Who? "Come on then, Fred," I said, wincing against the bitter taste of alcohol in my mouth. "What I need is a good night out!"

"Well, you're in luck!" Fred said, cheerfully. A mischievous grin was coming to his face, now; the grin that was usually followed by a slap from a girl or detention from a teacher. He clapped a hand on my shoulder, turning in the booth of the table we were sitting at to nod towards two girls over at the bar. The sat together, laughing over their wine and I noticed that every now and then, one or both of them would glance in our direction. They were both blonde, gorgeous, and completely not Libby. "Those chicks have been eyeing us up ever since we arrived."

"Are you sure?" I pointed out. "Last time you said that, we got thrown out of the club for inappropriate touching."

"I'm sure this time!" Fred said, exasperatedly, punching me on the arm. He caught the eye of one of the girls and he flicked her a grin. "What d'you say? You in?"

Oh, I was so in.


I'm fairly certain the girl told me her name at some point, but honestly, I couldn't for the life of me remember it. The only piece of knowledge about her that stuck in my mind was that she danced for a living, which I had to admit was a little hot. She hadn't exactly been interested in talking much when Fred and I approached her and the other blond girl, who was apparently her older sister, so it hadn't taken long for her to hail a taxi and drag me into it; I hastily told the driver my address and hoped like hell the girl had Muggle money to pay for it.

I've never regretting sleeping with a woman before. I loved my life and the choices I made; sex was sex, there was no need to make a big deal out of it and I never did. I didn't even wish that I'd never slept with Libby. But that night had ended up being a first for a lot of things, since the entire time, I did nothing but compare her to the last woman who had been in my bed: those hands weren't as sizzling as Libby's, those lips weren't as soft as Libby's, that skin wasn't as smooth as Libby's …

I had done it because this girl wasn't an eccentric Cursebreaker and part-time waitress who drove me insane. I did it because I wanted to forget how much it hurt every time she said no. I did it because this girl was a distraction and the moment I found myself breathing hard, sprawled out on my back and staring up at my bedroom ceiling, the girl curled into my side, I realised that I regretted every single second of it.

Libby and I had simply fitted together. When we were connected, it was like the world just melted away and nothing else existed. Dancer girl was just … there.

It wasn't right.

"You … whoa," the girl said then, grinning into my chest. "That was …"

I reached up and pressed on my eyes with my fingers, hard; it unfortunately wasn't enough to block out what had happened. So intense was my horror at myself, that I barely even noticed the girl's fingertips tracing patterns across my skin. In fact, it didn't even register that she was moving at all until her lips brushed against my neck and suddenly, I was sitting bolt upright, leaping away and causing the girl to yelp slightly as I jolted her.

"Ouch!" she cried, the duvet somewhere around her waist as she glanced up in confusion. "I'm sorry, did I make you jump or something?"

"No, I–" I cut myself off, staring at her as I realised: I actually did that. I totally just slept with a random stranger because the girl I actually wanted to be with had rejected me. Pathetic! I was completely pathetic. "Oh, shit …" I moaned, covering my face with my hands, resting my elbows on my knees. "Shit, shit, shit …"

"Ah …" That one word was all the girl said. Hastily, she started moving towards the other side of my bed, where her black dress was waiting, tossed haphazardly to the ground with the rest of our clothes. "Don't tell me," she said as she started dressing. "You have a girlfriend, right?"

For a moment, I just stayed like that, my eyes pressed shut as if I could block everything out. The horrible thing was that that was exactly what it felt like; that I was betraying Libby somehow, even though we weren't together, and nor was it likely that we would ever be together!

"I – no, no I don't," I said, quickly. I moved my hands away then, glancing at the floor and noticing my boxers a few feet away; I yanked them on just as the girl finished dressing. Standing up to locate her shoes, she glanced back at me with an odd expression.

"Then why're you acting like you do?" she asked.

"Um … it's a bit complicated …" I admitted. Then, noticing her look around, I added, "Er, I think one of your shoes in under my desk."

"Oh – thanks," she said, crouching down to retrieve said shoe, heeled, purple and sparkly. When she leaned up, she must have noticed my perpetually miserable face, because she sighed and sat back down on the edge of my bed, curling a leg under her to face me. "Oh, go on," she said then, a small smile coming to her still-slightly-red face. "want to explain?"

"We'll be here a while," I pointed out.

"My sister's out doing god knows what with your mate," she answered, shaking her head. "I don't think either of us were planning on going home soon, so I've got all the time in the world! Clearly, you don't have to talk if you don't want to …" she added.

Ok, so this wasn't exactly what I'd imagined happening! Not only was it another first (a woman I'd slept with actually wanted to stick around afterwards? And she wanted to talk about another girl?) but I found myself actually wanting to talk about it!

I know. Insane doesn't even cover it.

"There's this girl, right?" I suddenly said, moving over more comfortably to my side of the bed and talking to my duvet. "I work with her, known her for years, and she's amazing. Totally amazing, like can't get her out of my head amazing, even though I don't exactly do relationships and love and all that shit …"

The girl was actually starting to smile as she watched me speak. "Something's telling me that that's not the problem," she said.

"She hates me!" I agreed, flinging my arms into the air, dramatically. "Or, well," I quickly added in a slightly more subdued tone. "I'm fairly certain she wants nothing to do with me at least, especially after what happened … We've been flirting for years and a couple of weeks ago, we both got drunk and we … er, kind of slept together," I finished awkwardly, not meeting the girl's eye.

Seriously? You've seen this girl naked, yet you're too embarrassed to look at her?

The girl just watched me for a moment, considering. "Are you in love with her?" she asked.

"No!" I cried at once. "But – no – I don't know …" I grumbled. "It just seems too surreal, you know? Ever since that one night together, she's practically ignored me! Reckons it was a mistake and just wants to pretend it never happened! But I can't do that," I tried to express how much I meant that statement into just those four words. I don't know how successful I was, but the girl was looking at me rather intensely, so I hoped the point had gotten across. "and I've tried to forget about her, I really have! Hell, I let myself get talked into going out tonight!"

"And sleeping with me," the girl added.

"Ah, yeah … sorry about that," I said, wincing at how sheepish my words probably sounded. "That's why I freaked out before … even though she's never been my girlfriend, it sort of feels like I've cheated on her …"

The girl was silent for a few moments as she processed this and I just sat there, thankfully not too uncomfortable anymore. Clearly, the girl didn't have too many problems with me using her, or she wouldn't have sat here and listened to me blurting out all my stupid issues, so that was a plus! But I still felt terrible, until the girl spoke again.

"Ok," she said, voice strong. "First of all – you did not cheat on her, so you shouldn't feel badly about that. The reason you feel so guilty is probably because you've betrayed yourself, rather than her. But, if what you say is true, then you haven't hurt her, so you need to stop worrying about it."

Her words made sense, and let's face it, it was easier to place the blame all on myself, so I was quick to accept that statement with a nod. The girl continued, "As for why you did it … you've admitted that you're upset and confused. That's enough to make anyone do something stupid. And you regret it, right?"

"I'm sorry," I said in answer.

The girl waved that off. "Everyone makes mistakes … Jamie, was it?" she asked and I just shrugged, not even bothering to correct her. "And the only person you've hurt in this situation is yourself, so you can either get past that, or choose to let it eat you alive. Your decision."

I snorted at that. "Y'know, I kind of like you," I pointed out.

"You're not so bad yourself," the girl said, giving me a soft smile. "As for what to do next …" she shrugged. "I can't really help you there, seeing as I don't exactly know you. But I will say this: be yourself, and nothing can go wrong!"

At this point, being myself seemed to cause nothing but drama, but I appreciated her words all the same. "Thanks," I said.

"And for what it's worth," the girl added. "I had a good time tonight."

There wasn't really an answer I could give her that wouldn't be either awkward, or a complete lie – what, could I really say 'me, too' or 'you're welcome'? – so instead, I simply asked her, "Do you have money to get home? Sorry, I don't have a car or anything, or I'd offer you a ride …"

"I'll be fine, thanks," the girl said. She stood from my bed and I watched as she bent to collect her other shoe and purse from the floor. She made for the door and just when I thought she would walk out without another word, she turned back and said, "Y'know, Jamie, I hope you end up with her. That girl doesn't know what she's missing."

I grinned. "Thanks."

It wasn't until half an hour later, when I was unable to sleep and therefore making myself a cup of tea in the middle of the night, when I realised that I'd had a complete heart-to-heart with a girl whose name I still didn't even know.


(2030)

"I never saw that girl again, by the way," I added to Rose, who was curled up on my sofa with her feet in my lap. Even all snuggled up with me, she still managed to look disapproving. "Mind, I might have seen her picture as a part of a line up for a new musical a few years back, so perhaps the dancing career really did take off?"

Rose didn't seem to appreciate my joke. Oh, dear. She looked rather pissed off.

"Um … you're not going to kill me, are you?" I asked, hesitantly.

"Rebound sex?" was all she said, rolling her eyes. "Really, James?"

"Rosie, I swear, I regret that night more than anything," I said, quietly. "I shouldn't have slept with that girl. Though she was nice to talk to, she never meant anything more other than shoving it back in Libby's face that I didn't need her. But I was wrong, I did need her. Believe it or not, but even a Stud Muffin like me can feel hurt."

Rose thankfully cracked a grin at that, and I knew that she wasn't really mad at me. "Well," she smirked. "I suppose that's what you get for calling yourself a 'Stud Muffin'!"

"Oi!"

Rose laughed at that for a moment. However, she was quick to quieten down, and she glanced behind her towards the hallway. "I'm sorry," she said, softly. "That wasn't too loud, was it?"

"Nah," I reassured her. "My girl can sleep through anything. But I did listen to the dancer girl's advice in the end. I wasn't going to give up. I don't think I could ever give up on Libby."

"You did though, didn't you?" Rose asked then. "I thought you only went after her for another year or so."

I thought back to all those years ago; remembering pathetically-in-love-but-oh-so-in-denial-about-it- James was kind of embarrassing (and that painfully awkward sort of embarrassing, not just that laugh about it later embarrassing), but the story was an amusing one to tell! "Yeah, you're right," I pointed out. "I only seriously kept it up until near the end of that next year. By that point, I'd had my heart stomped on far too many times to consider keeping at it."

"But you were in love with her!" Rose said, exasperatedly.

"You think that was enough?" I laughed. "I'll admit, even after I gave up, a part of me always held on to the idea of Libby, but Rose, it was seriously about another two years before I actually accepted what being in love meant! At that point, 21-year-old me just figured, hey, it's love, it's nothing serious! I barely understood it, so I pushed it away. I did a lot of crazy shit in the meantime."

"Like what?"

"Well," I thought. "The dancer girl was the start. Then, did Libby ever tell you about when she actually changed her hours at work so she wouldn't have to see me anymore? There might have been some stalking, and oh, we can hardly forget the time I blew up Uncle George's shop for her–"

"James," Rose cut in at that point. "I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself."


A/N: Oh, James. He's a complex soul. Try not to blame him too much for his whacked up thinking. And so starts the awkward stage of their relationship! I'm very glad that you all enjoyed the last chapter, I hope this one was just as good. Please let me know what you think. :)

Until next time -

- Moon. :D