Thanks a million to Edy who thoroughly saved this chapter. : )

Chapter 4:

Michael kicked the door of his apartment shut, struggling to balance the huge, heavy box in his arms. He dropped the box on the floor, not really caring if there was anything breakable or not in there anymore.

He leaned heavily against the door, trying to catch his breath. He and Eric had spent the entire day moving boxes and furniture into his new apartment. Michael's apartment was on the twelfth floor; he thanked God that the building had a good, working elevator.

Michael wiped the sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. Eric had disappeared earlier, leaving Michael to carry up the last box by himself.

Noise from the living room drifted into the hallway. Michael followed it and found Eric on his newly bought couch, beer in hand, watching ESPN on his widescreen TV. The place looked like a hurricane just passed through it, with boxes piled up everywhere. Some were even open with foam and plastic spilling over. Nonetheless, Eric had wasted no time setting up the TV and cable. The man had his priorities.

"Who's playing?" Michael asked as he sat down beside Eric.

"Replay of last night," Eric passed him a beer.

Michael looked at the screen and winced. The Kings had lost to the Islanders last night. He wasn't looking forward to watching his favorite hockey team get clobbered all over again.

"Do we have to watch this again? What's on ESPN2?"

"Golf."

Michael made a face and took a swig of his beer.

"This place is a mess," Eric said, stating the obvious.

"Ella's coming over tomorrow to help me unpack."

"Woman's touch," Eric nodded knowingly.

"Lord knows the pigsty you call a home could use a woman's touch," Michael laughed.

"Yeah, yeah," Eric rolled his eyes. "Let's not talk about my sorry love life, let's talk about yours."

"What love life?" Michael asked.

"Exactly," Eric nodded. "That's what worries me. You've been back in LA for over two weeks and you're still girlfriend-less. Word has it that the girlfriends in France were few and far between. Losing your touch with the ladies, Vaughn?"

It was true that he hadn't had that many girlfriends when he was in France­­-­he could count only two serious relationships and a handful of casual dates. It was nothing compared to when he was in college.

Michael couldn't quite explain this, even to himself. All he knew was that something inside him had changed. He thought carefully before answering. "I've changed. I'm tired of having a string of meaningless relationships. I want something serious, long-lasting."

Eric looked at him like he'd grown two heads. And then he laughed. "Okay, okay, I get it. This is a joke, right? What chick flick did Ella make you watch this time?"

Michael considered playing along, laughing it off and pretending it was all a joke. But the more he thought about it, the harder it became to deny that it was true. Michael did have a reputation for being a lady's man back in college…but he wasn't in college anymore. He was getting tired of playing the field. He had the feeling that he knew what, or rather who, was the catalyst for this change. But he wasn't ready to confront it just yet.

Michael's silence was a little too long for Eric's comfort. He turned to face Michael completely. "Man, you've got to be kidding me. What happened to your…, what did Aunt Trish call it? Ah yes, the patented Vaughn charm. You've always used it to your advantage and, I cannot for the life of me figure out how, but its always worked. "

"Things are different now," Michael said softly.

Eric studied him carefully for a few seconds, and then he just shrugged and downed the rest of his beer.

Michael wondered if he should tell Eric the truth. He was tired of keeping this inside, he needed to get it out in the open. Get another person's perspective.

"I think I'm in love," Michael blurted out. Okay, so he hadn't been meaning to say exactly that. One glance at Eric, and he knew he couldn't take it back. Maybe he didn't even want to.

Eric paused, his new beer bottle halfway to his mouth. "See! I knew you met someone!"

"Well, not really met. We just got reacquainted."

"I bet you did," Eric muttered, a sly smile creeping onto his face.

Michael hit him on the shoulder. "It's not like that, Eric."

"Who is she?"

"Sydney," Michael muttered.

"What? Mike-y, I can't heeeaar you."

"Sydney," Michael said, louder this time. So maybe he was ready to confront it after all.

Eric nearly choked on his beer. "Sydney Bristow?!"

Michael bowed his head. "Yeah."

"Sydney Bristow, as in your sister's best friend?"

"Yes."

"You're in love with your sister's best friend?"

"Yes. Yes! I'm in love with my sister's best friend!" Saying it out loud brought a strange sort of relief.

"You do know that­­-,"

"She has a boyfriend?" Michael cut him off. "Yeah, I'm aware of that."

Eric nodded solemnly.

They sat in silence for awhile. The Kings were still losing, but neither of them was watching the game anymore.

"She is hot though," Eric said.

"I swear to God, Eric, if you tell anyone about this…"

Eric put out his hands in front of him. "Relax, man. My lips are sealed."

"Do you think I stand a chance?" Michael asked casually.

"No chance in hell," Eric grinned.

Michael grinned back. This was a long running joke between the two of them. Every time Eric decreed it Michael always ended up with the girl in question.

He just prayed it would be no different this time.