A/N: Hi folks, remember me? LOL

Sorry for the ridiculously long delay in getting back to this fic. Hopefully, this long chapter will put me back into your good graces. I'm already at work on the next one. HUGE thanks to GNG for her awesome beta skills *blows kisses* Special thanks to everyone who has read, re-read, PM'd, reviewed, alerted, and favorited. I just want to say that last month, this fic had over 2, 000 hits and I hadn't even updated. You guys rock. Without further delay…

xXx

Sharon watched the girl in front of her run the gymnastic circuit laid out before them. As the girl mounted the uneven bars, Sharon began her run for the springboard that would lead to the vault horse.

"Cherski, slow down!" Ms. McKenna, the gym teacher shouted.

Sharon landed with a thud, having missed the horse completely.

"Cherski!" Ms. McKenna yelled as she approached Sharon.

"I'm okay. I'm okay." Righting herself as she spoke. "I'm fine."

"What the hell was that, Cherski?" the teacher demanded in a whispered shout. "What are you trying to do, kill yourself?"

"I overshot, that's all." She straightened her clothing and headed for the back of the line, intent on making another attempt at completing the circuit.

"I don't think so. You're done. Locker room." Ms. McKenna pointed over her shoulder, towards the locker room.

"Whatever. It wasn't a big deal. I overshot. I'm fine." Sharon protested.

"I didn't ask for your opinion. All I need is for you to… Why are you still standing there? I said locker room!"

As Sharon passed by, Ms. McKenna pulled her aside, purposefully turning away from the other girls as spoke.

"Principal Foster informed me of your…condition and I'm letting you know now, one more stunt like that and you will find yourself writing a term paper on the history of golf instead of participating. I don't even want you in here, but you don't have a medical restriction, so there's nothing I can do about it…yet."

Sharon turned bright red with a combination of anger and embarrassment. She could see the other girls whispering and staring at her.

"Go get dressed and head over to the Nurse's office. I want it documented. And don't think that it's not obvious what you're trying to do." Ms. McKenna added

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play innocent with me. You've never been that enthusiastic in gym class before. You want to cause yourself a miscarriage, that's your business. Just don't do it on my watch. Got it?"

Sharon marched off, grumbling under her breath as she went.

xXx

"Mmmm." She moaned as he drew an earlobe between his lips. "It's been like, forever since we did this."

Their schedules had kept them from spending much time alone these days. Jordan was working long hours at the garage. Every yahoo with a kid graduating from high school was bringing in some wreck to fix up as a graduation gift for their little Johnny or Susie. It drove him nuts. Their expectations were completely unrealistic. He could make most anything pretty; paint went a long way and covered a multitude of sins, but getting these rust buckets to run well, that was another story. Invariably, he'd get the dad who dropped off a Chevette and expected to pick up a Corvette the following week. It reminded him of a word Brian had taught him recently, alchemy. Brian had said that the classic example of alchemy was the changing of ordinary metal into gold. Jordan thought his example made for a good comparison.

Angela had been no better off. Suddenly she had become Danielle's keeper. She was expected home directly after school and she couldn't leave until one of her parents came home. She had asked why it was that she was being punished and was thoroughly surprised when her mother mentioned that it was, in fact, Danielle who was serving time, though Patty had shared no further information regarding the younger sibling's offense. Angela had managed to go to practice with Jordan only once in the last week. She felt like a part of her was missing. Every kiss shared before and after school, every touch and glance during school was magnified a hundred times over and it was torturous.

It was Friday and with Patty off from work, Angela was free. She could think of nothing else all day. They'd ditched English both today and the day before, because Mr. Katimsky was absent. She was now missing Geometry for the first time in weeks. She knew she'd pay for it, but she thought the sacrifice was worth the cost.

"Jordan…" She moaned his name as he worked furiously to take her over the edge.

Jordan was consumed with the need to be near her, to touch her. The day before, when she asked him to skip English and go with her to the boiler room, she'd barely gotten the words out of her mouth before they were down the stairs and in each other's arms. The brief makeout sessions they'd had during lunch today only served to grow their need exponentially and led to them to the boiler room.

"Jordan?"

"Hmmm."

"Let's cut last." She panted

The promise of a less awkward venue, less clothing, and more time drew his attention from her breasts, which he now held in both hands.

"We can go to the loft. We got a while before practice starts."

She nodded.

"Does that mean you wanna stop?" He asked, praying that the answer was no, because either way, he couldn't go back upstairs anytime soon.

She licked his bottom lip and pulled on it with her teeth. "Uh-uh."

Thank God.

The next two periods seemed to last much longer than the hour and a half they were scheduled to occupy. Finally, they were on their way, cutting last period in favor of heading to the loft for some "alone time" before everyone else arrived for practice.

Once inside the front door, he picked her up and pressed himself between her legs, pinning her to the back of the door. She wrapped her legs around his waist drawing him closer. Running her fingers through his hair, she groaned into his mouth, fueling his need and he pressed into her even harder. Needing to remove the barriers between them, he placed his hands under her and pulled back from the door, carrying her up the stairs. The way that he effortlessly lifted her and maneuvered around, never breaking contact, never stopping to survey the terrain always amazed her. It was like he had some sixth sense.

Now, with her nestled into his arms, he planted tiny kisses on her neck and across her collarbone. His hands roamed her form as if he was trying to get reacquainted with it. He felt her hands reach under his shirt and it was all he could do not to rip hers off completely. He had come to know her body so well. He could read every movement, every goose bump, as if it were a roadmap to her satisfaction. She pressed herself into him forcing him to grind himself into her middle. This elicited a throaty moan from her as she drew her nails across his back. He thought he would go insane. Everything was heightened today and as much as he wanted to revel in it, he knew it would be over quickly if he didn't do something to draw it out.

He lavished attention on her breasts, licking, sucking, caressing. She could feel his breath on her belly as he kissed her belly button. He attempted to place her leg over his shoulder, nipping and licking at the inside of her thigh, when she stopped him. Never one to force the issue, he took her lead and made his way north once more. As anxious as she was to experience the intimacy they had shared on the night of his birthday, it was such an intimate thing that she couldn't imagine facing his band mates afterwards. She was sure there would be some indicator, something in her demeanor or his that would inform them of what had transpired.

With her fingers wound in his hair, she slipped out from under him and he filled the space she had vacated. Feeling her heat on him, he tried to slow his breathing lest he lose control. She'd have none of it and began to gyrate ever so slightly.

"God, Angela." He hissed, feeling her hand on him.

"Is that good?" She asked.

"You have no idea."

She chuckled. "Should I keep going?" She teased

He begged her to stop, just for a second, which she did, though she busied herself with his bottom lip and later his right nipple. Once again the tiny gyrations began. He loved when she took control and he could just lay back and enjoy the view. Watching her, skin flushed, eyes heavy-lidded. He never got tired of it. He pulled her down toward him and kissed her deeply while reversing their positions yet again.

The time for teasing soon drew to a close when he began to match her stroke for stroke. It was no time at all before she came undone. He continued to manipulate her as she did him. Their pace became frenetic. As she dug her nails into his back for the second time that afternoon, he called out her name and they were simultaneously done in.

His head came to rest on her shoulder. She ran her hand down the length of his back and up again causing him to shudder. She was enjoying the intimacy of their current position, him resting between her legs, his head on her chest. There was nothing better than when they were skin on skin, no barriers, no impediments. Once again, he placed a trail of kisses from the crook of her neck to her collarbone, one of his favorite spots. Clearly, it was a favorite of hers as well, judging by the response he was now getting. She was already squirming beneath him, trying to create friction. Unable to meet her need at that moment, he shifted slightly making clear that her quest was in vain.

"Babe, we gotta get up." He whispered into her ear and then nibbled it.

"Um-hm." She responded, eyes closed, enjoying his weight on top of her.

"So, get up." He teased.

"I seem to be weighted down." She chuckled.

"Is that so?"

"I'm not saying I mind or anything. I'm just saying that moving is not an option right now."

"Well, the guys are gonna be here in like, five minutes so…"

"Five minutes?" She shrieked and before he knew what was happening, he found himself face to face with a sofa cushion.

He laughed as he watched her race around, gathering bits of clothing and high tailing it into the bathroom.

"I was just messing with you. We have about a half hour before the guys get here."

"Jordan Catalano. That is NOT funny." She yelled through the bathroom door.

"I didn't know you could move like that. You should try out for the wrestling team."

"Not. Funny."

xXx

Sharon rounded the corner to the vending machine, where Shane was having a cigarette.

"Hey." She mumbled while fishing in her bag for change.

He nodded and watched her rummage through the bag. Just as she cursed under her breath, he handed her a crisp dollar bill.

"Thanks."

"You comin' to the show tonight?" He asked.

"Huh? Oh, no. My mom has me doing stuff at home."

He nodded, "Just thought you might need a ride."

Soda in hand and a twinkle in her eye, she turned to face him.

"I've got some time now…"

"Gotta be at the loft in an hour." He replied.

"Then I guess we should be quick. Meet me in the boiler room in five minutes." Before he could respond she was off, headed in the direction of their meeting spot.

She waited rather impatiently for him to join her.

"What took you so long? I thought you were in a rush?" She snapped when he got to the foot of the stairs.

Ignoring her, he walked past her and took a seat on the makeshift milk crate furniture long ago fashioned by a prior generation of hormonal adolescents. He reached out his hand and pulled her towards him. They wasted no time and soon she was using the milk crate to balance while he was lifting her skirt. She hissed when his hand came in contact with her hip.

"What?" He asked as he drew back his hand.

"It's nothing. I fell in gym." She shifted such that the affected hip was out of his immediate reach. "No big deal."

"You sure?" He asked."

"Yeah, I'm fine? Uh, can we like, stop talking?"

"Fine, I was just thinking that maybe, I don't know, you might wanna make sure the kid's still in there?"

"Well, considering that I've thrown up half a dozen times since I fell, I'm pretty sure it's still in there." She replied. "Anything else, mood killer?"

Shane shrugged his shoulders and picked up where he'd left off.

xXx

Brian and Amy sat in his living room, watching one of the four college recruitment videos that had been sent to her by colleges vying for her attention. As they compared the merits of Dartmouth and Columbia, the telephone rang.

"Brian! You have a call." Bernice called down to him from the upstairs landing.

"I'll be right there."

"A young lady named, Jade?" She added.

Brian felt his heart stop. He was sure he'd just had a heart attack.

"I'll, um, I'll be right back." He said to Amy as he walked towards the kitchen.

"Hello?"

"Hey Bob?" Rayanne replied.

"Bob?"

"As in "Sideshow'" She deadpanned.

Brian rolled his eyes. She'd been making comments about his hair all week and it was starting to annoy him.

"What do you want?" He asked impatiently.

"Is that any way for a sponsor to greet his charge?"

"I'm busy Rayanne, what do you want?"

"Busy? On a Friday night? Serious? Wait, is there a new series on PBS that I wasn't aware of?"

Brian sighs

"I'm hanging up now."

"Krackow, wait! Just tell me not to do it, okay."

"What are you talking about?" Hearing voices and clanging metal in the background he asks, "Where are you?"

"The restaurant."

"And what is it that you don't want to do?"

"The special today is penne in vodka sauce." She said, flatly.

"Huh? Penne in…Oh, OH!" Brian recalled Rayanne mentioning that she had a particular fondness for vodka and while the bottles of wine that were used daily in the making of sauces were a constant source of temptation, this was a devil of a different kind. "Rayanne, you can't. That's Mr. Chase's business. You can't. Are you listening?"

"Yeah." She sounded far away.

"Graf, seriously, this is bad. You can't drink in his restaurant. He could get in big trouble."

"I know. I know."

"Go outside, take a walk or something." Brian wracks his brain, trying to find a solution to this problem, but quickly realizes that he has no Plan B. The is no contingency plan for if/when Rayanne falls off the wagon. He berates himself internally for ever taking this on and especially for not doing more.

"Tried that."

"Then tell them you're not feeling well and get out of there." He suggests.

"Can't. Dinner starts in a few and we're overbooked. He needs me."

"But if you stay…"

Brian is met with silence.

"Rayanne?" By now, Brian has forgotten that Amy is in the living room and can likely hear him yelling into the phone as he continues to yell Rayanne's name.

"Okay, I'm good." She finally responds. "Talk to you later. Better get back to your documentary. Wouldn't want to miss any ground breaking information."

Hearing the click on the other end, he stands there dumbfounded looking at the phone in his hand, when Amy enters the kitchen.

"I thought you were on the phone with Jade. Who is Jade anyway? And why were you yelling 'Rayanne' into the phone?" She stood in the doorway with her arms folded across her chest and her head tilted to one side awaiting a response.

"Um, I uh, there was noise in the background. I couldn't, um I couldn't hear her. She was…looking for Angela and Rickie. I think she may have been drunk. Um, that's why she called herself Jade, I guess." He couldn't tell if she was buying it and he felt like dirt for saying that Rayanne may have been drunk, knowing full well how she'd been struggling to stay sober.

"Uh-huh, she was drunk. Well, that does sound like Graf, but what I don't get is why is she calling you to find Angela?"

Of all the girls I have to get involved with, I pick the one with a140 IQ and super sleuth skills. Just great.

"and Rickie." He quickly added. "She was looking for Angela and Rickie. I guess they stood her up or something."

"And why wouldn't she just call Angela's house?" Amy inquired.

"She said she did. They weren't there. " Take that. I'm not exactly slow, myself.

"So, she just figured Angela would be here?" Amy had never given up on the idea that there had been or still was something between Brian and Angela. "This is the first place she thought to call?" She persisted.

"Amy, I cannot begin to tell you how Graf's whiskey-soaked brain works. I guess she figured that Rickie might stop by or something. We are friends, it's a perfectly plausible hypothesis."

"I suppose." She stood between him and the kitchen door studying him.

"Can we just go back to the video now? We still have MIT and Stanford to look over." Changing the subject worked most times, he hoped it would now.

"Fine." She relented and walked back through the kitchen door.

xXx

"I should go." Angela hops down off of the his lap. "Rickie's going to wonder where I am."

Jordan slowly and reluctantly gets up and begins the walk to his car. He won't tell her, but he's crushed that she won't be there for their set at Vertigo tonight. He can't remember the last time he played for an audience that she wasn't part of. Then there was the fact that she wouldn't be there afterwards. He still hadn't returned home. It was lonely and cold enough after she left him each night, but her being there had made his ordeal less of one, somehow. Tonight, without her there to distract him, it was going to be a long night.

They pulled up in front of Mr. Katimsky's building, but neither of them was ready to say goodbye. After pulling out of a long, lingering kiss, he rested his forehead against hers.

"Go." He whispered in a somewhat strangled voice, one she'd only recently come to recognize as the one that was loaded with emotions he wasn't equipped to express; words he didn't allow himself to say.

"Ok." She knew he didn't want to leave her and she felt the same way, but they had other commitments, other responsibilities.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow?" He asked as he watched her exit the car and walk around to the curb.

"Yeah, but not here. Pick me up at home around noon. I don't want my parents thinking I was with you instead of Rickie." She answered leaning into his window.

"Smart girl."

She giggled and gave him a peck on the lips.

"And that's why you love me."

The words had left her mouth before her brain could properly process them and now they hung in the air between them. It had become some sort of unspoken rule that the L-word was not to be used frivolously. She knew it was something that really bothered him from watching his reactions to Paul and Kimmie, who said it the way most people said "and" or "the." Even though they'd only actually spoken the word once, they said it daily in a thousand other ways and that had been enough for the both of them. She felt like she had crossed a line.

"I'll see you tomorrow…" He replied and with that, he was on his way.

xXx

"What is wrong with you?" Amy barked at a fidgety Brian. "It was your suggestion to watch these together. If you didn't want to hang out, no one was forcing you to."

"I did, I mean, I do…want to hang out. It's just that. I'm just…hungry. Are you hungry?" Brian gets up off the couch. "Would you like to…get something to eat?"

"What?"

"You know, like outside. What I'm trying to say is, would like to go to dinner with me?" Brian runs his hand through his hair.

Amy is caught completely by surprise.

"I was thinking we could go to Saffron. I mean, I know the owner and we could probably get a table."

"You want to take me to dinner?" Amy asked.

"Well, yeah."

"I guess I could just run home and change really quickly." She thought out loud.

Brain heads toward the stairs. "I'll be right back."

He returns in a pair of khakis and has thrown a jacket over the shirt he was wearing.

"We better get going. It can get pretty crowded."

Amy gathers her things and walks towards the front door, stopping short; she turns towards around and kisses him deeply.

Confused, Brian asks, "What was that for?"

"For being the sweetest boyfriend ever."

It's official. I am lower than dirt.

xXx

"A ho! My dad's being taken over by a ho!"

Angela and Rickie are doubled over in laughter watching Sleepless in Seattle.

"That's my favorite line." Rickie could hardly form words.

"Mine too."

"I'm really glad we did this." Rickie said, "I know you had plans."

"No, it's fine, really. " Angela hesitates before continuing. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I know the whole Aaron thing is messed up, but are you ever going to come to the loft again?" She sneaks a glance at him.

Rickie sighs and picks at the nachos they'd made earlier.

"It's just hard, ya know? I mean, we're never going to be together. I get that, but it doesn't stop me from wanting to be with him."

Angela knows this feeling better than he could imagine. Just a little more six months earlier, she had thought the same thing after she and Jordan had broken up. Her feelings for him had not changed in the least even though their brief relationship had officially ended.

"I just miss having you there. I don't know if I can spend another afternoon listening to Kimmie and her frighteningly detailed accounts of her sex life with Paul." Angela rolls her eyes and Rickie laughs. "I'm telling you, the girl has no shame."

Rickie sighs.

"I'm sorry Angela, I just can't. Not yet. I really wanted to go to their show tonight, but I just kept thinking about after. He always takes me home and…"

"I know. I'm sorry, I actually do know how you feel. Seeing him and not being able to be with him. It's torture. I'm being selfish. Forget that I brought it up."

"It's okay. I just have to get over it, I guess. Give me some time. " Rickie hesitates for a moment. "So…does he ever…ask about me?" He casts a cautious gaze in her direction.

Angela shakes her head.

"But when I walk in, he always seems to be looking just past me, like he's expecting someone. Have you talked to him?"

"No. He called a few times right after that night, but I wouldn't take his calls and then…he stopped calling." Angela can hear the emotion just behind his words and thinks herself the worst friend in the world.

"I'm sorry I brought it up. We're supposed to be enjoying ourselves." She tried to lighten the mood. "When are your folks back?"

"They'll be gone for most of the week. They're weren't exactly sure. Jonathan wanted to take me with them, but Mr. Katimsky thought it would draw too much attention for both of us to be absent from school at the same time. Besides, it's not a vacation; it's their best friend's funeral, not exactly festive. I'm happy to house sit for them instead. I kind of like being here alone. I've never been on my own like that before. " He stood and extended his hand or her cup. "I'm going to get some more soda, want some?"

"Thanks." She handed him her cup. "I'll rewind the movie. We missed like, half of it." She chuckled.

xXx

"I'm sorry, we're at capacity for this evening. Could I make you a reservation for another night?" A somewhat overwrought Hallie reported.

"What about take-out? We could get something to go." Seeing Amy's face fall, he tries again. "We're willing to wait. Can't you find a small table for two?"

"Like I said…" Hallie began.

"Hey, Brian!" Graham, who had been chatting with customers at a nearby table, was drawn to the familiar voice. "I didn't expect to see you here. What can we do for you?"

"Oh, hi, Mr. Chase. We just thought we would stop by for dinner, but it looks like you're pretty busy, so we'll just go."

"Don't be ridiculous. Let me see that book." Graham nudges Hallie, who is more than a little miffed.

"Graham, we're booked."

"Just give me a minute." Graham studies the page.

Hallie huffs and rolls her eyes.

"Look, we have a 30 minute gap on Table 6." He points to the entry.

"That's not a gap, that an intentional break. We're running at full capacity and we're going to need a minute to recoup. Who's going to serve them? We are obligated to give the servers a break. And if they're not done in 30, where do you plan on putting the customers with actual reservations?"

"We can be done in 30. I mean, we won't be here very long." Brian interjects. Amy tightens her grip on his arm as if to offer her support.

"Then it's settled. Come on, Brian." Graham slaps Brian on the shoulder.

Graham seats them at the table closest to the kitchen.

"Sorry it's so close to the kitchen, but it's the only one available."

"It's fine. We're just happy to have a table at all. Thanks Mr. Chase." Brian replies.

"I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Graham." Turning to Amy with a warm smile.

"Hi, I'm Amy. This is a beautiful restaurant."

"Thank you. Keeps us busy."

Hallie appears behind him, menus in hand.

"Apparently not busy enough." She says bitingly.

"Hallie," Graham, murmurs. "Can we not do this now?"

"What do you mean? You've seated them. They're seated. I hope you plan on serving them too." She says in exasperation.

Graham smiles at the young couple.

"Can I see you in the office for a moment?" Graham asks through clenched teeth.

"No, actually you can't, since I'm covering the door and look, there are the customers who actually reserved a table." She looks at him pointedly. "Would it be too much to ask you to check on the kitchen and make sure the line is running?"

Brian can see the color rising in Graham's face.

"You guys enjoy yourselves. Dessert's on the house." He says as he turns to leave.

Hallie's mouth drops open and she storms off toward the front door.

"Whoa! That was intense." Amy remarks.

"Yeah."

"Guess it's a Chase thing." Amy comments.

Brian pretends to peruse the menu while trying to figure out how he's going to get to the kitchen and check on Rayanne. He figures nothing has happened yet, since the only problem he can see seems to be the one between Graham and Hallie. Adding to his problem is the fact that Amy is facing the kitchen, so that even if he manages to sneak back there without the staff seeing him, she surely will.

"Do you know what you want?" Amy's voice brings him out of his head.

"Um, no, not really."

"I can't decide between the paella and the penne."

Brian looks at the menu and realizes that most of what's on it will either land him in the hospital or cause him digestive misery for the next few days.

Shellfish, dairy, gluten…I guess the salad is safe.

"I think I'm going to have a salad."

"I thought you were hungry?"

"I am. I meant I'll have the chicken and a salad."

Amy has gone back to studying the menu, meanwhile Brian wonders if there is a way for him to slip out the front, around back, and in through the back door. If he excuses himself to the rest room, it might buy him enough time.

"Well, I'm going to have the penne alla vodka." Amy slides her chair back from the table. "I'm just going to go wash my hands, I'll be right back."

And just like that, the way was made clear. As soon as Amy was out of sight, he dashed back towards the kitchen and spotted Rayanne.

"Rayanne!" He whisper-shouts urgently.

Rayanne looks up and is genuinely shocked.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you."

"Aww. I feel special." She bats her eyes at him.

Brian shifts his gaze from Rayanne to his table. "So, you're here with what's-her-face?"

"Amy."

"Right. Huh, you're a good man, Charlie Brown. " She punches him in the arm.

Brian rolls his eyes.

"I just wanted to make sure you didn't do something stupid."

"I can see that. What's this little field trip costing you anyway, $40-$50?"

Brian's face went blank. He hadn't even considered the cost.

"You can always stay behind and wash dishes. Jorge could use the extra help." She laughed. "I gotta get back. Lots of plates to finish. Thanks for checking on me though. Bon Appétit!"

Brian rushes back to the table and checks his wallet. Fifty dollars. He quickly tabulates the bill in his head. Even with free dessert, I'm looking at $35, plus the tip.

Seeing Amy returning from the rest room, he tries to pull himself together. His nerves are frayed and his stomach is upset. How do I manage to do these things? I'm living a double life, like double-0-nerd or something. It's not nearly as exciting as it looks in the movies.

"This was really a great idea Brian. I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier, I just." She blushed. "I get so jealous sometimes."

Huh?

"I can't help it." Amy bats her eyes at him. He could feel her foot traveling up his leg, causing him to swallow hard.

"It's, it's o-okay. I mean, I understand." Truly, I do NOT understand, but who am I to argue with her?

xXx

"Dude, what was wrong with you tonight?" Paul asks, as he and Aaron unload the larger equipment onto the curb in front of the loft.

"What do you mean? We did fine. The crowd loved it." Jordan responds.

"That wasn't the set we practiced." Paul says accusingly.

Jordan winds a cord around his hand. "So? It was good, right."

"It was f*ckin' depressing." Paul barks.

"Whatever. We can't play the same stuff all the time." Jordan tosses the wound cord onto the pile of equipment sitting on the curb.

"Would you two quit?" Shane interjects. "I am personally grateful for your less than festive mood, my friend. It's like a passport to Pussyland. The ladies are totally feeling the sensitivity and a bunch of them should be pulling up any minute for our 'afterparty.'" He adds wiggling his eyebrows.

"Afterparty? What are you talkin' about?" Jordan asks, eyebrows knitted together.

"If you didn't have your head up Angela's ass all the time, you would know that we do this after every gig." Paul interjected.

"F*ck you. " Jordan replied "So, I guess that's why you and Kimmie break up every Friday." Jordan shakes his head before turning to Shane again. "Since when?"

"I dunno." Shane shrugged. "Awhile. I figured why let it go to waste. You weren't gonna indulge and the chicks get so worked up over the goo goo eyes you make at the audience, which is really just Angela, but they don't know that. You know, I can't believe I didn't thank you before now." Shane pats Jordan on the back. "Thanks, Man."

"Whatever, just don't trash the place."

Shane lifts and eyebrow before responding.

"Don't get all pissy because you can't stay. You didn't even know we had these parties, so obviously, we haven't been trashing the place. "

"I thought we said we were gonna be careful about who we brought up here." Jordan reminded him.

"Would you stop worrying, Grandma. Tino always comes and if he's here, we can't be blamed for anything. Come on, Man, act like you know me. I got it covered."

Jordan just huffs at him while pulling an amp out of his trunk.

"Why don't you take off? The rest of the guys'll be here soon. We'll get the rest." Shane gestures at the growing pile of musical equipment.

"I'm good." Jordan mumbles.

"Dude, I'm telling you to go hang out with your girl. I got this."

"She's at Rickie's." Aaron listened intently, hoping to hear something more, but as usual there was nothing. He would finish getting the equipment inside and make some excuse to leave.

"She's at Rickie's" Paul mocked, causing Jordan to throw a wound up amp cord at him.

"Makes sense now, the pissy mood and all. Well, come up and get ripped then. You got nowhere to be, might as well be here."

Jordan hesitates but realizes, he actually doesn't have anywhere to be. He can't go home and since there had been a small oil fire at the garage that day, which left smoke and fumes in the air, he couldn't go there. His plan had been to crash at the loft anyway. A couple of beers would only help him get to sleep faster, so he figured, 'why not?'

xXx

"I just love Meg Ryan." Rickie says as he hits the rewind button on the VCR.

"I know. Which one do you like her better in Sleepless or this one."

"When Harry Met Sally, hands down. She's like, this regular person, and it's like, a regular story. Sleepless is great, but how often does that happen?"

"But isn't that the point, Rickie. It's like, this amazing, romantic thing that you think can't happen, only it does and to you." She gushes.

Rickie laughs.

"Well, Mrs. Catalano, I can see why you would relate."

Angela blushes.

"For the rest of us though, it's just not going to be that fairytale, you know? I mean, I'm pretty sure it won't be that way for me."

"You don't know that. Look at me. Tell the truth, when Rayanne started trying to put Jordan and me together, did you ever really believe, that he'd notice me?"

Rickie hesitates.

"I know you don't see it, Angela, but you're beautiful. He was bound to notice you. Rayanne just like, sped up the process or something."

"You are so sweet. See, that right there is why some guy is going to sweep you off your feet." She hugs him. "Rickie, you are beautiful. Inside and out. Seriously, forget the clothes and the hair. You are a beautiful man and some guy is going to be head over heels for you one of these days. You'll see."

"We'll see." A less than confident Rickie replied.