TITLE: The Quality of Darkness
SPOILERS: Anything from the series is fair game.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Drake & Josh. All are owned by Dan Schneider, et al. I am not profiting in any way except creatively.

A/N: The plot thickens... Enjoy!

Chapter 14: Unpleasant Surprises

Drake was nervous. He looked at his watch – something he rarely wore – and frowned when he realized that only three minutes had passed since the last time he looked at it.

Restless, he pushed himself from the chair and strode over to the refreshment counter, propping his forearms on the glass and leaning against them. "Hey Josh," he said, tapping his fingertips against the glass in an irregular beat.

Josh had his back turned to him; he was helping a customer and his movements made his gold vest sparkle in the light. He didn't respond to Drake's entreaty.

"Josh," Drake tried again, louder this time, leaning in a little.

Still, Josh didn't respond.

Frustrated, Drake reached over the counter and grabbed a handful of empty soda cups, flinging them at Josh. They bounced off his brother's oversized head and rained to the ground, scattering at his feet.

"What?!" Josh asked irritably, turning around and facing his brother, shooting him a look that could fuse atoms. "Can't you see that I'm a little busy here?"

Drake cast a brief glance over Josh's shoulder, quickly noting the long line at the soda fountain and the lack of help behind the counter. "Oh, yeah. Right." He shrugged. "Sorry."

"Thank you!" Josh said, flustered, gesturing emphatically as he turned back towards the line.

Drake walked behind the counter and started scooping candy out of the glass case, piling it on top of the counter. "Free candy here! Get your free candy!"

Suddenly there was a mad rush as greedy teenaged moviegoers grabbed whatever they could get their hands on and rushed towards the theaters. Josh could only stand there and stammer, reaching blindly for the few boxes of candy left after the stampede, then glared darkly at Drake when the rush was over.

"What?" Drake asked, grinning slightly. "I was helping."

"Helping?" Josh asked incredulously. He looked down at the two boxes of Sno Caps in his hands, then at the empty candy case, then back at Drake. "Helen's gonna kill me."

"Yeah, yeah," Drake said, brushing off his brother's plight. "I don't have time for your problems right now. I need a favor."

"Oh, no." Josh waved his hands in the air between them, the candy rattling in his hands. "No no no." He shook his head emphatically.

"You don't even know what it is yet," Drake said, his voice carrying a note of wheedling.

"Don't care." Josh shook the boxes of candy again. "I'm busy, Drake. Adam called in sick and Carrie is already an hour late and I've still got to collect the money from the matinee shows and now I've got to restock the candy," he explained quickly. He gave his brother a pointed look. "Thanks to you."

"But, Josh…"

"No 'buts'. You see this gold vest?" Josh continued, cutting him off, transferring the box of candy from his right hand to his left and plucking at his vest with a forefinger and thumb. "It means that I'm in charge, Drake. Me. Which means that when there's no one else, I've got to do it."

"What about Gavin?" Drake asked.

"Gavin?" Josh asked, confusion crinkling his eyes. "Gavin doesn't work here anymore."

Drake pointed over Josh's left shoulder. "Well, you might want to tell him that."

Josh turned to find Gavin in all his mullet-headed glory gazing back at him impassively over the empty candy case, red vest and all. "There's a duck swimming in one of the toilets in the men's room. Helen said to get it out," he said to Josh in his trademark monotone.

"Didn't you quit?" Josh asked, staring at him.

Gavin shrugged. "Guess not."

A moment passed before realization lit Josh's eyes. "Wait…did you say 'duck'?"

Holding his hands up so that they were just a few inches apart, Gavin replied, "Just a little one." Then he turned and walked away.

Josh stared after him for a few seconds before shaking his head in exasperation.

"So, Josh," he heard Drake say behind him, "about that favor…"

Josh closed his eyes against the sound of his brother's voice. "What?" he asked resignedly, sighing as he turned back towards Drake.

Drake just grinned. "I need you to keep a lookout for me."

"For what?" Josh asked.

"You know," Drake replied, nudging him. "For Ginger. I'm supposed to meet her here." He looked at his watch. "In nine minutes."

Josh's eyebrows drew together for an instant before clarity lit up his face. A slow smile spread across his lips. "Ah, yes. Mystery Girl." 'Ginger' was the name Drake had given to his secret admirer while they were watching a Gilligan's Island marathon on TV Land. Drake thought it sounded sexy.

Drake rubbed his hands together nervously, his dark eyes scanning the lobby quickly before settling back on Josh. "She'll be here any minute." He let out a ragged breath.

"Drake Parker, are you nervous?" Josh was enjoying this.

A sheepish grin curved Drake's mouth. "A little," he admitted, shrugging.

"Well, I'll –" Josh began, smiling.

"I got it," Gavin muttered, interrupting him as he walked past them with a duck under his arm.

Both Drake and Josh stared after him for a moment, then looked back at each other. "What's the matter with you?" Josh asked his brother. "You don't get nervous."

"I know, man. But I can't help it. I mean," he responded, his eyes darting to the entrance and then back again, "what if…what if she's not what I expect?"

"You mean what if she's not a super-hot swimsuit model who has a thing for wannabe rock stars with shaggy hair?" Josh retorted facetiously.

"Yeah," Drake said immediately. Then, "Wait…"

"Drake," Josh said evenly, resting his hand on Drake's shoulder. "You've built her up so much that Heidi Klum could walk in here in a bikini and you'd be disappointed."

Drake seemed to think about it for a moment. "You're right," he said finally. "I need to just relax." He smiled, nodded. "I'm sure she's hot. No, I know she's hot. Of course she is," he said reassuringly to himself.

"Excuse me," a voice said impatiently.

The boys looked to see a long line forming once again at the counter. A boy about their age looked angrily at them. "Could I get some help here? My movie's about to start."

"Sure," Josh muttered, turning towards the counter. "O-Of course. What can I get you?"

"I'd like pack of Twizzlers and a large Coke."

"Er," Josh replied, peering through the glass and seeing the still-empty candy display gaping at him. "We're out of Twizzlers. All we've got left is two boxes –" he continued, holding out the two boxes of Sno Caps he still held in his left hand. But one box was snatched away by a freckle-covered arm that he knew well. "Um, one box –" The other box was snatched out of his grasp. "We're out of candy," he muttered darkly.

He hazarded a glance out of the corner of his eye as Drake began to walk away, heard the rattle of the candy as he tore open one of the boxes. "She'll be wearing a green shirt," he heard Drake reply over the din as he made his way to the tables on the far side of the lobby. "So keep an eye out."

Drake settled into an empty table near the wall but close to the restrooms so he could unobtrusively watch the people entering the movie theater. He wanted to see her before she saw him, so if he decided to back out, he could escape into the men's room. His dark eyes scanned every girl that walked in, looking for a green shirt.

He looked at his watch. Five minutes. He flicked his gaze over to Josh, who was still busy waiting on customers, his arms moving with practiced ease. Drake frowned; Josh was going to be no help at all.

Shifting in his chair, he tried to look casual, crossing his left ankle over his right knee and leaning back, one arm draped across the back of his chair. His other hand played nervously with the empty candy boxes, which lay crumpled on the table in front of him; he had eaten both boxes hurriedly in his nervousness and now his stomach was rebelling.

He looked at his watch again. Three minutes.

He took a deep breath, let it out in a rush. Why was he so nervous, anyway? It had been his idea to finally meet. He hadn't been able to hold out any longer with the not knowing; it was starting to drive him crazy. He had even made a conscious effort in the last two weeks to try to make eye contact with every girl in school, hoping to see that flicker of acknowledgement in their eyes. He even risked bodily injury to meet the gazes of the girls who hated him in order to discover the identity of his secret admirer.

Nothing.

Finally, as a last resort, he had actually approached the girl from study hall – the one he had caught looking at him over her copy of Huck Finn. He smiled at her as the blush crept up her neck and formally introduced himself, offering his hand to her.

She had been frozen at first, gazing at him through huge blue eyes that didn't blink. When he asked, she had shyly told him her name was Maddie. He had pursued the conversation, saying casually that he noticed she hadn't been in study hall lately. She had started to relax a little, sharing with him that she had been put into Advanced Placement English and her schedule had changed. She had study hall second period now.

They had chatted a little longer about small stuff and he had discovered that he liked her laugh and the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. He wasn't smitten, just charmed. But he had walked away convinced that she was not 'Ginger'. She was just too innocent; and if she wasn't, then she was a heck of an actress. Besides, Ginger had told him that she had blonde hair and Maddie's hair was brown. But it had been worth a shot anyway. Later, when they passed each other in the hall, she would smile at him. But they hadn't spoken since.

Drake looked at his watch for what felt like the thousandth time. It was 7:33pm. He frowned; either he'd missed her or she was late. Or, he thought reluctantly, she decided not to show.

He slumped in his chair, at a loss.

"You got stood up, didn't you?"

Drake didn't look up. He didn't want to see the satisfied smirk that he knew would be adorning his brother's face. "It's still early," he stubbornly replied.

He could almost hear Josh smile. "Sure, bro." He stood there a moment, looking down at his sulking stepbrother in amusement. Finally, he sighed. "Well, Carrie finally showed up, so now I can get back to what I'm supposed to be doing." When Drake didn't respond, Josh just shrugged and started to walk away. Then, suppressing a grin, he spun around and said, "Dude! I think I see her. You said a green shirt, right?"

Drake's head snapped up, his eyes meeting Josh's, then his gaze flitted to where Josh was pointing. Near the entrance was a woman, 65 years old if a day, wearing a green pullover sweater and yellow polyester pants. She was clutching the arm of an elderly man as they walked slowly towards the ticket counter.

Clenching his jaw, Drake turned a dark look on Josh, who was doing a very poor job of hiding his laughter. "Very funny," he said through his teeth.

Josh laughed, then made an effort to get more serious. "Look, man. She might still show."

Drake glanced at his watch again. 7:37pm. "Whatever." He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.

"Hey, I've really got to get back to work," Josh said, his voice softening. All the amusement was gone. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Drake met his brother's eyes, then nodded. "Yeah. See you later." He watched Josh disappear into the back, then slumped down in his chair until his head rested along the back, staring up at the ceiling.

The sensation of his phone vibrating in his pocket stirred him from his thoughts. Sitting up straight, he dug in his pocket for the phone. Flipping it open, he saw that he had a new text message; he was already smiling when he opened it.

"sorry im late"

Drake's smile turned into an all-out grin as he looked up to scan the room. Besides the old lady, no one else was wearing a green shirt. Quickly, he pressed the REPLY button and typed a response, pressing SEND with his thumb.

"where r u?"

He held his breath as he looked around again, expecting to see a pretty girl in a green shirt walk through the entrance at any second. He was concentrating so hard on the door that he actually jumped slightly when he felt his phone vibrating against his palm. He looked down at it.

"come find me"

Drake laughed, feeling his heart racing with excitement. He typed back, "need a hint"

A few seconds later, the response came: "outside"

Standing, Drake took one last look around the theater lobby as he headed towards the exit. Pushing through the glass doors, he stepped into the warm night, his boots scuffing against the sidewalk. It was completely dark and the nighttime lights of the city sparkled up and down the street. Throngs of people walked past and Drake could hear laughter and snatches of conversation. He stood on his tiptoes to see over people's heads, looking for Ginger.

The phone buzzed in his hand. "ur cold"

Drake smiled, then stepped away from the theater, dodging the other pedestrians as he melted into the current, heading towards his left.

"colder" Ginger told him.

Stopping in his tracks, he turned around, heading in the opposite direction.

"warmer"

Obviously she could see him, so she had to be close. Drake stopped near the edge of the sidewalk, the toes of his boots poking out over the curb. He squinted as he gazed across the street, his eyes searching for someone he had only imagined. Who only said they'd be wearing a green shirt. Maybe that was just part of the game.

His phone buzzed. "give up yet?"

"nope" he texted back. "r or l?"

A few seconds passed, then: "r"

Drake turned to his right and started walking, waiting for another message to guide him. It came a few steps later. "stop"

His heart thudding against his ribs, Drake stopped abruptly. He looked around, but didn't see anyone looking at him – no giggling girl in a green shirt. "i dont c u" he texted back.

"across the street" came the response.

Lifting his eyes from his phone, he looked across the street. Directly across from him was a Christian bookstore and a bagel shop. Between the two stores was a loading zone, dark this time of night.

"r u hiding?" he texted.

"maybe" Then, a few seconds later, another message. "look 4 me"

Drake squeezed the little phone in his fingers, then took a breath and crossed the street at a jog, checking for traffic. When he reached the opposite sidewalk, he looked around for someone watching him, but all he saw were people paying him no mind as they went about their business.

He turned his attention to his phone, typing a quick message. "let me c u"

A moment later, the response. "ur almost there"

Fighting back growing frustration and a vague feeling of apprehension, he looked around again. This girl better be gorgeous for all the trouble she's putting him through, he thought. He was standing in front of the Christian bookstore – garishly named "Crucifiction" – and he stepped up to the glass and looked inside. The only people he could see between the displays of bibles and the shelves of ceramic figurines of Jesus and the Apostles were an elderly clerk behind the cash register and a heavy-set African-American woman with her nose buried in a copy of Left Behind.

He looked to his left. A crowd of twentysomethings spilled out onto the sidewalk outside a tiny Italian restaurant that shared a wall with the bookstore, sweating bottles of beer gripped in their fingers. He looked to his right – there was a dark patch of sidewalk where the loading zone was, then the bagel shop beyond it.

Bagel shop, he decided, and turned to his right. He was halfway there when his phone buzzed. "ur here"

Drake looked around, found himself ensconced in the shadows emitting from the darkened loading zone. He took a tentative step further into the shadows, then stopped, trying to pick out shapes in the dark space. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out a ramp leading to a metal door and what looked to be a light fixture above it. The bulb, apparently, wasn't working. Sharp smells of garbage and motor oil filtered into his nose.

His phone buzzed again and the blue light from the LCD screen cast him in a ghostly light. "r u scared?"

A nervous laugh escaped his throat and he swallowed hard to suppress it. "You can come out now," he said into the shadows, his voice bouncing off the walls and the warm pavement beneath his feet.

Another message. "just a few more steps"

"But I want to see you," Drake said, trying to keep his voice calm. The fun was wearing off, replaced by an anxiety he couldn't justify.

"come on"

With a heavy sigh and a pounding heart, Drake walked further into the shadows until the darkness seemed to swallow him whole. He stopped on the edge of the pool of faint light cast by the streetlamps. It was cooler here, away from the bustle of the street. "Okay, I'm here," he said softly. "It's your turn."

A long moment passed in silence. Then, Drake heard what he thought was the sound of footsteps on gravel. He turned towards the sound just as he heard the words, "Hello, Drake."

The voice was familiar and was distinctly not feminine. An arrow of fear shot through him. "Who–" he began, but then recognition stole his voice.

"I know I'm not who you expected," Nathan Bradford said evenly. He was standing in front of Drake, his back to the loading zone's entrance. His silhouette was dark against the dim light and muffled sounds of laughter and conversation filtered towards them from the street.

Drake couldn't speak. He held his phone in a vise grip against his thigh as he stared unblinking at the man in front of him. His breaths escaped raggedly through his nostrils.

"It was your idea to meet, remember? Not mine." The man's voice carried a hint of the same edge that Drake remembered from Thanksgiving and he shuddered involuntarily against the sound.

"I thought…" Drake managed, his mouth suddenly dry.

"I know what you thought, Drake," Nathan replied. "But you were wrong."

"I…you lied," Drake whispered.

Nathan laughed, a low rumble that seemed to roll from his lips like distant thunder. "I never lied to you. You asked me what color my hair was. I said blond. You asked me what color my eyes were. I said blue. I told you that you see me everyday at school. All of that's true."

Drake could tell he was smiling. "But…"

"You just assumed I was one of those shallow girls who fawn all over you in the hallway," Nathan said hotly, anger sharpening his voice. He took a breath, let it out slowly, and Drake could feel it lightly against his face. Nathan leaned in, whispering, "But I'm not."

Those words seemed to awaken Drake's senses and he moved quickly to his left, trying to get past. His dark eyes flicked to the people passing by on the sidewalk, then back to Nathan, who had stepped smoothly in front of him, blocking his way. "What's your hurry?" Nathan asked softly. "I just want to talk."

Drake's eyes burned and anger mingled with the fear that crept along his skin. "Get away from me," he said through clenched teeth. "Before I call the fuckin' cops." He held up his phone, thumb poised over the '9'.

Nathan clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Such language, Mr. Parker," he said, effortlessly switching into his teacher persona. "Swearing at a teacher. Just think how disappointed your mother would be to hear that."

Drake clenched his jaw so tightly he thought his teeth would crack. "Go to hell," he growled and pushed past the man, his right shoulder bumping against Bradford's arm.

He was stopped short by warm fingers circled tightly around his wrist. "Let go of me," he whispered, silently cursing the note of pleading in his voice.

Nathan just looked at him and Drake could feel the man readjust his grip on his wrist. "I can't." And his voice sounded strangled, like he couldn't breathe.

"I'll scream," Drake warned, his eyes flicking once again to the people passing by on the sidewalk. They were less than twenty-five feet away, but they seemed like they were in another world altogether.

Nathan closed his fingers tighter around Drake's wrist and Drake could feel his watch cutting into his skin. "I don't think you will," Nathan challenged.

Drake leveled his stare at him through the darkness. "Oh yeah? Think again," he spat and turned his face towards the loading zone entrance, opening his mouth. But the sound was knocked from his throat by the impact of his body against the wall and he suddenly found himself pinned, unable to move. What little air he had burned in his lungs. He struggled vainly to break free.

"I'm sorry," Nathan whispered, his lips against Drake's ear. "I don't want to hurt you." He let his head fall against the curve of Drake's neck. The full length of his body was holding Drake in place and Drake could smell the sharp scent of aftershave and sweat.

"Please," Drake whispered. "Please just let me go. It's okay." But it wasn't. It wasn't okay and he closed his eyes against the fear that threatened to consume him.

"I'm sorry," Nathan whispered again.

"It's okay," Drake repeated, opening his eyes. He could see the curve of the man's shoulder, could feel his hair against his cheek, could feel the force of his breaths as he inhaled and exhaled, his chest pressing against Drake's. "Just let me go. I won't tell anyone."

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say because Nathan snapped his head up and focused what Drake knew to be piercing blue eyes on him. But in the darkness, they looked black. "Tell them what?" Nathan asked, almost hissing the words. He pressed harder against Drake and the boy gasped against the pressure.

"N-Nothing," Drake managed. He felt like he was going to be sick and swallowed instinctively against it.

Nathan glared at him for a long moment, then seemed to relax a little, slumping back against Drake. "No one would believe you anyway," he whispered, so softly that Drake barely heard him, even from so close.

Drake closed his eyes against the words, but he knew the man was right. He didn't believe it himself and he was living it. "Mr. Bradford," he whispered.

"Call me Nathan."

"Nathan," he said, swallowing against the bitter taste of the name on his tongue. "Please let me go." He tried again to move, but found he couldn't.

"I just want to be friends," Nathan replied softly, the words warm and moist against Drake's neck. "That's all."

But Drake knew the man wanted more than that, could feel it pressing against his right hip. Another wave of nausea flowed through him and the acidic taste of bile rose in the back of his throat. "Please," he whispered as he blinked back tears.

Drake could feel Nathan take in one long, deep breath, then let it out slowly, the warm air tickling the hair on the back of his neck. Lifting his head, Nathan looked at Drake, his face just a couple inches away. "I can't let you go," he whispered desolately.

After another moment, he stepped back and Drake almost slumped to the ground. He clutched at the wall, getting his feet steady beneath him, and concentrated on pulling air into his lungs. When he felt strong enough, he looked at Nathan, who stared back at him in silence.

"I'm sorry." But the words had lost their meaning.

Drake just shook his head as he made his way back to the world outside the one he was trapped in, back to the world where he had control over his life. He tried to concentrate on the sound of his boots on the gravel, hoping the sound would drown out the white noise that was starting to fill his head.

But it didn't.

The room was dark and Josh was in bed when Drake opened the door to their bedroom long after midnight. Closing the door behind him, he stood on the platform and leaned against it.

He felt brittle, like any pressure against his skin would cause him to crumble into pieces. His bed looked so far away and the mere thought of climbing the ladder made his knees weak – enough so that he sunk to the floor where he stood. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he folded his arms across them and rested his head against the door.

His eyes fluttered closed, but the darkness behind his eyelids reminded him of everything he had spent the last several hours trying to forget. But the memories were still there, clinging to his skin like grains of sand, as sharp and clear as if they had just happened.

His voice. His breath. His smell. The fear that had percolated from deep inside, blotting out everything else.

"Drake?"

The voice was thick with sleep, but Drake could still hear the note of relief in it. "Yeah," he said softly, lifting his head with effort to meet his brother's eyes.

Josh sat up, rubbing his eyes with the meaty parts of his hands as he yawned. "When did you get home?"

"Just now."

Tilting his head slightly, Josh studied his brother through the moonlit darkness. "You okay?"

Drake's lips trembled and he was thankful for the darkness. "Yeah," he said. "Just tired."

"You disappeared on me," Josh replied, more awake now. He crossed his legs Indian-style beneath the covers. "Did Mystery Girl show up?"

Drake closed his eyes against the question. "No," he answered simply, opening his eyes again.

Josh frowned. "I'm sorry."

But the words made Drake feel sick. He stood up shakily, gripping the doorknob for balance. "I'm…" he began, swallowing. "I'm gonna go take a shower." And without a second glance at Josh, he left the room.

Two minutes later, his clothes were laying in a pile on the bathroom floor and he was standing under the water, trying to wash the sand from his skin.

But no matter how hard he scrubbed, it wouldn't come off.

Please review. Thank you.