Disclaimer: Still don't own Four Brother, still just manipulating them for my own entertainment...

Author's note: Well... actually... read first, then I'll talk to you...

Jack pulled down chairs for Cal, feeling bad about letting her do it with an injured wrist, and watched her check the taps. When he finished he joined her at the bar, bringing his guitar along. He played a little bit of nothingness as he waited for a conversation starter to come to him.

"What's your favorite color?" he asked suddenly.

"Hey that's my dumb question!"

"So give me a dumb answer."

"Purple," she admitted, "And I don't have a reason, I just like it."

"Your turn."

"Um…" she chuckled to herself, "Let's try this one. If you could be an inanimate object what would you be?"

He fake coughed and uttered psycho underneath it. "Where did you come up with that?"

"I was asked that in second grade. My answer was really cheesy. I said a stapler because then I could hold things together. Hmm, I wonder what I was thinking about," she rolled her eyes and continued. "So how about you?"

"Well I was thinking possibly a bra," he threw out, making her laugh. "But it would have to be a bra that was used specifically for modeling er something… otherwise I'd have the misfortune of ending up on some fat ass old lady and…" He shuddered.

"Nice Jack."

"Hey, you asked."

"Yeah I should have known you'd think of something like that."

"Yeah you shoulda. So, has your outlook changed since second grade? What object to you strive to be like now?"

She blushed suddenly and turned to pull a couple of glasses out. "You can't steal my question."

"Why are you avoiding it?" He was really curious now.

"I…don't feel like proving myself to be a girl at the moment."

"Oh, now you gotta tell me."

"No."

Woo, he must have hit a nerve. That was the only time he remembered her ever flat out saying no to anything. "Alright fine, I'll think of another question."

"Thank you."

Before he could say anything else there was a pounding on the back door. Cal glanced at her watch and sighed. "Fuck." Jack was getting up and heading for the back. "Jack, I can get it."

"But you'd rather not, and I'd rather put off beating the shit out of Alex until after we do a couple songs, so I'm going to go let them in." She smiled and pulled his guitar onto the bar as he handed it over. He couldn't help but realize he'd just voluntarily handed over his guitar to a girl, something he'd never ever done before. No one touched his guitar… not even Evelyn. What was wrong with this picture?...

Alex had been stunned when Jack answered the door, and immediately tried to stir up trouble. God that boy was a dumb ass. But he held off for a while, even after they played their set. He was preoccupied with booze and looser women for a while. Jack didn't bother staying close to Cal anymore. It was a really busy night, he didn't need to be bothering her. But he did not let Alex out of his sight for more than a few seconds at a time.

Then the night suddenly fell apart.

First, the band got a bit bored, so they did a random encore…during which Alex decided to announce the one thing Jack had never mentioned to Cal: the fact that the band was leaving in two weeks. He could have strangled the fucking loud mouth right then and there. To his utter shock however Cal seemed impressed at this news and smiled and cheered and clapped with the rest of the crowd (and by clapping of course it is meant that she slapped the counter with her one good hand…)

But then, before Jack had a chance to talk to the girl, Alex was trying to teach an unwilling him a new game at the pool table. Because he wasn't paying attention Alex decided they needed to actually show him how to play the game. Unfortunately only one other person knew how to play…

"Callie, get over here, we gotta teach your fuck-buddy how to play Steady Hands."

At the mention of the game the girl panicked a little. "I…uh, I can't, Alex." She was beginning to realize she couldn't use her job as an excuse because her father was kicking people out. But she held up her arm and pointed to the brace.

"Calla go play, but then they have to leave alright?"

"No, dad, they can leave now, really…"

"Go finish whatever Alex is asking you to finish."

Defeated, she walked cautiously toward the pool table. She snatched a specific stick off the rack and used even more caution as she stepped toward Alex. The son of a bitch was smiling the entire time. And then Jack figured out why.

You see, Steady Hands is played with two person teams. Each team has to work together to hit the balls… and they work together closely…very…very closely. Cal stretched out to aim the cue… Alex, with his hands everywhere except the cue, was supposedly helping her.

Jack was furious…at Alex for being a sick bastard, and at himself for letting Cal get dragged into the situation. His entire body was clenched up. He nearly bit himself as he tried not to lash out against his bandmate. His knuckles were white around the stick he gripped. God, he was such a fucking idiot. How could he just stand there like that? She was probably wondering the same thing. He'd saved her before, right… so why not now?

But when they took their practice shot and Alex kept her half bent over the table she looked up at Jack with a face that was anything but blame.

"Right," Alex was explaining, "Every time you miss your mark or sink the cue ball you have to drink. If you hit, you can choose to drink or not. But if you sink the eight ball early, you have to down an entire beer. And if you win the game, well, winner takes all." His hands never left the sides of the table, pinning Cal in front of him, but she'd had enough and pulled away, using the excuse of getting them drinks for the game.

"You playin' Baby?"

Cal flushed a little and sighed as she popped the tops off the beers. She walked back over with a stronger step and placed one beer in front of Alex. "If I play," she said, staring at the rather drunk young man, "It will only be a fair game if I'm not on your team. You can't have the only two people who know the game on the same team, that's uneven." She took a swig of the second beer, grabbed her favorite stick and walked to the same side of the table as Jack.

Oh god… this was bad… They'd all been drinking all night, Jack and Alex both had tempers, and now Cal was expecting him to do what? He couldn't… Just the thought of… not that he didn't want to…oh god did he want to… but… 17…leaving…friends… this was a disaster… Nervously he allowed Cal to wrench the second stick out of his hands and pass it across the table to her infuriated ex-boyfriend. When he hesitated to grab it Jack found himself hoping the girl would wail it against his skull… He deserved it after all he'd put her through before, and now this!

Stepping back, Jack leaned on the table and looked over at his teammate. "You don't have to do this." He said. "I'll make him leave right now if you want."

She smiled as she replied "But where's the fun in that?"

"Cal, I'm begging you, please don't make me do this."

"No one's forcing you to do anything, Jack. You can leave any time you want."

No he couldn't… he couldn't leave her at the mercy of that bastard across the table. He'd be all over her the second Jack was out of sight. And she knew it. The fact that she suggested he could leave really just meant that she trusted him not to.

She suddenly leaned down on her elbows to be face to face with him. He felt himself nervously gulp a little, completely unnerved by the fact that their faces were less than three inches apart. "Jack, we can piss him off, kick his ass, and make him mad jealous all at the same time… tell me that's not the least bit tempting."

Not as tempting as kissing you…NO … fuck… but it was tempting… but… it was wrong, on so many levels… He could so get arrested for this… not to mention Evelyn would kill him if she ever found out…

But before he could get his thoughts in order Alex and some random bimbo were taking their first shot.

Oh god… this wasn't happening… dream… nightmare… what the fuck was he feeling?... fuck, no he couldn't do this… but he couldn't get out of it either…

Cal was smiling slyly as she hopped off the other table to start their turn. Somehow he managed to trap her in front of himself like Alex had. His face was less than an inch from the back of her head. He was gonna lose his nerve… But she turned so he could see her nothing but her cheek. "Relax Jack," she whispered. "This is going to work. Do you trust me?"

Hell no he didn't trust her… but he nodded a little anyway.

She noticed he was still just as tense. "Jack, listen to me… You listening?"

"Yeah," he practically squeaked.

"I can't bend my right wrist, remember?" He nodded again. "The rules are you have to touch either me or the stick. Put your right hand on the stick." He obeyed slowly. "The left hand is up to you Jack."

How the hell did she expect him to think for himself in a situation like this? Taking a deep breath he opted to sink his thumb into her pocket. Funny, the place he'd stayed away from only a day ago was now the place he felt safe touching.

She leaned forward, bumping into him a little. She felt him tense up and glanced over her shoulder, trying to hide a smile. But she was focused on the game now. She noticed his flimsy movement with the stick so her injured hand crept over his… oh bad… touching was bad… he couldn't do this…

She took the shot, it was a little off so they had to drink. She went first and passed it to him behind her back, not bothering to look. He could have downed it and three more… He was miserable.

Their second shot was taken in much the same position, but this time their hit was much more solid. They sunk a ball, the first of the game, but Jack opted to drink anyway. Cal didn't argue, but she was still unsuccessfully hiding a smile. But after their third shot (a miss) she shook out her crippled wrist with a wince.

She expected him to move back like he had each time before, but instead he only took half a step and held her. With a sudden boldness he put his chin over her shoulder and whispered angrily. "Stop this."

As she turned toward him her cheek touched his and they both flinched a little. "What?"

Pissed off beyond all belief he yanked the stick from her injured hand and tried not to make it sound too harsh when he commanded "Give me your hand." His other arm snuck under hers and waited for her compliance. Slowly she let the braced arm settle across her middle. It was held fast with Jack's firm grip. "Are you listening?" he mimicked her a little, hoping she'd get the point. "I don't give a rat's ass if we win or lose this game. But I'll be damned if you're going to fuck up your wrist just to irritate the dumb ass who won't remember by the end of next week. Since I know you have no intention of giving up I'll let you finish this, but you're not using that hand. Understood?"

She swallowed hard but nodded. During the course of their conversation it had become their turn again. They took the shot and missed by far since they were both in a bit of a rush to back away. Cal hurried over to the bar to grab more beer. Jack could tell he'd scared her and he hated it, but it was the only way to stop her from hurting herself. Not to mention allowing himself to be angry was keeping his mind off of…other nameless feelings that he most certainly did not experience around this 17 year old friend of his…

They took another shot and sunk another ball. They were tied with Alex and his whore now, but it didn't matter. Jack couldn't take this any more. As they aimed again he saw his way out, and it was in the form of a little black ball.

He hit the cue ball wrong on purpose, making it not only send the eight ball into a pocket, but having the scuffed up white ball follow suit. Game over.

Cal had tensed when she felt him twist the stick away from where she had carefully aimed. He was sure there was a look of disbelief on her face, but he was glad he couldn't see it. He pulled her upright, tossed the stick on the table and wrapped his arm around the girl's chest. He chugged a good bit of the new beer and set it back on the edge of the table. She lived here, she could finish it later. Now sufficiently provided with courage he pressed his forehead to the back of her head. He could smell her flowery shampoo more strongly than he ever imagined he would and for a moment his lack of brain function allowed him to enjoy it. Then he remembered why he'd pulled her so close. He wanted to talk to her… so many things could be said here… should be said here… but he couldn't make himself do it.

"I'm sorry," was what he managed first in a whisper. "This is all fucked up. I should have told you about the leaving. I shouldn't have let him drag us into this…fucking game."

She willed her neck to turn farther, she wanted to look at him so badly, but she could do nothing. "Jack, don't." The whimper in her voice nearly killed his resolve. "Not like this."

"Too late, Chick." He let go of her and followed Alex out the door. The night had ended. He knew he'd done the right thing. But he still felt dead inside.

Author's Note (really): Don't worry, It's no where near over. I'm not THAT mean. But now you do have to suffer and wait for me to write the next chappie to see what happens...mwahaha... right anyway... it's now 2 am, so I'm going to bed, but I promise I'll start work on this again tomorow sometime, and I'm leaving for home in a day and a half so I'll have quite a bit of time... as long as my brain cooperates we should be good for another two or three chappies in the next week or so...