A/N: Just a reminder from the last chapter. In my experience, viewings are fairly social events. People come to pay respects to the family, but the mood is a lot less somber than it is at a funeral. There's a lot of mingling and talking, a lot of catching up. So, no one is being disrespectful here. It's just how things go, I guess. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate it.

Chapter Eighteen: You Slow It Down

Bender looked out over the crowded room, filled with flowers and people, and scanned the room. All around him, people were talking quietly, clumped in groups of two or three, sometimes more. The casket on the other side of the room was going all but unnoticed as the visitors mingled, catching up on new stories from old friends.

Bender jammed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and felt a pack of cigarettes brush against the back of his right hand. It was too early for a cigarette break, even though he was bored out of his fucking mind and wondering why he'd agreed to come to this damn thing in the first place. Claire had greeted him when he'd arrived, but had almost immediately been swept back into the crowd to speak with relatives and more important guests. Guests that wore button-down shirts and pants that weren't frayed or ripped at the knee.

Andy was somewhere in the crowd, too. Apparently one of his old wrestling buddies lived right down the street from Claire, and his family had come to the viewing to pay respects. Bender noted that Andy didn't seem very excited about the reunion with his old friend, as he stood there in the middle of the floor, hands stuffed into the pockets of his khaki pants, hardly saying anything.

The others weren't faring any better. Brian was talking with Claire's aunt, who had him backed into a corner talking about Harvard, and Allison was floating around, smelling the flowers, avoiding any human contact.

After a few minutes, Brian managed to untangle himself from the conversation and walked over to where Bender was standing. He ran a hand over the top of his close-cropped hair and sighed. "Wow, Claire's aunt really…she sure does like to talk."

Bender smirked. "I think I saw her slip something into your pocket. The key to her room, perhaps?"

Brian's eyes widened and he jammed his hands into his jacket pockets, rummaging around. Then he stopped and looked up at Bender, irritated. "Very funny."

Bender shrugged. "She's not a bad looking woman."

Brian sighed and stepped back so that he was standing right beside Bender, looking out over the crowd. After a moment, Brian said, "Do you ever wonder why Claire asked us? I mean, out of all the other people she knows?"

"No," Bender said shortly.

Brian glanced over at him surprised. "No because you know why, or no because you don't care?"

Bender didn't answer.

Before Brian could say anything else, the two of them were joined by Allison, who slid up beside Bender without saying anything. The three of them stood like that for a long time, watching Andy and Claire engage in awkward conversations with people that they pretended were their friends.

"Looks like some things never change," Bender muttered.

"…and so I told him. I said, 'Tom, this is a business, not a day care center. I have better things to do with my time than sit around and make sure that you're doing your job.' That shut him up, I'll tell you what."

Mr. Standish laughed heartily. "I'm sure it did."

Mr. Jamison, Mr. Standish's boss, shook his head, still smiling. "I tell you, Calvin. Those kids comin' out of business schools these days don't know what they're in for. Makes you wonder what they're teaching 'em at the universities."

Mr. Standish smiled and turned to Claire, who was standing beside him, trying not to look bored. "Well, you can ask my daughter if you want. She's graduating this May with a Business degree from the University of Illinois in Champaign-Urbana."

Mr. Jamison looked over at Claire and nodded his appreciation. "Oh, really? Congratulations. If you're anything like your father, I'm sure you'll be very successful."

Claire forced a smile, something she'd become very good at over the last three days. "Thank you."

Mr. Jamison smiled and turned back to Claire's father. "So, has Ted told you the news about the merger? Looks like Connelly isn't budging on this one…"

Claire sighed and turned away from her father, scanning the room for a glimpse of one of the others. She spotted Andy talking with Matt Laird and his parents, who still lived down the street from her parents' house. She couldn't locate any of the others.

"Claire, darling, your friend is such a doll."

Claire glanced up to see her aunt Irene standing next to her. "My friend?" she echoed.

Irene nodded. "I was just talking to him. Sweet boy. Is he an old boyfriend of yours?"

Claire's heart sped up a notch. "John?"

Irene frowned. "No, Brian. Who's John?"

Claire shook her head. "No one. Just…" She released a little breath. "No one."

Irene shrugged dismissively. "Well, he's such a nice boy. Very smart, too. He graduates from Harvard in December, you know."

Claire smiled. "I know."

"Wants to get his doctorate. You should snatch him up, darling. He'll be worth millions someday. The smart ones always are."

Claire couldn't decide whether she was embarrassed or amused. "Brian and I aren't really…it's not like that," she finished lamely.

"Why not? He's adorable."

Claire laughed. It was true; Brian was adorable. "He's not really my type," she explained.

Irene waved her off, obviously not convinced. She glanced over to her left, where Claire's father was standing not two feet away, still talking with Mr. Jamison. "You're not talking about business again, are you, Calvin?" she said loudly, butting into the conversation.

Claire's father stopped mid-sentence and turned to face his sister-in-law. Claire saw the anger in her father's eyes, but he hid his irritation with a tight smile. "Irene," he greeted her, nodding politely.

Irene smiled blandly, her eyebrow lifted expectantly.

Mr. Standish released a tiny sigh and turned back to Mr. Jamison. "Greg, this is Irene, my wife's sister. Irene, this is Greg Jamison. He's the vice president of finance at my company."

Mr. Jamison held out his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Irene shook his hand. "Likewise."

There was an awkward pause as the four of them stared back at one another, unsure of what to say next. In Claire's opinion, Irene seemed to be the only one that wasn't uncomfortable.

"Don't let me interrupt," Irene said finally.

Mr. Jamison shrugged. "We were just discussing some recent events at the office. I'm afraid it's not very interesting."

"But it must be," Irene countered, smiling sweetly. "Business seems to be all Calvin ever talks about…"

Mr. Jamison grinned at Claire's father. "Yeah, Calvin's a real go-getter."

"…even at his wife's viewing."

Claire swallowed deeply and glanced over at her father, who was watching Irene closely, his eyes clouded over with anger. "Irene…" he said pleasantly, warning her off.

Irene batted her eyes, feigning confusion. "Well, it's true, isn't it?"

Mr. Standish didn't respond, just kept the tight smile plastered onto his face. Mr. Jamison cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder.

"Wow, I'm really thirsty," Claire said brightly. "Do you want to go with me and get a glass of water, Irene?"

Irene stared back at Claire's father for a moment before she nodded. "A glass of water would be nice," she agreed distractedly.

Claire nodded and waited for Irene to move away from the two men. When she did, Claire starting leading them out of the room. Before she could get too far, Irene reached out and grabbed hold of Claire's forearm. "There he is."

Claire glanced up to see Brian, John and Allison standing in front of a large display of lilies. Allison was standing beside John, arms crossed over her chest, while Brian talked a mile a minute, using his hands to illustrate his point. John was staring straight ahead, nodding along with something that Brian was saying.

And then he spotted her. She could pinpoint the exact moment when it happened because something in his gaze shifted from boredom to…something else. Claire swallowed deeply, unable to tear her eyes away.

"Such a nice-looking boy, isn't he?" Irene asked.

Claire nodded. "Yes…yes, he is."

"So, what is Ohio like? Do you miss Illinois?"

Andy shrugged. "They're pretty much the same to me."

Mrs. Laird smiled warmly. "My brother lived in Columbus for a couple of years. He really liked it."

Andy nodded politely, but didn't say anything else. He hadn't seen the Lairds since the summer after he graduated, and as soon as Mrs. Laird spotted him, she ran up and gave him a big hug. This made Andy a little bit uncomfortable, but not really. Mrs. Laird was one of the wrestling moms, the kind that brought bottles of Gatorade to all the matches and told all of the boys--even the heavy ones--that they needed to eat more. Her son Matt was a good friend of Andy's who'd graduated with a full scholarship to Illinois State tucked under his wrestling belt.

"He said the winters are pretty rough, but they're probably not even as bad as Illinois winters."

Andy nodded. "It gets cold down there, but it's not too bad."

Mrs. Laird turned to her son, who was standing beside her, and hit him lightly in the chest. "This one here never stops complaining about the weather. I think he needs to move to Florida or Texas or something."

Matt grinned. "I won't say no to the beaches of Florida. The sun, the waves, the girls…"

Mrs. Laird hit him in the chest again, a little harder this time. "Matt!"

"What?" Matt asked, feigning innocence.

Mrs. Laird rolled her eyes and turned back to Andy. "So, are you planning on staying there when you graduate?"

Andy hesitated. "I don't know yet…I mean, I haven't decided."

She nodded. "Do you think you might want to move back to Illinois?"

Andy shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know." He paused, trying to think of something better to say. "I was actually thinking about moving to one of the big cities, like New York," he lied.

Matt grinned. "I never had you pegged for a city boy."

Andy shrugged sheepishly.

"What kind of job are you looking for?" asked Mrs. Laird.

Andy shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Here we go… "I don't know," he said for what had to be the millionth time. "Maybe something in…investments." Another lie.

Mrs. Laird nodded enthusiastically. "That's what Matt's going to do. He's been talking to one of the investment firms in Chicago, and they really want to hire him when he graduates."

Andy nodded and glanced over at Matt. "That's great," he told him, trying to sound excited.

Matt bobbed his head in agreement. "I think it's going to be exactly what I'm looking for."

"What companies have you been looking at?" Mrs. Laird asked Andy.

Andy took a deep breath. "Oh, uh…lots of them. Some places in Columbus…Chicago…New York." He paused, trying to come up with something else to add. "Like I said, I'm not really sure what I want yet."

Mrs. Laird nodded understandingly. "You don't have to know just yet," she assured him. "You've still got a little over a month before you graduate."

Somehow, this brought Andy very little comfort. "Yeah," he said flatly.

"You know what you should do?" Mrs. Laird said suddenly. "You should call Matt's uncle. He lives in New York, and he's got a lot of connections. I'm sure he could put you in touch with some people that could help you find something."

Andy forced a smile. "That would be good."

"I think my husband has the number," she said, glancing over her shoulder for a glimpse of Mr. Laird, who was talking to another man a few feet away. "I'll make sure you get it before you leave."

Andy nodded. "Thanks."

"But with your resume, you should have no problems. You'll find a job in no time," she said, reaching out to pat his hand. "By the beginning of June, you'll be working for some big time firm in the city, I know it."

Andy swallowed, trying to ignore the way his stomach tightened at her suggestion. June was two months away. He tried to imagine himself showing up to work in a suit and tie, briefcase tucked under one arm, cup of coffee clutched in the other. He imagined himself getting caught up in the daily grind, fighting for clients, taking conference calls, staying late to finish up paperwork. He tried to imagine it, but didn't get very far. The very thought of starting a job like that made him tired.

"What about your parents?" Mrs. Laird asked, breaking into his thoughts. "What are they saying about all of this?"

The pressure in Andy's chest gained strength, and Andy started feeling a little claustrophobic. "Um…they're excited for me."

Mrs. Laird smiled kindly. "And proud, I'm sure."

Andy swallowed the lump in his throat. "Would you excuse me?" he asked. "I have to use the restroom."

Mrs. Laird nodded. "Of course."

Andy nodded politely and started walking toward the door, trying to keep from running. When he reached the hallway, he hung a right at the corner and headed down the hallway. He didn't stop until he reached a tiny sitting area across from the restrooms. He walked up to the wall of windows, which faced west into a small courtyard. He stood there for a long time, taking deep, jagged breaths, as the sun dipped past the horizon, making room for the coming night.

Allison hated funeral homes. She had ever since she was six years old and her grandmother passed away. Her mother had been in charge of the funeral plans, so she'd spent a lot of time at the funeral home, wandering around while her mother picked out flowers and caskets. Everything was fine until she ran across a room that was being set up for a viewing…and she saw her first dead body. Allison didn't think she'd ever screamed so loudly in her entire life.

Allison blew the hair out of her eyes and glanced over at John and Brian, who were talking about cars or something stupid like that. It seemed like Brian was carrying the conversation single-handedly while John just nodded along, staring out over the room.

Allison sighed and glanced over at the door leading out into the hallway. She could really use a sip of water, and she wondered if there was a water fountain anywhere in the building. With one final glance back at the boys, she slipped away, heading for the door.

Out in the hallway, Allison started looking for the restrooms. She remembered seeing them when she walked in, so she headed towards the front lobby, hoping to spot them. She turned the corner leading to a small sitting area just off of the main lobby and stopped short.

Andy was standing in front of a large window looking out over a courtyard, hands jammed into his pockets. He was standing perfectly still, taking steady breaths. His eyes were glazed over, and his mouth was hanging open slightly as if he couldn't quite muster up enough energy to keep it closed. He looked so tired.

She stood there for a moment, transfixed, before deciding that it would be best to leave and give him his privacy. But before she could move, Andy turned, and their eyes met.

Allison swallowed deeply, unsure of what to say. Andy just stared at her for a moment before he finally said, "Hey."

Allison's mouth hung open for a moment before she responded. "Hey."

Andy didn't turn away from her, so she stepped forward until she was standing a couple of feet away. He didn't move.

"A lot of people," she observed.

Andy paused, then nodded. "Yeah," he said quietly.

Allison wanted to say more, but the words felt stuck in her throat. So, she looked away, facing the window, where she could see that the sun had dipped just below the top of the roof on the other side of the courtyard. She was aware of Andy's eyes on her, of how close he was standing and what he smelled like. Finally, he looked away, back out over the courtyard, and Allison remembered to breathe again.

They stood there for a long time, neither of them speaking, watching the sun disappear over the rooftops.

A/N: If you're interested, the Breakfast Club fandom has forums set up. You can discuss favorite scenes and characters, get help for fan fiction stories you want to write, or play games. You can reach the forums by going back to the main TBC screen and clicking on the 'Forums' button at the top right-hand corner of the screen.

…after you review, of course. : ) Thank you.