John had been a good sport and had slow-danced with Claire through three songs, but she could tell that he had hit his limit by the time Whitney Houston started singing the fourth. He was beginning to get restless, and as a result, his hands kept venturing further and further south. Not that Claire minded having John's hands on her ass, but there was a time and a place, and the very public dance floor during their friends' wedding reception was not it.

"I never liked this song," she told him.

John's hands shot back up to Claire's waist. "Me neither."

"Do you want to take a break?"

"Yeah," he replied gratefully.

"Meet you in fifteen?" she asked.

"Sounds like a plan."

John headed toward the front door, while Claire made her way to the ladies' room. She wasn't alone when she entered; Kristen was in there as well, washing her hands at the sink. Claire silently walked past her, hoping to make it into a stall before the other bridesmaid noticed her.

Unfortunately, Kristen looked up and caught Claire's eye in the mirror as she reached for a towel. "You and John looked good together out there," she said.

"Sorry," Claire replied automatically.

Kristen gave her a baffled look. "For what?"

Good question. What was she apologizing for? "Because you and John were…" She had no idea, really, but she felt guilty nonetheless.

"Paired together with absolutely no say in the matter?"

"Yeah, that. And because you're into him, and I don't want you to think that I'm trying to steal him from you. It's just that John and I have this history, and it's kind of complicated, but we're really not together anymore, I swear."

Kristen laughed. "Seriously, Claire, it's fine. Don't get me wrong, I think John is super freakin' hot, and I would totally do him in a heartbeat, but I could tell that he wasn't into me. And now I know why. He's still hung up on you."

"No, he's n—" The protest died on her lips. "Like I said, it's complicated."

"It didn't look complicated when he couldn't keep his hands off you," Kristen said with a wink.

Claire blushed. It hadn't felt complicated either.

xxx

"You're a million miles away."

John turned. Claire was once again standing next to him. "It's been a long day," he wearily admitted. That morning seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Are you okay?"

If he said no, he would have to list the numerous reasons why he wasn't entirely okay, and if he said yes, she would know that he was lying. He opted for changing the subject, and hoped that she would think that he hadn't heard her. "So, how was the bathroom gossip tonight? Overhear anything good?"

Claire knew what he was doing, but played along anyway. She rolled her eyes and feigned annoyance. "Just because the TV tells you that women stand around in the restroom and gossip, doesn't mean it's true."

"Are you sure about that? I don't think the TV would lie to me."

"Well, I suppose if you must know, there may have been a rumor going around that John Bender is 'super freakin' hot'."

"Did you write that on the stall door in permanent marker?" he asked.

"In your dreams," she replied.

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, probably."

She shook her head. "How was the gossip out in the parking lot?"

"Men don't gossip," he informed her. "We brag about our conquests and trade war stories.

"Same thing."

"No, there's a difference. And, if you must know, I bumped into Dave Morgen over by the limos."

"Who?"

"You wouldn't know him, but he went to Shermer High. We took shop together. Apparently he's a chauffeur now." He had also just bought a house for his wife and three kids. Dave Morgen, the kid that used to sniff paint thinner, was now a responsible adult. The world was a crazy place.

"Good for him," she said cheerfully, even though she couldn't put a face to the name. "Speaking of limos…Brian said that he was going to leave in a few minutes. I was thinking that we could ride along with him to his hotel, and then have the driver drop me off at home and you back at Andy's to get your car. I mean, assuming that you're ready to leave."

"I've been ready to leave since I got here."

"You haven't been nearly as miserable today as you've pretended to be," Claire said.

"Who's pretending?" He gestured to his tuxedo, which was more or less still intact, and asked, "You think I actually liked walking around in this fancy get-up for half the day?"

"I think you had fun teasing Brian," she replied.

"Maybe."

"And I know you liked dancing with me."

A little too much. The half an hour that he'd had her in his arms had been the highlight of his fucking year.

"John?" she prompted.

"I heard you."

Claire frowned. "It's alright, you know," she told him softly. "You're allowed to have fun."

Was he though? Sometimes he wasn't sure. He had spent so long thinking that he was undeserving of happiness that he felt guilty whenever good things happened.

He looked over at Claire. She was beautiful, but she wasn't really his. The whole evening had been one big illusion, and now that it was coming to an end, he was going to have to give her up again. She wouldn't be going home with him because they weren't an actual couple. Even though he had pretended—and might have told Dave—that they were.

But maybe he hadn't been the only one pretending. "Why did you wear that necklace today?"

Claire narrowed her eyes at John. "Why are you still wearing the earring?"

"I asked you first."

And she was sure that he already knew the answer too. "I'm going to tell Brian that we're ready to leave," she said flatly.

"Fine. I'm going to go tell Dave that we need his services."

"Good, you do that."

"I will."

xxx

When Brian climbed into the limo, he noticed that Claire was sitting in the very back seat, picking at her nails, while John was sitting in one of the seats that ran the length of the limo, with his arms crossed over his chest. Brian raised an eyebrow at the obvious tension between them, but said nothing. Maybe John had been right about their truce only lasting through the reception.

Whatever was going on, Brian certainly wasn't going to stir things up by asking about it, so he quietly took a seat on the other side of the limo, opposite John. The driver shut the door behind him.

After a few minutes, Brian felt like he had to say something to break the uncomfortable silence. He opted for a neutral comment to get the conversation going. "Well, this brings back some memories," he said fondly. Nothing. He tried for a joke next. "The Princess, the Brain, and the Criminal ride again?"

"Sounds like a cheesy western," Claire muttered.

"Don't mind Claire," John told to Brian. "She's just pissed that I called her on something earlier."

"I'm not pissed."

"Sorry, embarrassed. But what I don't get is why. Did you think that I wouldn't notice? Or were you secretly hoping that I would?"

Claire ignored him and turned her attention toward the window.

"I was just remembering the last time all three of us rode in a limo together—on the way home from the Junior Prom," Brian said. "Do you know what I could never figure out? Where you guys went the following year. You never said."

"Bowling," John replied.

Upon hearing his answer, Claire looked over at John and they shared a secret smile. Instead of going to her Senior Prom, she had spent the evening with him.

Brian groaned. "Is that a euphemism? No, don't tell me. Forget I asked."

John just chuckled, and Claire decided not to correct him.

Finally having succeeded at lightening the mood, Brian relaxed and loosened his bowtie. "Man, I'm beat. I wish I didn't have such an early flight tomorrow morning."

"At least you'll be able to sleep on the plane," Claire said consolingly.

"I wish. I usually can't fall sleep again once I'm already up."

John leaned across and held out his hand in front of Brian. "Hey, let me see your tie for a sec."

"Why?"

"I want to see if it has the same thing on it as mine."

Brian slipped his tie off and examined it curiously. "What thing?"

"It's hard to explain," John said. "I'd have to show you." Brian handed the bowtie over, but instead of explaining, John pocketed the tie. "Thanks."

Brian looked to Claire for an explanation, but she was biting her lip in an attempt not to laugh. "Uh, what just happened?" he asked.

"He lost his tie," she told him.

"And the tux place said that they wouldn't give me a full refund of my deposit if anything was missing." John leaned back in his seat and tucked his arms behind his head. "I've got a tie now, so problem solved."

Brian let out a defeated sigh. "I can't believe I fell for that," he said, and Claire finally cracked up.

When they arrived at the hotel, John said goodbye to Brian out front, but Claire walked with him into the lobby. John watched through the glass doors as they hugged one last time. As much as he annoyed him, John had to admit that he was glad that Brian had been there for Claire over the years.

"You alright?" he asked when she had joined him again.

She nodded. "Just a little tired, is all."

"So, I guess that we should probably call it a night then, huh?"

"I guess."

"Or…we could take advantage of this sweet ride for a little while longer."

She perked up at that. "You're not seriously suggesting that we hijack the limo, are you?"

"Dave was bragging that he gets paid for being on call all night, so I figure that we might as well give him something to do."

"Where would we even go at this hour?"

"I can think of one place."

xxx

The diner wasn't busy when they arrived, and Betty greeted them almost as soon as they walked through the door. "Table for two?" she asked.

"Actually, can we have that booth over there?" Claire pointed to the empty booth on their left, by the front window.

"Sure thing, hon," she said, leading Claire and John to their favorite spot. "You know, there's something familiar about you two…"

"We used to come here a lot," Claire helpfully supplied, as she slid into the booth. John took off his tuxedo jacket and tossed it into the corner of his side of the booth before sitting down.

"Did you just come from the prom or something?" Betty asked conversationally.

John took a menu from her. "No, a wedding," he replied.

Betty nodded. "Yeah, I thought you looked older than that. Can I get you something to drink while you decide what to order?"

Claire glanced at the menu, but she was still pretty full from the reception. "I think I'm just going to have a Diet Coke."

Betty scribbled her order on her pad and turned to John.

"I'll have a chocolate milkshake and an order of fries."

"Alright, that'll just take a minute." Betty took their menus back and went to fill their order.

"How can you be hungry?" Claire asked.

John shrugged. "Fast metabolism? It's been a few hours since dinner anyway." For some reason that made Claire smile. "What?" he asked.

"I was just thinking about the time we stopped here on the way to Allison's after-prom party. Remember how we filled up on food because we were convinced that the only thing she'd be serving was Captain Crunch sandwiches?"

"And then when we got there she actually had normal food, but we were too stuffed to eat anything, and she pouted about it until you claimed that you were dieting and then made me eat a slice of pizza? Yeah, I remember. I don't know why we couldn't have just told her the truth, though."

"Because I was trying to be polite."

"Fuck polite, I thought I my stomach was going to burst!"

"Good thing you have such a fast metabolism," she teased.

"Ha ha."

"I had fun that night."

"Yeah, me too."

Claire looked around the still familiar diner. It was almost as if they had managed to go back in time. "I feel like I'm going to have to get up for school on Monday morning," she mused.

"No kidding." If he had thought that coming to the diner alone had messed with his head, it was nothing compared to what it felt like being there with Claire.

Betty brought them their order and they thanked her.

"I suppose you still believe in fairytales?" John asked, reaching for the ketchup.

Claire tugged the wrapper off her straw. She had given up on her fairytale dreams long ago. But did she still believe that they existed for other people? She wasn't sure. "I still believe that people can be happy together," she answered carefully. "Andy and Allison are a testament to that."

"It only took them nine years to get their 'magical ball'," he said wryly.

"I'm not saying it's a fairytale," she clarified. "Today was more like…a reward for all their effort. It's amazing that they've been together for so long. Through college and everything."

John pushed the fries around on his plate. "We wouldn't have lasted if I had stayed, you know. What we had—it wasn't the stuff of dreams."

"It was for a while."

"Right up until the clock struck midnight."

"And I fell apart," she admitted.

"That's not what I—"

"But it is what happened," she argued. "I was overwhelmed and I didn't exactly handle it in the best way."

Neither did he, to be honest. "I tried, you know, to make enough money so that you could focus on your classes."

She looked up at him in confusion. "Is that why you worked all the time?"

"At first." He had wanted to give her all the things that she was used to having.

"What about later?" she asked, but he ignored her and dipped two French-fries into his milkshake. She shook her head in disgust. "Revolting. You're just as bad as Allison."

"Nah, this is actually good." He popped the milkshake-covered fries into his mouth to demonstrate his point. "You should try it."

"John, what about later?" she asked again, gentler this time.

"Later…later—look, does it matter?"

"Yes."

It had been a long day, he was mentally exhausted, and he was sick of dancing around all the big issues. If she wanted to hash this out, then sitting in their old booth at the diner seemed like as good a place as any. "Later…I didn't want to come home."

She had suspected that was the reason, but actually hearing him say it hurt. "You didn't want to be around me."

"No. Maybe. I don't know. It was a long time ago." He dug his straw into his milkshake and pulled it back out again, watching the melted ice cream drip slowly back into his glass. "I just remember feeling like I turned into a monster when ever I was with you."

Claire eyes shot up. "No, John, you were never—"

"Why didn't you tell the others what happened?" He stabbed at his milkshake some more. "You should've made me out to be the bad guy."

"Because you weren't."

She said it so simply like it was a well-known fact, and that pissed him off. "I was," he insisted. "If Andy knew—if he knew what I did, he would have never invited me back, and everyone would've been happier."

"That's bullshit, and you know it."

He shook his head.

"Deny it all you want," she said, "but you know I'm right. We needed this."

He scoffed at her. "What, closure?"

"Whatever this is. And I didn't tell anyone what happened because I think deep down I knew that I was as much to blame."

"You?"

As if the very notion of her being partially to blame was absurd. "Yes, me. I said some pretty awful things to you that night."

He shrugged her off. "It doesn't matter."

"It does because you didn't deserve it."

"Claire—"

"No, just let me—I have to say this. I didn't mean those things back then. I knew it was wrong, but the alcohol…" She took a deep breath and started again. "I always knew exactly what to say to get a reaction out of you. I used to try to make you angry because then I could feel like I was better than you. It was a shitty thing to do, and I'm so ashamed of who I used to be. But I'm not that girl anymore; I take responsibility for my actions now. Just so you know."

"I know," he said resolutely. He could see how much she had changed. The woman that sat in front of him exuded confidence and maturity. And if she could find a way to put the past behind her, then maybe he could find a way to do the same. His hand reached across the table and found hers.

Betty came over with their check, and set it face down on the table. She smiled when she saw the two of them holding hands, and started to walk away, but then stopped. "Now I remember!" she exclaimed. "Oh, you kids used to eat here all the time! I always wondered what happened when you stopped coming in. I thought maybe…but look at you, still together after all these years!"

Claire caught John's eye across the table and silently asked him with a raise of an eyebrow, 'Should we tell her?'

To which John replied with a subtle shake of his head. "It was good seeing you again, Betty."

"Can I get you a slice of pie before you leave? We've got a real nice strawberry-rhubarb tonight."

Claire smiled. "No, thank you."

"We have to get going," John added.

"Well, you stop in again the next time you're in town, alright?"

"We'll try to," Claire politely replied.

Once Betty left, John looked over at Claire again. "You ready to go?" he asked.

"Yep." She opened her purse so that she could pay for her soda, but John stopped her.

"I've got this," he said, picking up the check. "This damn tux makes me feel all chivalrous and shit."

"It also makes you look sexy," she unabashedly told him, sliding out of the booth.

"Yeah, I'm a regular Prince Charming," he boasted.

"How could I forget?"

John counted out enough money to cover the bill and leave Betty a generous tip. Then he grabbed his coat and stood up to join Claire. "The offer still stands, Princess. Anytime you want a reminder."

Claire furrowed her eyebrows. "What offer?"

He slipped his jacket over Claire's shoulders and used the lapels to pull her closer to him. "The one to see my sword," he murmured low in her ear, then pulled away and gave her a smirk.

"You're still a pig," Claire said, trying hard to sound disgusted, but failing miserably to hide her smile.

He laughed, feeling happier than he had in while. Maybe it was the diner, or all the talk about fairytales, or maybe it was just Claire herself, but John found himself beginning to believe that the impossible was actually possible.

Outside in the parking lot, he gave Dave instructions to head to Claire's apartment, and then waited for Claire to climb into the back ahead him. He slid in next to her this time, and put his arm around her shoulders. She tucked her head under his chin and rested her hand against his chest.

"Hey, Claire?"

"Mmm?"

"If I answer your question from earlier, do you promise not to kill me?" John asked.

"Uh-huh." She was too distracted by the fact that she was wrapped in the familiar scent of his cologne and cigarettes to pay much attention to what he was saying.

"I haven't been wearing the earring this whole time. I pawned it when I got to Detroit."

That, however, got her full attention, and she pushed away from him so that she could sit up. "You pawned my grandmother's earring?"

He looked back at her in amusement. "Hey, I thought you said it was mine?"

"Well, I didn't think that you would ever pawn it."

He chuckled. "It's not like I had much choice. And if it makes you feel any better, I sold both my guitars and my entire record collection first."

"Marginally." She was on the wrong side of him to get a close look at the earring that he was currently wearing, but hadn't noticed anything different about it before. "I assume that since you're telling me this, you aren't just wearing a cheap knock-off?"

"No, it's the real deal," he said. "I regretted pawning it after I remembered what you told me when you gave it to me the second time."

"What I—Oh." Claire's cheeks turned pink at the memory, and she settled back against John so that he wouldn't see.

"Yeah, well, when I remembered that, I knew I'd have to get it back." He brushed a few strands of hair off her face and told her, "It wasn't easy. Even after I found a job at a construction site, I didn't have a lot of money after bills and cigarettes. I hung on to my claim ticket though, and kept hoping that I would save up enough, but after three months, I still couldn't buy it back, and it got put out for sale."

"Who would buy just one earring?" she wondered, and frowned as she imagined someone using it for a nose ring.

"The guy at the pawn shop said that someone would probably put it in an engagement ring because it was a clean diamond."

"That makes sense."

"Yeah, and he had me worried that someone was going to snap it up pretty quickly too. I checked back on it every Friday to make sure it was still there, but of course once it came off pawn, the price increased, so I had to save up even more money that I didn't have."

"Couldn't you have offered to pay for it a little at a time?"

John shook his head. "The pawnbroker wasn't interested in making a deal with me, he just wanted cash. Anyway, there I was, thinking my prospects were pretty bleak, and then one day, I ran into the old man that owned the woodworking shop across the street. He asked me why I needed to visit the pawn shop all the time, and I poured my fucking heart out."

"That's not like you."

"I know! But I hadn't really talked to anyone in, like, five months, so I guess everything had just built up, and I unloaded it all on Lou."

"That poor man. What did he say when you told him?"

"He offered to lend me the cash."

"Wow."

"Well, there was a catch. I had to agree to apprentice for him. Which I did, and now I'm a carpenter. So, that earring has seriously helped me more than you can imagine."

"And you've worn it ever since?"

"Yep."

Claire considered his story for a moment. "Hmm."

"What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"No, seriously, what?"

"Oh…I was just thinking that my grandma would've approved of that story." And what Claire didn't point out was that John, without realizing it, had told her his very own version of a fairytale. She took his hand and laced her fingers through his. "You already know why I wore the necklace."

"That doesn't mean that I wasn't surprised to see it. I didn't think you'd ever wear it again."

"Me neither."

Outside the limo, the city sped past them. They were only a few blocks away from Claire's apartment building. Last night had been a mistake. They had both tried to push things too far, too fast, without talking, and as a result had fallen back on bad habits. But tonight?

Claire looked down at their intertwined hands. She didn't know if it was a sign of something new or the end of something old. All she knew was that they had one night together, and she was desperate for it not to be over yet.

"I liked that kiss last night," she suddenly confessed.

"What, like this?" John tilted her chin up and kissed her on the cheek.

She nodded.

"What about this one?" he asked, dipping his head to press his lips against her collarbone.

She sighed softly. "I really liked that one."

He slowly kissed his way up her neck and along her jaw, before finally capturing her lips with his. Claire lost herself in the kiss, and for a moment, she thought that they had actually managed to make time stop.

Unfortunately, it was just the limo. They heard Dave open his door, and the count down started.

"If you ask me to come up with you tonight, I won't say no," John quickly told her, in between kisses.

"But, ah—" He was nibbling on her ear and it was making it hard to think. "But I thought we agreed to go our separate ways after the wedding," she managed to say.

"We never said when after the wedding," he pointed out.

She grinned. Leave it to John to find a loophole. "That's very true."

"So, what do you say, one last fling for old time's sake?"

She kissed his throat, just as she had done in the closet nine years ago, when she had started them down their path. "One night," she agreed, looking him in the eyes. "And then we can go back to our lives."

"Because you have zero interest in me."

"And you're totally over your feelings for me."

A/N: If you're curious about what actually happened on the night of Claire's senior prom or just jonesing for some lighter John/Claire moments, I wrote a 2-part story chronicling their adventure called 'All Dressed Up, No Place to Go'.