Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own Cabaret or Sally Bowles or anything related. If I did, I would do a dance.

Dedication: Bianca Marina, thanks for everything…hope you don't have consumption hehe…you just called me your groovy alcoholic suicidal sister—of which I am none. This one's for you, Miss B…Love from Liza May.

And now……my story………::dramatic music::

Opening one sleepy eye, Sally Bowles surveyed her surroundings. Lavish room, picture window with the sun shining in, canopy bed with all the trimmings. Not half bad, she observed. The man asleep next to her was not half bad either. He was handsome enough, charming enough, and Lord knew he was rich enough. Sally thought for a minute. She could stay and be there when he woke up, or she could dress quickly and leave quietly, without him ever knowing where she had gone or how to contact her. She opted for the latter, figuring he probably would not have even remembered her name given the chance. She usually did not stick around anyway. On the other hand, her head was already throbbing, and she would have liked nothing more than to just lie there and sleep for hours. But she could do that at home, even though her bed was not nearly as comfortable as this one. She got up and dressed quietly, taking care not to wake him, and then slipped casually out the door.

Once she got home, she poured herself a glass of gin and collapsed onto her bed. Her head still pounded and she realized she never felt very well anymore. Ever since…well, she knew since when. The combination of working late nights at the Club, not getting enough sleep and, she figured, drinking too much, was finally catching up with her. Oh, well. Not like she really had anything to live for anyway. She took another sip and thought about just drinking and drinking and drinking and drinking until she had drunk herself to death, but decided against it.

Sally glanced at the clock—ten in the morning. She did not have to be at the Club until seven, so she figured she could sleep for a while and maybe she would feel a little better. She poured herself another glass of gin and settled back against the pillows.

*****

The Kit Kat Club was fairly full that night, which for Sally only meant that there were more men to pester her. Still, she kept her smile plastered on and kept flirting—after all, there was always the possibility that one of these guys could be a producer or a director or someone important who could give her career a boost. Tonight, one man in particular had caught her attention during her performance. He had been sitting alone, sipping champagne, watching her intently. He was quite handsome and certainly looked important. She had made a mental note to talk to him after she got offstage, but the Club was so busy that she had not yet made it over to his table. Drunk men were hounding her from all directions, and finally she excused herself and made her way to the restroom, intending to splash some water on her face to wake herself up a little bit. As she slipped into the narrow hallway that led to the restroom, she felt someone grab her wrist. She turned around with the intention of just casually brushing them off, but was surprised to see the face of the man whom she had noticed from the stage.

"Sally Bowles?"

She nodded. "Do I—"

He smiled. "No, you don't know me. My name is Jonathan Whitaker. I'm a friend of Brian Roberts."

Sally gasped audibly, unable to hide her surprise. "You…you know Brian?"

"He's one of my closest friends. We went to school together…" He was still speaking, but Sally could no longer hear him. Her heart was racing and so was her mind. Brian. The handsome champagne-sipping man she had been keeping her eye on all evening knew Brian.

"Let's sit down; it's easier to talk that way," he suggested. Still holding her hand—he had been the whole time—he led her back to his table. "Champagne?"

She smiled a little. "Of course."

He ordered a new bottle and when it arrived, poured them each a glass. He kept watching her as she drank, and they sat in silence for a few minutes; him watching and her pretending not to notice. Finally, she met his gaze. "How did you find me? And why?"

"I'm here on business. Brian told me I might enjoy your club and your company. You don't mind, do you?"

"Oh, no, darling, it's just…well, Brian and I…" She was nervously stirring her drink with her finger, not even realizing it.

"I know."

She looked up, startled. "What?"

"Sally, I know. Brian told me everything. If you—"

"I—I should go," she said, cutting him off. She stood up and started to leave, but Jonathan caught her arm.

"Sally, please. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that I've heard a lot about you and it's nice to put a face with the name." He smiled, and she couldn't help but smile back. His smile was so gorgeous, she thought, and his eyes…no, she couldn't do this again; yet she found herself apologizing and sitting down to have another glass of champagne. They made small talk for a while, avoiding the mention of Brian's name or anything that might allude to him in any way, shape, or form. Sally studied Jonathan while they spoke. Something about his eyes captivated her; they were blue, but not normal eye-color blue, more like aquamarine. Vibrant and expressive, with just a hint of green. He had a beautiful smile and a great laugh. But she could not, absolutely would not, fall in love again with anyone the way she had fallen for Brian. It hurt too much.

Jonathan glanced down at his watch. "It's getting late. May I walk you home?"

Damn it, Sally thought, why does he have to be so polite and charming?

Outside, it was freezing cold and snowing, of all things. Without hesitation, Jonathan took off his coat and draped it over Sally's shoulders. "Oh," she said, "You didn't have to—"

He grinned at her. "It's no trouble."

"I know. Well, I don't mean I know, I just mean…"

Jonathan laughed a little and said, "I know what you mean. I just don't want you to catch your death out here in the cold."

"I'm fine. But…thank you." Just my luck, she thought, I probably would catch my death in the cold. She felt the outside of the coat he had put on her…camel hair. God, he must be rich.

They walked in silence for a bit, and it occurred to Sally that Jonathan had not asked why she was not wearing a coat in the first place. Brian had probably told him about that, too. A chill ran through her and she shivered involuntarily, and then felt Jonathan's arm slide around her shoulders. Suddenly, she felt safe, like nothing could harm her because he was there and he would protect her. Without thinking or really even being aware that she was doing it, Sally reached over and took his other hand in hers.