Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Don's sue
A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed my story. I really appreciate all of your comments. I want to apologize for taking so long to update this story. My only excuse is a hurricane named Wilma made everything a bit crazy at the end of last year. I hope to do better in the future.
Chapter 4: Boys Night Out
When Jack heard the knock on the door, he grabbed his jacket off of the chair and opened the door. "Hey Doug. Ready to go?"
"Let the games begin," Doug replied, and they set off down the street toward O'Malley's. When they got there, they found two places at the bar, and very soon had two tall glasses of Sam Adams in front of them. Jack was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Doug about a variety of things. He found out that Doug had played baseball in high school, and he talked about playing football for Capeside High. From there, they somehow transitioned into talking about their jobs and their different experiences dealing with teenagers.
Later that evening, Jack realized that he was really enjoying himself. When he had proposed going out and getting drunk, he had expected that most of the evening would be about drowning his frustrations in alcohol. As he drank his second beer, he realized that he no longer felt any residual anger from this afternoon, and that he no longer felt the overwhelming need to get drunk. Instead, he could actually enjoy the evening, and maybe get pleasantly buzzed. Doug was obviously going for a much higher level of intoxication, for lined up on the bar were three empty shot glasses, which formerly had contained tequila.
Many beers, a couple more shots of tequila, and two rounds of pool later, they were back at the bar. Jack sat there, watching Doug talking to two guys from Boston. From his slow, deliberate speech, it was obvious to Jack that Doug was pretty drunk. Tonight he had seen a completely new side of Pacey's older brother. While Doug often appeared to be pretty serious and even a bit stuffy, it was obvious from tonight that he was a kind man, who could be funny when he just took the opportunity to relax a bit. It was after midnight, and Doug was getting into a fairly heated discussion with the two guys on the merits of the designated hitter in baseball. While Doug had willingly gone along with the plan to get drunk together, Jack didn't think that getting into a bar fight was part of that plan. In addition, he felt very protective of Doug, who so obviously had needed a night to cut loose a little, but had so little experience actually doing so. Jack placed a hand on Doug's shoulder, trying not to notice the firm muscles that were hidden beneath Doug's shirt. "Doug, do you mind if we get out of here? I'm really tired."
Doug looked up in surprise. "Sure. No problem." He stood up and pulled on his jacket, only slightly unsteady on his feet. They walked out of O'Malley's into the cold night air, which had the effect of sobering both men up slightly. The street was nearly deserted as they walked in silence back to Jack's place.
When Jack returned from brushing his teeth, he found Doug stretched out on the couch, his eyes closed. Jack stood in the doorway for a minute watching the sheriff sleep. He walked over and grabbed the afghan from the back of the couch and spread it across Doug. He was about to turn away when Doug's eyes opened.
"Jack?" he whispered.
"Yes, Doug," he answered softly.
"I am so tired of being lonely." His voice was sad, and again, Jack could see the vulnerability that he had first glimpsed earlier that day.
Jack could only stand there and watch as Doug's eyes closed once again, and his breathing changed to that of deep sleep, "I know," he whispered. Unable to stop himself, he reached down to brush back a lock of hair from Doug's forehead. "Good night Doug. Sleep well."
The next morning Jack walked into the living room, and found Doug still on the sofa, his arm thrown over his eyes. "Are you awake?" Jack whispered.
"Yeah," Doug groaned, "now I remember why I decided never to drink that much anymore."
"I brought you some aspirin," he said, handing them to Doug, whose eyes were still closed. "Here's some water."
Doug took the proffered water gratefully, swallowing the pills and then struggled to sit up despite the pounding headache.
"In college I found the best cure for a bad hangover was pancakes. How about we head over to the Ice House?" Jack suggested.
Doug managed a weak grin. "OK, and hopefully Pacey won't give me too much grief."
Jack smiled back. "If necessary, I'll run interference for you."
And so they headed off to the Ice House for the curative properties of hangover pancakes. Nothing was said about the conversation from the previous night.
