13. Well he can't sleep at night/And he can't do what's right/It was all because/she came into his life/it's a deep obsession/taking up his time/She's all that he wants/she's all that he needs/She's everything he just won't believe/Take away his doubt/turn him inside out/Then she can see what he's been/dying to say/but things don't always turn out that way

Her apartment was small – he was only realising that now. Compact, with as little furniture as possible, the walls painted a dark beige. The floors didn't give much pacing space – he should know, he'd been walking up and down them for the past hour. It was approaching four in the morning now and she still wasn't back. He didn't want to worry about her; it made him sound too much like a protective father. And he was already playing that role enough tonight with Emily.

He had felt guilty about yelling at her before bed and later went down to check on her with a peace offering of some jelly and ice cream. The teenager seemed unperturbed by their earlier argument, accepting the food albeit a little unenthusiastically and muttering something about not being five years old anymore. But when he later returned the ice cream had gone and she was fast asleep in her bed. He felt an overwhelming sense of emotion watching Faith's daughter sleep, and for only a moment saw her as his own. He knew this was inappropriate as Emily would always be Fred and Faith's but of late he'd been doing a lot more with this troubled teen than Fred had done in his whole paternal existence.

He wrung his hands in front of him, his worry heightened by the fact she hadn't even called to tell him she'd be late. Faith would always call. Of course she had warned him she might be in at a slightly, only slightly, early hour but not to worry.

The apartment was decreasing in size or so he thought. Pacing up and down was becoming more and more of a habit, and looking at his watch even more so. He fought the urge to ring her cell – he then really would be acting like her father.

The sound of laughter in the hall broke the silence and he listened to the muffled noise of voices from behind the door. They were talking quietly, and then there was suddenly complete silence. Then more talking and finally he heard her say goodbye. He was going to kill her. He stormed towards the door, flinging it open with rage and anger.

She stood there her key poised where the lock had been, blinking furiously. It almost seemed to him that she was confused as to where it had disappeared to. Still blinking she looked up and smiled.

"Bosco!" she cried, stumbling across the threshold, "Hey Bosco!"

"Are you drunk Faith?" he asked watching as she tripped over her own feet. Looking insulted, she straightened up, frowning at her friend.

"I'll have you know Mr Bosco-mor-elli…I…do not get drunk!" she announced, placing her hands on her hips. Teetering a little from side to side, she tried to glare at him, but because her eyes either kept rolling in different directions or just shut completely, it didn't quite have the knock on effect she wanted it to. She then giggled as she lost her balance and had to regain some composure. He was horrified. What state had Gerard gotten her into, and more importantly, what the hell did he do to her?

Suddenly she was calling him over, mouthing his name while gesturing with her index finger. He rolled his eyes as she stumbled forward and leaned on him. "I do however happen to be a teeny bit tipsy!" she conceded, giggling.

"Ok," he replied, trying to hide the smile that was forming.

"Keith ordered Martini's and they were kinda fruitilly," she said, stopping to laugh at the way she mangled the last word.

"You shouldn't have let him talk you into drinking," Bosco sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. In a swing of moods he saw anger and frustration in her face.

"Hey! I did not let him talk me into anything!" she cried, her hands flying into the air, "How was I supposed to know…"

Suddenly she lost her delicate balance tumbling backwards towards the floor. He reached out to catch her but she placed one hand up, warding him off. "I got it," she assured him, running a hand across her sweating forehead. They stood for several seconds as she tried to calm her dizzy head. He turned his head away, taking a slow breath

"I don't got it!" she laughed, falling onto the floor. He tried to catch her but it was too late. She hit the ground with a thud, her back sliding down the wall. She didn't seem hurt though. She laughed manically at her own silliness, and he too grinned. "Did you see me? I was like a bungee jumper!"

"Come on Faith," he said, chuckling softly, "Lets get you into bed."

She giggled as he pulled her up off the ground, her feet leaving the floor for one tenth of a second. "Oh Bosco! I never knew!"

He nodded with her as she grasped his neck, his arm supporting her at her waist. Suddenly Emily emerged from her room, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "Bosco…" she mumbled, her voice hoarse from sleep.

"It's alright Em, go back to bed," he instructed her, struggling to hold up Faith's weight. Her eyes opened wide and she grinned realising her mother's inebriated state.

"Is mom drunk?" she asked, incredulous. Bosco threw her a withering glance and she laughed into her hand. "Do you need some help?"

"I got it," he replied, distracted by the way Faith trailed her index finger across his collarbone. She nodded, trying to disguise her smile as she turned and headed back to her room.

"Night Em!" Faith called out. Her daughter merely held up her hand in a wave like gesture as she disappeared into her bedroom. In another change of mood, Faith blinked back tears that were forming in her wide blue eyes. "She's a good kid. I know she occasionally takes drugs and gets involved with the wrong boys but she's got a good heart."

"Ok, time for your bed," he said again steering her towards her bedroom.

"But I'm not sleepy," she moaned, her head resting on his shoulder. He guided her down the hall, trying to ignore the hand that had snaked downward to his belt.

"I really liked Keith, he was nice," she informed him, yawning. He gulped forcing a smile.

"Good."

"You're my bestest friend Bos," she announced proudly.

"You're my best friend Faith."

"I love you."

"I love you too Faith."

"Plus I want you to know that whatever I did or said this morning wasn't 'cause I was jealous…I thought I was…and then I realised, I'm just being protective ya know?"

He looked down at her smiling face. "Yeah. I know."

"Thank you for being there," she whispered.

"I always will be."

Suddenly she turned to him, clinging to the front of his grey t-shirt. "I used to really fancy you ya know?"

Startled, he stumbled to a halt nearly sending them both crashing to the floor.

"What?"

"Yeah! Back in the Academy, you were sooo hot!" she informed him, blinking like an owl. She sounded a bit like Emily. Alcohol had obviously taken a few years off her maturity. "And then you became my best friend…I mean how cool is that? I finally have someone that I can just be myself around and he doesn't care! I'm so glad we never did anything Bosco. Truly I am."

He fought for breath, her face just inches from his. Her own breath smelt of a combination of whiskey, vodka and martini's. And with that last sentence she gracefully passed out in his arms, her head hanging backwards. He sighed, pulling her back up and trailing her into her bedroom.

He plonked her down on her mattress and she somehow wiggled her way up to the pillows smiling contently.

He rubbed his eyes, his fatigue finally getting the better of him.

"I'm too hot!" she moaned sleepily, tugging at her restrictive jacket. He sat beside her on the bed and began undoing the buttons of her dress jacket. He then pulled her up into a sitting position. She was now very much asleep, her head falling forward, resting heavily on his shoulder. He slid it off her arms detangling it from her waist and throwing it onto the floor.

Deciding it was probably best if he didn't take off her dress, he instead undid the zip, so if she wanted to wriggle out of it later she could. The straps of her black bra came into view and he struggled to look anywhere but her bare back.

He then, very gently leaned her backwards, cradling her head as he positioned her on top of her pillows. She let out a relieved sigh and he pulled the covers around her body, tucking them in at the sides. Both his hands rested on either side of her comatose body, and for one ridiculous second he leaned down to kiss her forehead. He stopped abruptly, reconsidering, his lips hovering above her sweaty skin.

It was a silly notion, made even worse by the recognition of wanting to kiss her. He shook it off and clambered to his feet, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets.

"Night Yokas," he whispered, scratching the back of his head as he made his way to the sofa, deciding it would be better to crash there tonight instead of endangering himself by driving when he was this exhausted.

He flopped down the piece of furniture, supporting the back of his head with his hands. His tiredness however was not enough to get him to sleep and he lay awake most of the night, listening out for any movement from his intoxicated best friend.