A stomach full of vodka did bad things to your mind. It did even weirder things to your eyes. The man sitting at the end of the bar was beginning to realize that maybe he was falling victim to the latter when he saw the woman walk in the door. The bell hanging over the door jam gave a faint tinkle, and she glanced around nervously, her eyes darting from side to side. He sat up straighter on the stool, swerving a bit and cursing angrily when he sloshed his drink over the side of the glass. He brushed at the stain on his shirt and lifted the glass to his mouth to finish off what was left of it. He brought the back of his hand across his mouth and licked off what had spilt as he watched the blonde walk across the bar.
She didn't seem to notice the eyes following her across the room. She backed away from the door slowly, glancing back at it as if she were afraid to leave her only link to the outside world. She was definitely out of place, he decided as he watched the nervous blonde edge her way towards the bar. Bosco gave her an appraising glance and felt that he knew her. She was slim, and, even from where he sat a good twenty feet away, he could tell she had bright blue eyes. She scanned the faces around her and saw him looking her way. He smiled at her, racking his brain to place her face. It was obvious by his silence when she shyly said hi that he had no idea who she was.
___ ___ ___
She spotted him amongst the other bodies stooped over their drinks at the bar, and with a nervous smile started towards him. She saw him smile faintly back and skim his eyes across her face. Was he so drunk he couldn't even remember her? She wasn't surprised she saw him here of all places. A bar to Bosco was a second home. She was more surprised at herself for even considering setting foot in here, taking into account her distaste for alcohol.
Break ups did weird things to your mind. One minute you could be completely grounded, married and a mother. There just is not much room left for any idle mischief. When a relationship dissolves, no, that all goes out the window. Suddenly you're transformed into this completely reckless, chance taking person who throws caution to the wind along with sanity. Or, if you were like her, you would simply set a match to everything he'd ever given to you and let your friends take over your social life. That is, involve yourself with things you'd never consider before, like thongs and strip clubs and curling irons. Or in this case, bar hopping.
Faith was skeptical at first as she watched her friends enter bar after bar and encourage her to tag along. They insisted and she relented. At first that was all she did, but she decided to be bold and venture out on her own and meet new people. She was an eternal optimist, even though she knew that would land her in a very sorry way one day. Luckily, one of those new people turned out to be a familiar face, and was almost relieved to see him. She hadn't talked to him since she left the force five years ago. When she returned after her almost fatal accident, things had changed. People walked on eggshells around her. The one person she had wanted to see the most had been the complete opposite. He had ignored her. So she quit. She had gone back to college and studied to become a teacher. Fred had been happy at first to have her back at home, but he slowly started to realize that she was a different woman. He played around behind her back, and she lost him. He was the final tie to her old life. So what if this time around it wasn't as fast paced as before, it was still hers to make.
She smiled at him again as she got closer, and he let his glass come down on the counter with a thud. He looked her up once again, and she could tell by his slight weaving that he had already drank himself into the first stage of an alcoholic haze. He reached out a hand to shake hers, but decided halfway through that he didn't want to and held it instead. He had finally remembered where he had last seen her, "Hi, Faith" It was more a question than a statement.
She looked down at their hands and felt her stomach flip. She looked back up into his eyes, slightly out of focus but still dark and guarded. She used to always know what he was thinking, but she was never too sure outside of work. With Bos, what was personal stayed personal. He glanced down at their hands, finding something funny there and smirked. Her stomach flipped again and she sighed to herself at its stupidity. He took that sigh as one of impatience and dropped her hand. He patted the stool beside him and lifted his glass. He started to take a sip when he realized it was empty and raised it in silent request to the bar tender for another. As an after thought, he said "And a beer for the lady please," when the bar tender slid his drink down the counter.
He picked up his new shot and downed it in a gulp. He grimaced at the bite, and watched the woman eye her drink with some unease. She raised it to her lips and made a face at the sour taste. She toyed with the bottle, aware of his stare all the while. Finally, he broke the silence, "What are you doing here?" Since you're not a drinker, she assumed he meant. She was aware that she seemed lost here, was lost here. She simply smiled and raised the bottle to her lips again. It wasn't so bad the second time around. She caught him staring at her lips in fascination as she took a third sip and a fourth. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and pressed on, "Well?"
"Thought I'd try something new," she said. He looked unimpressed, and she added, "My friends told me about this place, and I was curious. Besides, I heard there were," she leaned in, obviously becoming bolder the more she nursed on that bottle, "men here. Cute men. What have you been up to since I've seen you last?"
"Might ask you the same thing," he said, ordering another beer for her.
"Well, reinventing myself I guess. I teach now. And Fred is gone. Caught him cheating on me, so I dumped him."
"Sorry to hear that," he commented dryly as he watched her lustily gulp down the second beer. She giggled, and he shook his head again, that wry smirk appearing once more. He leaned in too and answered, "You're not much of a drinker, two beers already have you on your ass."
"Sure I am," she pouted, adjusting the neck of her sweater, "It's hot in here isn't it?" She stood to adjust her skirt when she stumbled and fell into his chest. He caught her around the arms and hauled her up. Her face came up to meet his and she whispered, "Opps, hehe."
"Bed time for you bippy," he said, easing her back onto her stool and putting money down on the counter. He asked the bar tender to call a cab and towed her outside to wait. It arrived, and he placed her in the back with him, giving the driver an address and telling him to step on it. She curled up next to him, throwing her arm over his neck and kissing the side of his face. He smiled, wondering how shocked she'd be if she were in the right mind to know what she was doing. He didn't encourage her, but he didn't stop her either.
The ride lasted twenty minutes, and by then she had grown sedate again. She stumbled out of the taxi, sitting on the stoop of the small brownstone apartment while he paid the driver. She smiled at him and raised her arms.
"Don't want to walk?" he asked. She shook her head no, and he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his second floor apartment. She leaned against the wall while he fumbled with the lock and kicked the door before it finally opened. He pointed the way to the couch while he disappeared into the kitchen. She slumped down and started to nod off when he came back into the room with two cups of steaming coffee. She was about to decline when he shoved the cup into her hand, placing the other on end table behind her.
She took a sip and closed her eyes, feeling her momentary absence of sobriety slip away. She started to thank him when she felt his hands easing her shoes off. She opened her mouth to ask him what he was doing when he interrupted, "Are you done with that?" She glanced at her coffee and nodded yes. He scooped her up again and started down the hallway towards what she assumed was his bedroom. Now she knew why he was being so nice, like every other guy he was going to use and lose her. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from him. He stopped in front of a door and she chanced a peek at him. He toed the door open and flicked on the light. She was surprised to see a tub and toilet in front of her. She turned back to him as he placed her on the floor.
"Think you can stand long enough to take a shower?" he asked.
"I think so," she answered, and watched him disappear down the hall again. She started struggling out of her sweater when she heard a knock at the door. He was standing there with a towel and a shirt, big enough that she presumed it was his. His face was averted since she had neglected to shut the door before. She took what he offered and closed the door after him. She took a quick shower and, wrapped in his shirt, padded down the hall in search of him.
She found him sitting at the couch, not really seeing but watching a basketball game on the TV. He heard her approach and made a space for her on the couch. She sat next to him and for a while they remained in silence. She took the time to study his face. He hadn't changed much in the years since she last saw him, same obstinate jaw yet soft look that had always fascinated her. Same gray blue eyes under shamelessly long lashes, and a mouth that she had seen so many fawning women drool over. He turned to her, feeling her gaze and asked, "Feel better?" She nodded and he flipped the TV set off, "So tell me. What happened to get you to walk into that bar tonight?"
She considered lying, but she knew that if he was considerate enough to take care of her when he was obviously under the influence much more than she, that he could be trusted. He was the same Bos she had always confided in, despite what might have happened their last few weeks together. She didn't know what had happened to the man she knew then, but now he was showing her his old side once more. Faith wanted nothing more than to pick up where they had left off. She told him about Fred, how much of a liar and a cheat he was even after all those years together. He listened, not interrupting but silently agreeing. Somehow that idle explanation turned into her sobbing over how stupid she was to even think she had a chance with her ex to begin with. He pulled her to his side and let her cry until she was softened to hiccupping sniffs. She wiped her eyes, feeling stupid for making an ass of herself for a second in the same night. He offered his ideas on why her ex was useless, winning a soft chuckle from her, and a smile.
They talked for what seemed like hours. She talked of Emily's upcoming college graduation, and juggling Charlie between houses. He told her about Mickey's ever-constant battle with drugs, and his mother's latest boyfriend. They seemed to avoid talking about the last time they saw each other in some silent agreement. She started to feel her eyelids drooping, and the conversation started to dwindle. When she felt he was going to let her fall asleep, she shook herself awake and placed her hand on his to stall him, "Before you go, can I ask you a question?"
He smiled, "Why not?"
"What happened to us?" she hoped that didn't sound too direct, but then again they were sharing. He sighed, ran a hand over his head and stared off somewhere behind her.
"Once upon a time I did something stupid and got my partner shot. She deserved better and I wasn't it," was all he said. She could identify with his need for privacy, so she squeezed his hand in understanding and let him get up from the couch. He turned back towards his room, and when she didn't follow he came back and got her, "You sleep there tonight, I'll take the couch."
She knew there was no arguing with him, so she just gave in and started walking. She reached his room and flicked on the light. This wasn't right; she couldn't end the night like this. She walked back to the living room where he was throwing a blanket over the couch and hugged him. He stiffened in surprise but didn't say anything. She didn't look up, just kept hugging him, "Thank you, thank you for everything tonight."
He patted her hand and placed her away from him. He turned back to his task and she stood there, unsure of what to do. She started to back out of the room, her arms folded across her chest when she heard him call over his shoulder, "You should call me sometime. You know, in case we have something to talk about again." He glanced at her, and she returned his smile.
"G'night then, Bos," she offered and left.
"Night Faith," was the last thing she heard as she closed the door to his room.
___ ___ ___
"You're where?" she could almost hear the grin in her sister's voice. She rolled her eyes at her sister's shock and repeated herself, "I'm at Bosco's place."
"You're at Maurice's house?" the dry voice came over the receiver.
"You know who I mean," she answered, fixing the sheet over her legs.
"You've been at your old partner's house for the weekend? Well, I guess you don't need us to help you get over old-what's-his-name" the voice answered.
"It's not like that, Holly. Don't make it like that you miserable pervert," Faith answered.
"You would think with all that sex you wouldn't be so cranky. What's the matter, he's not into mid morning quickies?" Faith opened her mouth to refute that, but the voice cut in, "Well maybe he's too old for that, he's what, like forty now?"
"Thirty-four thanks," a masculine voice rumbled from the door. Faith jumped and covered the receiver, "How long have you been listening?" She hissed, ignoring the demands on the other line to tell her what was going on.
He smirked and yawned sleepily, "Long enough, and your sister is loud over the phone," he reached out, grabbed the receiver and calmly asked, "Holly, get off my phone I need to molest your sister."
"What the hell is goi-" came the shriek over the line as it was cut off.
Faith shook her head and stared at the phone in wry amusement, "You're going to pay for that later, she's going to call back fifty times before she gives up." He smirked and yanked the cord out of the wall and pulled her out of bed, "Or you could do that," she murmured as they walked to the kitchen.
"Breakfast?" he asked.
"Breakfast," she affirmed. New relationships weren't so far and few between after all.
