A/N: Much love to all reviewers! So for an inexplicable reason, this took a looooong time to write. But writing this was a wonderful break between screaming seven year-olds and doing inventory. But I will have everyone know that the entire time I was writing this, I was getting evil glares from a cat. Burke/Addison is obviously not the cat's OTP. Sidenote: I really try to catch all spelling and grammatical errors, but I am horrible at correcting my own errors. So I apologize for any errors that occur in previous and future chapters. But anyway, enjoy!

Addison sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her open closet. It was always when she was under the most pressure that she never seemed to have anything to wear, and this was no exception. Nothing looked quite nice enough, and if it did look nice enough, it wasn't casual enough. She was determined to dress as though she hadn't put any thought into what she was wearing, that she just happened to look fabulous.

She kept thinking of this dinner with Preston as a date. And it wasn't. He was a man recovering from a pretty horrendous public break-up and was looking for a friend, not a new girlfriend. And even if he was looking for a girlfriend, she wouldn't be his girlfriend. Because they were friends, and she wouldn't want to ruin that. So dressing for dinner should be simple. It was two friends going out on the town to allow Preston another night free of Addison's cooking.

Even if it was a date, there were too many obstacles between them and a relationship. Not that they were thinking of pursuing a relationship. Addison shook her head. This was ridiculous. She was not looking for a relationship, and neither was he. Besides, they hadn't even been on a date yet. And if they were going on a date, it would make dressing for this dinner even more difficult because she hadn't been on a first date in fourteen years. Not that this was a date.

At some point while staring into the abyss that was her closet, she realized that Preston was sitting downstairs waiting for her, so she made herself stand up and pick out a pair of shoes. She always started with shoes. Getting the hardest decision out of the way first made the rest of the process easy. She chose a pair of Emilio Pucci pumps which led her to pick a black wrap dress which took her to a simple silver necklace. Glancing in the mirror, she decided that her hair would have to suffice as is and that she didn't want to add another fifteen minutes to Preston's wait.

She paused before opening her door, to collect her thoughts. She needed to remind herself that she and Preston were just friends. Just friends, nothing more. Even if she had feelings for him, which, to be realistic, maybe she did, she wouldn't act on them because they were just friends. She knew that it was unlikely that he was looking for anything more than just friends.

But there was that first phone call. She had been almost sure there had been attempts at flirting there. Or maybe he had just been complimenting her as a friend. It was hard to tell. But those moments where she had felt most uncomfortable, she was almost sure Preston had been flirting.

Putting the phone call aside, there was the fact that he had come all the way to Los Angeles. Perhaps it was just a vacation and he didn't want to pay hotel, but there must be a reason he chose to come here. Unless it was just that he wanted to visit a friend he hadn't seen in a while.

So they were friends. She could be friends with a man. She could be just friends, too. She had been friends with Derek, right? And before the sex, she had been friends with Mark. And she was friends with Preston. She stopped that train of thought because the word 'friends' had now lost all meaning. And because she had clearly reached her point: that she and Preston were just friends.

She opened her door and walked down the stairs, feeling a little as though this was prom night and she was going to be met by her date when she reached the bottom. Her face flushed as she saw Preston standing at the foot of the stairs, his hand extended. "I heard you coming. You look lovely," he said as she took his proffered hand.

"Thank you," she said, barely managing to get it out as her throat seemed to constrict as his fingers closed over hers. "You…you look nice too."

Preston laughed. "I'm wearing the same thing as I was earlier."

Addison closed her eyes in embarrassment and offered a silent prayer to anyone who might happen to be listening for her to not humiliate any further. "Well…," she said, trying to recover, "it looks nice."

"So you have said. Now, where are we off to tonight?" he asked as they walked towards the door.

Addison did her best to remember the place and to not allow her thoughts to be clouded by whatever emotion she might be feeling. "There's this little French bistro that Pete took me out to one of my first nights here, and I make it a point to be there at least once a week. It's gotten to the point where I can just order 'the usual' and they know what I want." Addison felt a little flustered. Mentioning Pete wouldn't have been a good idea, had this been a date. But it wasn't a date, so she shouldn't feel flustered. And it also wasn't as if Pete was an ex-boyfriend. After finding out about his wife's death, she didn't want to venture into romantic territory with him, figuring that he had enough to deal with without her added insanity. She was able to draw the line between boyfriend and friend.

So why couldn't she do that now? Preston had baggage that would normally automatically put him in the "Off-Limits" sect of men. She just reminded herself that he was just a friend, nothing more. Again. And then she realized that he had asked her a question while she had been engrossed in her own thoughts. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I just said, 'penny for your thoughts'," he said, smiling as she closed the door behind them.

Addison froze. She said the first thing that came to mind which was, "I was just thinking about…France. I went there once, and I was thinking about this café that I went to, and they had the best éclairs that I have ever had. And I sat outside and just watched people walk by. And that is what I was thinking." She ended a little abruptly because she hadn't really been thinking about that, and she didn't have a whole lot more to say on the subject. "I'm looking forward to dinner."

And she was. And it wasn't a date, just dinner between two friends. Just friends, just dinner.

To be continued…

A/N Again: So I hope you liked it. Thanks for reading.