Guys, I have to apologize for my laziness. So: A deep, heartfelt sorry. I promise to be better.

And now: Enjoy!

Chapter Two – A night out

The music's pumping, you can feel the beat resonating in your breast bone. You've been here for about fifteen minutes and you're already at your second beer, making sure everyone thinks it's still your first. You still haven't seen neither him nor her and you decide that's a good thing. Because you're gonna need at least two more beers before you can stand that sight without turning to flee the scene. Which wouldn't exactly help your reputation.

Neither will getting drunk, a tiny voice in the back of your head warns you, but you decide to ignore it. Because getting drunk can happen to everyone. Losing it because you see your supposedly best friend happily in love with some guy can't. And so you drown your beer as Garcia turns to wave Morgan and Reid over to where the two of you are already sitting and you quickly gesture to the bartender for another.

This is going to be one hell of a long night.

The boys sit down and you are making small talk, your mind drifting away while you're listening in just enough to figure out when to laugh and when to pull which face. It's easier than you expected to fall back into your role playing and you think that there really seems to be something you have to be grateful to your mother for.

Suddenly Garcia nudges you and you think you must have lost track of the conversation inspite of your efforts not to do so. But it turns out Garcia's nudge had little to do with Morgan's story about the girl he got to know during a Superbowl Game. When you notice what it really was about, however, you would happily have made up some excuse as to why you weren't listening, if only it meant being spared of that sight for just a few minutes more.

It's her and she's coming in with one of his hands on the small of her back, while the other's resting on her shoulder. The gesture sends a pang right through your heart, because this is the way you would normally guide her in an overcrowded room - Minus the hand on her shoulder of course. The gesture's too possessive, to overbearing for you to ever use it on her. But coming from him, she obviously doesn't seem to mind.

Because now that's his place to be and this is the way she wants it. And so you stand there, frozen, and watch as they are making their way over to you. The bartender brings your beer and you raise the bottle to your lips without taking your eyes off them.

Well, so much for behaving unsuspiciously, you berate yourself.

Then, she turns her head to him and suddenly you have no trouble at all with turning your eyes away, because you really don't have to watch them kissing. You take another healthy draft of beer and the cool liquid seems to calm your burning insides.

At least a bit.

When you raise your gaze again, she's standing in front of your table, greeting Garcia and the boys. When she turns to you, it takes everything you have to keep the mask in place the moment those kind, open eyes meet yours. Still, you manage to hold her gaze and the second's over sooner than you would've thought, because he whispers something into her ear and she turns to look at him, yet again.

He leaves your table, making his way to the bar while she slides into the bunk next to Reid. Which is exactly opposite to where you're sitting. Great, you just think, this evening's getting greater by the second. Now you don't have a choice but to watch them for the whole evening.

He returns, handing some colourful, sweet drink over to her and you can't help but wonder what happened to the JJ who would've died for a cold beer after a hard and stressful day.

Almost on cue, you take another big swallow and this time Garcia actually shoots you a strange glance. You suppose you really have to drink more slowly. Every action precisely controlled, you set your bottle down. Garcia's eyes move on to settle on Morgan who's trying to get Reid to shut up by telling him that he's the only one in here who's seen Star Wars more than once, if at all. Everything's so strangely familiar that it makes you wanna cry. Because one glance across the table shoves the reality right into your face.

Nothing's the same anymore.

And pretending it still is is just about killing you. You mumble some kind of excuse and make your way to the bathroom. You've never needed some air more than you do right now. You pass by the bathroom and walk out of the club. It's late and the streets are almost empty. You lean your back against some old wall and your head bumps against the bricks with a dull sound. The air's pleasantly cool and you quickly get goosebumps because you left your jacket inside. You have the insane wish of opening yourself from head to toe so that the chill can seep inside you and freeze all the feelings that are burning you up from the inside. Maybe the cold can freeze the wound you're carrying around. Maybe the cold can lessen your pain. Because right now you wouldn't mind never feeling anything again, if it just meant you didn't have to feel what you're feeling now.

You take a shaky breath and try to get yourself back together again. This is not how you wanted to do this. You wanted to be cool, collected and calm. Which you will be again in five minutes. You just need those few minutes to yourself because you fear that otherwise you'll implode.

Your time's over and you enter the club once more. After the cold silence outside, the club's too loud and there are way too many people around you, blocking your way, closing in on you. You manage to get back to your table where you quickly make up some excuse about meeting someone on your way. You're not entirely sure you would've believed yourself. Still, they seem to buy it, but you know that from now on you'll have to be really careful if you don't want this night to blow up right into your face.

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A/N: Hope you're still with me on this one. Comments are love!