The Simple Need

by Pandora147

S is for the simple need; E is for the ecstasy; X is just to mark the spot coz that's the one you really want. Girl meets boy. Sparks fly. Rated M. TxG.

7. Seven

THE SIMPLE NEED

Dedicated with love to Kerry, who without really trying succeeded in re-sparking my desire to write this.

xxx

SEVEN

xxx

"And then I decided that maybe archaeology wasn't for me and so I changed my concentration to palaeontology..."

Gabriella smiled a tight smile and nodded, taking a long sip from her chardonnay. She was sitting across the table from one of her colleagues, Mitchell Peterson. He'd subtly been flirting for a while every time they crossed paths and he'd managed to corner her in the elevator on Wednesday afternoon and finally asked her out. She'd contemplated making up an excuse but decided why not – she had to eat, after all, and she'd made the conscious decision to attempt to be more social. Which led to her presence in one of the more upper class restaurants in the SoHo area.

"I'm really fascinated with the study of climates and I'm hoping to conduct a..."

In hindsight, she wished that her decision to be social had come with a disclaimer that it needn't apply to social offers from palaeontology professors.

It had been the week from hell. She was never one to complain about a heavy workload; however the week gone by had been just shy of torture. One of her colleagues had come down with a sudden case of mononucleosis and she'd picked up an extra class into an already packed schedule. All three of her classes had papers due and students who were eager to get their marks back as quickly as possible. Having recently been a student herself Gabriella completely sympathised and every spare moment of her time was spent marking. Additionally finals were just around the corner and so her consultation hours were extended and she was fielding dozens of e-mails from frantic students who'd barely attended class all semester and now intended to learn all the coursework in one crammed period of time. A night out of fun and a few drinks had sounded appealing and she'd actually been looking forward to the date on Friday afternoon – Mitchell was a nice man, he was good looking and obviously intelligent, a quality which was of appeal to her. However a man who had spent the entire meal explaining his life story of how he came to be a history major and his graduate school studies and every little project he'd ever completed... between the self absorption and the mind numbing boredom she was experiencing, all she could do was stop herself from checking the time on her Blackberry every five seconds.

He'd taken twice as long to eat as she had – likely because he'd been talking constantly, and he finally placed his fork down and wiped his mouth with his napkin.

"Whew. That was incredible. I really love this restaurant, don't you?"

"It is really nice," she agreed. "SoHo is such a cute area."

"You should've bought an apartment here," Mitchell said. "More of a sound real estate decision to buy in SoHo than the Village."

She shrugged. "I love Greenwich Village. I've wanted to live there for such a long time, even before I'd started applying for jobs in Manhattan."

"I hear that they have amazing cheesecakes here," Mitchell said, glancing around for the waitress with the intent of asking for a dessert menu.

"Oh, I'm stuffed, I couldn't fit in another bite," Gabriella said apologetically. She wasn't lying – she really didn't want dessert – however a little of her motive was to discourage the prolonging of dinner any longer than necessary. "But you can have something if you like."

"Oh no, I'm not much of a sweet tooth. I just thought you might like something." He glanced at his watch. "Actually, if we get going soon, I did have an idea of somewhere we can go, if you're interested."

"Oh?" Gabriella attempted to sound mildly interested. She should've known better – if they'd had dinner on a weeknight she could've used a class the next day as an excuse to get out of a long evening, but with Saturday ahead of her she couldn't even think of something plausible to explain why she should need to go home at 9pm on a Friday night.

He nodded, finally making eye contact with the waitress and signalling for the bill to be brought over. Gabriella made a show of pulling out her purse to offer to pay or split the bill but Mitchell was a traditionalist and shut down that notion immediately. The traditionalist that he was, he then assisted to pull back her chair, helped her shrug on her coat, and when they reached the exit he held the door open, a hand on the small of her back guiding her to turn to the left on the sidewalk.

"Do you mind a short walk? Maybe five minutes?"

Gabriella shook her head. They'd come straight from work together to dinner and so she was wearing a reasonably comfortable pair of pumps. A few weeks earlier Friday would be her jeans and a blouse day at work; however her casual research Friday had been taken away after picking up the extra class. "That's fine."

They made small talk about the area as they walked along. Gabriella's thoughts wandered a little – it was a little disappointing that she just didn't feel any attraction to Mitchell. He really was a decent guy, polite, said all the right things. He'd been a little self absorbed that evening but he spoke about his work with a passion that she admired, and she knew how easy it could become to get wrapped up in explaining the intricate details of a project that was so intimately close to you.

She hadn't been particularly paying attention as they walked through SoHo – she was pretty sure they'd been heading in the general direction of Greenwich Village. She felt a little embarrassed about her still being disoriented in her own area almost five months after moving to the city, and so wasn't prepared to enquire about their whereabouts. They turned a corner, crossed the road and headed to the right up a street. She creased her brows, the area being a little more familiar.

"We're kind of getting into more of a student area since we're closer to NYU but I had a solid recommendation for a bar and I thought we could go for a drink or two."

She wasn't about to argue about the fact, and in the back of her mind she thought that perhaps away from the stuffy restaurant environment they might be able to forge a little more chemistry, being in an environment less conducive to chatter about work. "Sure," she said agreeably.

It was a sure that she came to regret in about thirty seconds when she realised why the street was familiar – they'd approached from the opposite direction she had in her previous occasions in the area. Mitchell came to a stop outside of a bar that she both loved and feared in equal measure. She was silent as he went straight over to the bouncer. Gabriella was accustomed to still being asked for ID and even as her head was starting to hurt with the possibilities of being in this very bar on a Friday evening, she automatically withdrew her identification from her purse.

"I hear the band that play here tonight are really good," Mitchell said, raising his voice and gesturing over toward the stage area in the corner.

She coughed. "Um yeah... actually I've been here before," she confessed. Lying was not her forte, and pretending that she'd never been there seemed illogical. "They are really good."

Mitchell beamed happily, pleased with his selection. "Excellent, I was worried it might not be your kind of music."

"No uh... I really enjoyed their set last time."

"They're meant to come on at 9:30; I guess that's why the place is pretty packed."

The familiar sight of women matriculating around the stage area assaulted Gabriella's vision. She glanced in the back around the corner from the bar – and out of direct vision from the stage.

"Do you want to try to get a table?" she said, gesturing back in that area.

"Why don't I go get us some drinks and you can try to find a table?" he suggested.

She nodded agreeably, wanting to get away from the area by the door, and informed him of her preference for the house white. With people heading toward the stage area in preparation for the band, she was able to snag one of the back horseshoe shaped booths. There were two available – the other one was one that she was extremely well acquainted with already and was quick to head toward the other. She was pretty satisfied that it would suffice for now – they were out of the vision of the band which was her primary concern. In the few minutes she had spare to herself, she quickly pulled out her compact, checking the small amount of make-up she was wearing and reapplying her lip gloss.

If she was completely honest with herself, it wasn't Mitchell who she was fixing herself up for.

She didn't want to see him.

She didn't want to be near him.

But just in case.

"Okay, so, I just ran into a bunch of guys from one of my classes," Mitchell's voice interrupted her thoughts. "They saw me on my way back over here so it looks like we've been sprung. They said they're in your Intro to Modern Chem class."

Gabriella grimaced. "Great."

"Oh come on, you can't think that they'd expect a hot professor like you to have no life."

"Of course I have a life, it's you who they'd expect to sit hunched over your artefacts all night every night," she teased him.

The irony of her joke being that they both knew that Mitchell had a far more healthy social life than she.

Random one night stands with hot musicians aside.

Any other bar – or even the same bar on a different night – and Gabriella would've actually enjoyed her time with Mitchell. As she'd hoped when she'd agreed to going for a drink, the environment led to him loosening up a bit. He was a nice guy. He was kind and thoughtful and even funny in his own oddball way. He was everything that she should want.

However just around the corner on the other side of the bar, there was some shrieking, followed momentarily by the familiar sound of the opening riff to Burn It To The Ground.

It was a surreal sensation. A man who had such a pull over her was just around the corner performing. Performing in a way which had a spine tingling, captivating affect upon her. She couldn't see him, but she didn't need to see him for the affect to take its hold over her being.

"Wow, you really do like this band, don't you?"

She looked up, realising that she'd ceased communication with Mitchell for she had no idea how many songs. She blushed. "I just think they're very talented."

"We can move up closer if you'd like to watch?" he suggested.

"No!" she yelped, perhaps a little too quickly. Mitchell, rightfully so, appeared a little taken aback. She cleared her throat and repeated more evenly. "No. That's fine. I uh... I like it back here with you."

He grinned, reaching beside him to cover her hand with his and scooting over slightly to sit a little closer. "I like it back here with you too."

She internally grimaced that her comment had come off flirtatiously. She was wary of not wanting to set off mixed signals of any description.

Drew, the lead singer, made an announcement that they would play one more song before taking a short break, and Mitchell gestured toward Gabriella's empty glass. "I might go get us another round now before the crowd descends upon the bar during the break."

She smiled. "That sounds great."

And then, her anonymity flew out the window.

"Gabriella!"

She glanced up in surprise to see Taylor and Sharpay approaching her. It was a welcome surprise – but a complication, given Troy's tendency to come out and say hi to his friends during the break. She stood up, greeting each of the women with a hug.

"What are you doing here and why did you not tell me you were here?" Taylor chided. She hadn't caught up with her newfound friend for over a week.

Gabriella gave her an apologetic look. "Um, I'm here on a date."

Sharpay raised her eyebrows. She'd been present for the last encounter that Gabriella and Troy had had at the bar a couple of weeks earlier; and had been kept in the loop by Chad and Taylor about the interactions they'd witnessed between the pair at the dinner at Gabriella's, revealing an evidently mutual attraction that ran deeper than on a sexual level.

"You brought your date here? On a Friday?"

"He brought me here," she corrected her. "I didn't know that we were coming here and when we were already here I couldn't exactly refuse..." she groaned. "I zoned out before," she admitted in a low voice. "Listening to them..."

"Paying attention to hear the background vocals?" Taylor remarked with a smirk.

Gabriella couldn't deny it. Other than the one night with pizza and too much red wine, she hadn't explicitly referred to her feelings for Troy to Taylor. Explicit referral wasn't necessary. The look on her face the last couple of weeks when she'd been invited to come back to the bar again was enough to say it all. And the expression on her face in that moment as she'd confessed to zoning out – they knew exactly why she'd zoned out.

"I have to get it together," she reprimanded herself. "There's a lovely guy over at the bar getting me a chardonnay and... oh crap he's coming back."

Sharpay and Taylor both glanced behind them, spying a black haired, well groomed man wearing black dress pants, a navy shirt and black jacket carrying a glass of wine and a pint of beer.

"Mitchell," Gabriella greeted him, accepting her glass of wine with a smile. "These are my friends Taylor and Sharpay. Girls, this is Mitchell."

The trio exchanged handshakes and Gabriella went on to explain, "Uh... Taylor is my neighbour, and the girls and their partners went to high school with one of the guys in the band. That's why I said I'd been here before and seen the band."

"You just said you really liked the band, you didn't say that you were friends with someone in the band," Mitchell said, cocking his head. There was something in Gabriella's tone that piqued his attention.

"He's more of a friend of a friend. I've only met him a few times," she said honestly. There was no need to emphasise how intimate those few meetings had been.

"If you guys want to join us..." Mitchell said graciously, gesturing to the space in the rest of the rounded booth.

"Oh, we don't want to intrude," Taylor said. She looked Gabriella in the eyes, trying to determine if said intrusion would be welcome, in which case they would intrude regardless of what Mitchell's true thoughts on the matter were behind the polite, obligatory offer.

"It wouldn't be intruding," Gabriella insisted, that flash in her eyes telling Taylor that their intrusion was not only acceptable, but it was mandatory. However she politely turned back to her date. "As long as you're sure you don't mind?"

"Any friend of Gabriella's is a friend of mine," he declared with a genuine smile at the girls.

"There you guys are! We thought you'd drowned in the..." Chad's voice spoke, and then he trailed off, seeing what the hold up was. "Gabriella! Hey!"

"Hey Chad," she greeted him.

"Chad, Mitchell, Mitchell, Chad," Taylor said, taking care of the introductions.

"Taylor's husband, Gabriella's date," Sharpay elaborated.

Chad's eyes widened. "Gabriella's date?"

He had no tact. Taylor elbowed him. Luckily for Gabriella, Mitchell was clueless to the exchange.

"I was just saying, if you guys all wanted to come join us, you're more than welcome."

Taylor and Sharpay were already sitting, indicating to Chad that the change of location was officially taking place.

"Uh, sure, I'll just go grab Zeke."

Chad wasn't surprised to see Troy and Zeke standing at their regular table around the corner, given Troy's tendency to stop by during their intermission.

"Dude, where are they?" Zeke said.

Chad and Troy exchanged a handshake in greeting. "Uh, they found a friend. Apparently we're relocating." He cleared his throat, and glanced at Troy. "Uh... you might not wanna come over."

Troy's eyes narrowed. "What the fuck? Why not?"

"Uh... why don't you just go worry about finishing your set and we can hang later, yeah?"

"Danforth, don't fuck with me, what are you talking about?"

Troy picked up his bottle of water and stalked in the direction of where Chad had gestured that the girls had headed, in the back area by the round booths. He turned the corner and felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him back, Chad and Zeke just footsteps behind him. Chad sighed and gestured to where Troy needed to look. Troy followed his gesture spotting Sharpay first and then realising what the situation was. His breath hitched. Evidently the friend who Taylor and Sharpay had found was Gabriella; and it wasn't Gabriella alone. She was accompanied by a man whom he didn't recognise but immediately had a strong dislike for. He could only see her top half – a purple silk blouse. It was work appropriate and yet sexy – he knew she'd be oblivious but he was certain that the majority of the males in her classes would sit there with a boner.

"Who the fuck is that?" he seethed.

"Dude, calm down."

"Why the fuck is his hand on her arm?"

"Troy, you've slept with her once. You have no power here."

Troy shifted his glare to Chad. "We did more than just sleep together once."

"Oh right, you had coffee, and helped put her bed together," Chad said sarcastically. "How could I forget?"

"I don't like him."

Chad sighed. "If it helps, I didn't get the vibe that she really does either, for the brief amount of time that I was over there. The fact that the girls have agreed to join tells me that maybe they did their little secret girly communication and Gabriella wanted them to join. "

"Or maybe she wanted to show off the man of her dreams."

Zeke snorted at Troy's bitter wording. "Man of her dreams? Gee Troy."

"Dude, if you go over there and act like a dick, Gabriella isn't gonna think it's charming," Chad said warningly. He was very much so in support of Troy pursuing Gabriella – but only if he was going to do it right.

"When do I ever act like a dick?" Troy asked. Zeke and Chad exchanged looks but didn't say anything. "I'm just going to go over and say hi, that's all. You coming?"

"Troy, I don't know if this is a good idea," Zeke said uneasily. The gossip line was working effectively among their little friendship group and Zeke, just like Sharpay, had been made aware of the complexity of the scenario.

Troy, of course, was stubborn and ignored Zeke, striding straight toward the booth. Gabriella was laughing at something, what he didn't know nor did he really care, all he knew was that when she laughed her eyes lit up in a magical way and her nose crinkled slightly; and that he wasn't happy that she was laughing at something that he had said.

She spotted him before Taylor or Sharpay, the sudden cessation of her laughter and penetrating gaze causing them to also look up.

"Oh look, it's the superstar," Sharpay said.

Troy greeted both Sharpay and Taylor with kisses on the cheek, and Chad introduced Zeke to Mitchell.

"And uh, this is our friend Troy, he's in the band that's playing tonight," Chad said.

Troy extended his hand to Mitchell, gripping on a little tighter than he typically would.

"Great set so far. Haven't really seen much, being back here with Gabriella, but it sounds great," Mitchell said.

Troy smiled politely, not commenting, and instead turning his focus to Gabriella. "Long time no see," he commented, and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek just as he had with Sharpay and Taylor. He lingered a little longer than necessary and murmured by her ear, "Are you going to save me a dance again?"

She couldn't help but shudder ever so slightly at his close proximity; it was a natural reaction beyond her control. She didn't respond to his query, just ducking her head and avoiding direct eye contact. If his background vocals and touch had such an effect on her, looking directly at him was only bound to exacerbate her reaction to him.

"Are you okay?" Mitchell murmured, squeezing her leg under the table.

She nodded. "Uh huh, fine."

"Anyway I have to get back to get ready for the second half of the set but just thought I'd come say hi," Troy said cooly, before adding, "Oh, any requests?"

"Something by Nickelback?" Zeke joked.

Troy smirked, and looked straight at Gabriella. "We might have to do that song you said you loved, beautiful."

"Today Was Your Last Day?" she bluffed, knowing precisely which song he was inferring.

He shook his head. "You'll remember it when you hear it," he said knowing very well that she was bluffing. "I'll be sure to remind you."

She shot him a 'don't you dare' look, to which Troy simply smiled innocently at her, feigning ignorance. With a nod of the head, he departed from the group heading back toward the stage.

It wasn't his ideal location or scenario for encountering her again. The bar was one thing; but the bar when she had a date with her? He appreciated that it was likely awkward for her as well – one look at her body language was enough to indicate the reciprocal awkwardness. What he hadn't been prepared for was the seething jealousy he felt within. One look at Mitchell and he detested the man. Another scenario and for all he knew, they might've been great buddies. He wasn't sure what he was jealous of – he just knew that there was a little part of him inside that was screaming out, "MINE!" when he saw a hand other than his own making contact with Gabriella. He felt a possessiveness toward her which logically, he knew he had no right to; and emotionally he didn't quite understand. But it was there nonetheless.

xxx

The night progressed; the band came back on stage and Gabriella now with her friends around her, was finding the evening a bit more bearable. It turned out that Mitchell's sister had a brief stint at Sharpay's PR firm and his grad school housemate had played basketball with Chad at NYU – as a senior while Chad was a freshman – proving yet again that the degrees of separation in Manhattan were often fewer than one would think. It was actually not only a tolerable environment, but an enjoyable one.

That was, until Mitchell's hand would drape over her shoulder, or squeeze her leg.

Drawing her back to the reality that this was a date; and that a date came with certain expectations.

Including the expectation that you don't sit and fantasise about other men.

"And for our second last song tonight..." Troy's voice spoke into the microphone. "... we're bringing back one of our most popularly demanded tracks. It's a track which I personally dedicate to a very special beautiful brown eyed girl..."

Gabriella was practically chugging her wine as the opening chords of the infamous song that she had played more times on her iPod than she would ever admit sounded. Mitchell was clearly not familiar with the tracks of Dark House outside of those which had been released as singles and as he listened to the lyrics, his face gradually changed to one of recognition as lyric after lyric was sung. By the time the first chorus had finished and the "wonder if I'll ever have it under my tongue..." lyric had sounded, he turned to Gabriella and said dubiously, "This is the song that he dedicates to you? This? To a girl he's only met a few times? I thought you barely knew the guy?"

"Wh... what does it matter how well I know him?" she asked, stammering a little.

"It doesn't really matter, but I'm just confused."

"It's more like a joke than anything else." Sharpay attempted to provide a cover, explaining to Mitchell in a loud voice to be heard over the opening chords of a song which Gabriella had listened to on her iPod more times than she'd like to admit.

"Right."

Mitchell didn't buy it. He was a bright guy, educated, and not naive to the real world. He was putting the pieces together and it didn't offend him so much as it frustrated him that she'd felt the need to lie about it. Everyone came with a past; a past which includes an array of decisions, some good and some bad. Nonetheless he wasn't going to call her on it, the plan was to just leave it be. And so he sighed, glanced at her almost empty glass of wine and enquired, "Do you want another drink, Gabriella?" Mitchell enquired.

She nodded, tipping back her glass and consuming the remainder of the wine. "Please. "

"We'll come with," Chad said, indicating to himself and Zeke, and then turned back to Sharpay and Taylor."The regular rita's?"

"Please," Taylor requested.

He kissed her on the cheek. "Coming right up."

Again the three girls were left alone.

"So... he seems nice," Taylor remarked, referring to Mitchell.

Gabriella groaned, her head falling to the table. "This is utterly ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous. I'm here with this lovely, sweet, charming man but I just don't... I don't feel it. You know? It's just not there. And there's this part of me that really genuinely wants to try to give him a chance but..." her eyes drifted in the direction of the stage area where the band was now playing their final song.

"You'd rather go attack the lead guitarist?" Sharpay said with a smirk.

"Which is not happening. Troy and I... it isn't happening. It's just sexual, nothing more."

"Gabriella... I don't think denying your feelings is going to help," Taylor said softly.

"There is no denying happening, there is nothing to deny," she insisted.

Taylor and Sharpay had briefly discussed the matter after the last Troy and Gabriella encounter. Really they were in between a rock and a hard place. They knew that she liked him. They knew that he liked her – but that perhaps he wasn't quite ready to act upon that. They didn't want her to get hurt, but Troy had been their friend for a long time and they could see that perhaps Gabriella was precisely what he needed in his life.

"Maybe... you should hang out with Troy, like, away from the bar and all the alcohol?" Taylor suggested.

"What, and make myself fall for a man who is emotionally unavailable even more than I already have?"

"I thought you just said it was only sexual," Sharpay said, eyebrows raised.

"Well you know very well that I was lying," Gabriella moaned.

"Here we go, brand new drinks for the beautiful ladies," Chad announced.

Gabriella closed her eyes momentarily, taking a moment to compose herself before Mitchell appeared from behind Chad carrying a beer for himself and a wine for her.

"Thank you," she said, looking up at Mitchell with the most appreciative smile she could muster.

xxx

Across the other side of the bar, for the third time Gabriella had put Troy into a backstage packing frenzy, practically throwing their equipment around as they carried it out the back exit to where Andy had backed his van up to the loading zone.

"Who does this guy think he is? It's their first date and he's got his hand on her thigh," Troy bitched. He was talking to Andy however Steve and Drew of course had their own opinions on the matter.

Steve mockingly gasped. "Did he hold her hand too?" Drew laughed, fist bumping Steve in appreciation of the joke.

"Dude. Settle," Andy admonished Troy. "I know you dig this chick but she's not worth you like, smashing your guitar over. We're not that kind of rock stars."

"Sorry, this is the same chick you've been whining about for weeks, the one who you slept with just hours after meeting her right?" Drew said.

"Completely different. We met in a bar. Different standards apply," Troy insisted. "He works with her."

"So, like, he actually knows things about her and had a pretext for being interested?" Steve said.

"You guys aren't helping me," Troy groaned.

"Who would've thought the day would come that Bolton would be so pussy whipped," Drew smirked.

"Hey, I don't think you're one to judge a man for being pussy whipped," Andy said, referring to Drew's long time girlfriend.

"I'm not afraid to admit that I'm pussy whipped. Troy here is like, practically in love with this girl and he's gonna fuck it up because he won't admit it."

"Woah woah woah, in love with?" Troy said incredulously. "That's a bit..."

"I said practically in love with, don't get your panties in a twist," Drew cut him off.

"Is that everything?" Steve said, referring to their equipment.

They glanced around, confirming that it had all been loaded in and secured.

"I'm heading out. Jam tomorrow?" Andy said, speaking only to Troy.

"I'll text you. Probably for a bit," Troy said with a nod.

With that they went their separate ways – Drew back into the bar to find his girlfriend, Steve to hang out with some friends who had made an appearance there, Andy back to Brooklyn where he had his own social crowd for the night.

And Troy back to stake his claim.

Only stopping to glance in a mirror at his reflection momentarily, he found his way over to the group. In a strike of Troy Bolton luck, he spotted a lone chair by the wall and plucked it up, tacking himself onto the end of the rounded booth, placing the chair down facing away and swinging his leg over to sit backwards.

"Hello again," he greeted them.

Gabriella kept her head ducked as the others greeted him, giving compliments on the set which in reality they'd barely listened to.

"Not enough Nickelback," Zeke chided jokingly.

Troy rolled his eyes. "Believe me, if it was up to me, we'd be doing other stuff. Drew's vocal range is a bit limited though."

Gabriella's head popped up. "Why don't you sing lead more then?" she enquired. "I've heard you sing, I know you could carry it, you could more than carry it."

"That you have heard me sing," he commented with a smile.

"I'm being serious," she said, rolling her eyes.

"If I sang lead, what's Drew meant to do?"

She shrugged. "He's the one who isn't serious about the band. I don't care. He can dance around and play the triangle."

They all laughed at her comment but she was entirely serious, and looking at her, Troy could see her determination to press the issue. "Truthfully we've talked about it... it's complicated," he said. He had no issue with talking to her about it – Chad and Taylor aside, even with only his few meetings with Gabriella, she was probably the person outside of the band with whom he'd shared the most about their inner workings. But it wasn't a conversation to be held in a rowdy bar on a Friday night while surrounded by fans and while two of his band mates were mingling about.

She sensed his unwillingness to talk and instead of reading it as an unwillingness to talk about it there and then, she took it more so as a shut down of the topic completely and felt a little hurt. All of the awkwardness of the present situation and she was doing her best to make the most of it and he was insisting upon not working with her at all.

"So, can I just clarify," Mitchell said. "I know you met Taylor and Chad because they are your neighbours, and you then met Zeke and Sharpay here at the bar?"

"Yes, and Troy as well. Met them all here at the bar," Gabriella responded.

Troy nodded, leaning forward. "That was a while ago. Gabriella and I go way back. I put her bed frame together," he remarked.

Gabriella coughed, sipping on her wine and then taking a longer mouthful.

"Oh, really?" Mitchell said, doing his best to sound disinterested.

"She had it as a mattress on the floor for the longest time, it was entirely unacceptable," Troy said.

"Can't a girl detest putting together flat pack furniture in peace?"

"When was this? I asked you a while ago if you needed any help with your move," Mitchell said.

"Oh, I don't like putting people out," Gabriella insisted – and it was the truth. She'd remembered the casual offer from Mitchell, which she'd taken as being more one of politeness.

"But you put him out?"

"Guess I'm special like that," Troy joked.

By now, Gabriella was literally chugging her wine.

"Wow, you drank that really fast, I like, just brought it back. Trying to get drunk on me are you?" Mitchell commented, eyebrows raised.

"Uh, I guess I was just thirsty," she said, a little embarrassed.

"I can get you some water..." he began to offer

"Here," Troy interjected, handing over his half bottle of water he had on him remaining from the second half of the set. "You can have this. If you don't mind sharing the same mouthpiece, that is. I promise I don't have germs."

Everyone at the table bar Mitchell knew specifically the irony of the remark; and even Mitchell had his suspicions. And if Gabriella was honest with herself, she couldn't deny her childish giddiness at wrapping her lips around the mouthpiece of bottle which he'd been drinking from just moments earlier. She was grateful for the water though – she had been drinking a lot faster than intended and whereas it was calming her nerves, she was a little concerned about loosening her tongue, particularly with Troy in her proximity.

"Speaking of drinks, I might go try to organise a round," Troy said, referring to his connections at the bar. "Margaritas, girls?" Sharpay and Taylor nodded. "Another chardonnay, beautiful? Or perhaps I can organise for an Orgasm... again..."

Mitchell coughed, eyes widening a little.

"You got something in your throat, Mitch? It's just a cocktail. I got her one a while back when we first met," Troy spoke honestly, but with the layers of innuendo there.

"I think I've drank enough for now," Gabriella said, responding to Troy's question and deflecting the conversation away. "I would love a Sprite, though."

"Coming right up."

Chad jumped up and followed Troy to the bar. He had a piece of advice the moment that they were out of earshot

"Dude. Cut the fucking snarkiness," Chad implored.

"I can't help it. This... Mitchell... he brings it out in me."

"She's getting pissed at you. Can't you tell?"

"No," Troy said honestly. "If anything she keeps blushing."

"Followed by looking like she wants to kill you."

The conversation was interrupted by Troy reaching the 'no service' side of the bar, placing his order request and the head bartender informing him that he'd bring them over.

"I have a plan here, don't question the plan," Troy said to Chad, sounding more confident than he felt.

Chad rolled his eyes and decided to drop it.

Gabriella was beginning to wish that she'd found an excuse to leave. She was having fun with her friends – so much fun that she was regretting that she'd been so hesitant to come with them to the bar on Friday nights – and every time that she started to relax, she would be drawn back into the reality of the man seated beside her who was clearly interested. A hand on her knee, a reference to an art exhibit he'd been hoping to go to – setting up a premise for a second date, if she was so inclined.

Problem – she wasn't inclined.

And so she was inching away, remarking that she'd heard that one of their colleagues wanted to go to the exhibit as well. Troy was doing his best to make clear that he wasn't Mitchell's number 1 fan which irritated Gabriella to no end. She was already confused enough, and Troy's behaviour was only exacerbating her confusion.

The music was shifting in the dance track direction, trying to lure people onto the dance floor. Mitchell wasn't too impressed with the change in vibe, and squeezed Gabriella's hand. "By any chance do you want to go somewhere else? Somewhere a little more, I don't know, intimate?"

Troy snorted, overhearing Mitchell's remark. Gabriella ignored Troy and cleared her throat. "I kind of like it here..."

"Oh okay, that's fine. Me too, it's great," he said, lying through his teeth.

She smiled. "It's okay; you don't have to pretend that you like it just for me."

"I just uh... I sort of have a session with my personal trainer at 10 in the morning and I don't cope well if I haven't slept much."

"Oh! You don't have to stay. Please. If you've got an early start don't feel like you have to stay."

"I just want to make sure that you get home safely. It is the gentlemanly thing to do. But if you want to stay..."

"You know what? Um... I live in the opposite direction to you from here, and Chad and Taylor live in the same building as me so I might just share a cab home with them. Be economical and all, save the planet. And then at least you can be sure that I'll get home fine."

"Gabriella's a grown woman, I'm sure she can take care of herself, Mitchie," Troy remarked.

Mitchell ignored Troy – completely. He tipped back his beer, finished the final mouthful, and farewelled Chad, Zeke, Taylor and Sharpay, remarking that he might see them around sometime. Troy glared at Mitchell from behind as Gabriella linked arms with him to walk him outside. In a sudden whim, he leapt up, stalking his way over toward the front windows to spy. Chad followed, not out of interest in spying but rather to make sure that Troy didn't do anything stupid and go out there and make an ass of himself. His behaviour had walked that borderline into a place where any chance he might've had with Gabriella could slip away with one wrong move.

"They're talking," Troy informed Chad.

"People do that sometimes. They talk. It's been known to happen," Chad responded with a roll of the eyes.

"It looks serious... ugh, she can't seriously be into this guy? They look like they're having a 'we should do this again soon' talk. I could've sworn she wasn't into him."

"Again, sometimes men are known to do that – want to see women again. You should try it sometime."

"What do you think I'm trying to do with Gabriella?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, let's see, the only reason you saw her again at all was out of coincidence, every time."

"I invited her to come to the show last time and she came," Troy pointed out, keeping an eye on the conversing Gabriella and Mitchell out the window. He'd now taken her hands in his as they spoke. Troy rolled his eyes in disgust.

"Okay. I'll give you that. And rather than talking to her like a normal person would, you had to act like all you wanted was to get laid again. And what have you been doing tonight? The exact same thing."

"What's wrong with what I've been doing tonight?"

"Making a point to her about that song? Bringing up to her date that you helped put her bed together? Touching her arm and offering to buy her an Orgasm?"

Troy scratched the back of his neck. "Well when you put it like that it sounds pretty... I don't know..."

"Sleazy?" Chad supplied.

"I was gonna say forward."

"Sleazy works better."

Troy was about to respond when he became distracted. "Oh God, he's going in for the kiss. I can't watch." Despite this declaration, he continued to peer out the window.

"You're such a creeper, man."

"He wimped out! Kiss on the cheek!" Troy cheered, pumping his fist. "He's shaking her hand... and he's turning around... he's walking down the street... she's turning around... she's heading back in... oh fuck!" Troy scurried back toward the table that Gabriella and Mitchell had commandeered, Chad chuckling as he followed.

Chad and Troy returned to the booth; the two girls having disappeared and Zeke manning the table.

xxx

Meanwhile, Gabriella had returned to the bar after her farewell with Mitchell outside. She got no further than the front door when Taylor grabbed her by the arm, pulling her aside to where she and Sharpay had been waiting.

"Well?" Taylor said promptly.

"Well, I won't be seeing him again any time soon," she said. Her tone was unable to be read by Sharpay or Taylor.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Sharpay said a little tentatively.

"Not when he declares that he's really into me but he evidently gets the impression that I'm really into someone else and that when I make up my mind about what I want I should call him," Gabriella said with a groan.

"Really into someone else?" Taylor said, raising her eyebrows.

Gabriella gnawed on her bottom lip. "I wasn't really obvious, was I?"

"Really obvious no... but you do get this look on your face and get sort of flushed," Sharpay said honestly.

"Argh! I could kill him."

"Who, Mitchell?"

"No, Troy! What gives him the right to be acting the way that he is? Okay, so he wants to get laid. I get it. He tells me not to give him my phone number. I accepted that. But I can't... I can't handle him doing this!"

"Gabriella. You need to breathe," Taylor said, hands holding down her flailing arms. "Take a deep breath. You've had a few wines. You're emotional. Breathe." Gabriella obeyed, taking in a deep breath and then breathing out and then repeating the action again. Taylor sighed. "I should've been clearer with my warning you about him..."

"No," Gabriella assured her, not wanting her friend to shoulder any sort of burden as a result of her irrational female emotions. "No, you were... you were perfectly clear. He was perfectly clear."

"Do you want to go to a different bar? I'm perfectly happy to ditch my husband and have a girl's night," Taylor suggested. Sharpay nodded in agreement enthusiastically.

Gabriella shook her head. "No. I... he's your friend. And I have to find a way to co-exist with him. First things first – he has to know that this behaviour needs to cease."

"Troy Bolton has needed someone to put him into his place for a while," Sharpay remarked.

Gabriella nodded, feeling the courage surging through her, and marched back over to their table where Troy, Zeke and Chad were having a laugh. With a violent, annoyed glare she thwacked Troy on the arm.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded with a glare.

His mouth dropped open. "What the hell was what?"

"Um, come get drinks with us," Taylor said, tugging on Chad's arm.

"You too," Sharpay said, prodding at Zeke's arm.

Troy glanced at his buddies helplessly. Chad shrugged – he was of the opinion that Troy had made his bed and so it was time that he laid in it.

Still standing hovering over him, Gabriella's hands were now on her hips. "I am not completely ignorant, Troy. Just because we've had sex does not give you the right to make such innuendo filled remarks and to be rude to my date."

Inwardly he swallowed. He knew he'd been walking a fine line; his hope had been that he hadn't crossed it. Evidently she saw otherwise. "I was doing you a favour," he said, keeping a cool exterior. "Obviously you weren't into the guy. Now that he's gone you can have a fun night with us."

"The fact that I wasn't into him shouldn't be of your concern at all."

"If you're admitting that you weren't into him, why do you care what I did or said?"

"Because I have to work with him!" Gabriella said, exasperated.

"He's in a different department," Troy said breezily.

She was frustrated, and snapped, "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Well, Gabriella, I play guitar in this little band..."

"I meant here at this table. Don't you have a blonde to fuck or something?"

He shook his head. "Come on beautiful, you know I prefer brunettes."

"Troy. I think I made my position here clear a couple of weeks ago. The whole having mutual friends thing means that I sort of have to tolerate you. When you're not being a cocky prick you're actually a really great guy and so I think I can handle that. But not if you're going to keep talking like this. So cut the beautiful, cut the references to orgasms, and stop touching my arm like... like..."

"Like this?" he said softly, a hand brushing down her arm causing the involuntary shiver even when she was heated and annoyed with him.

She swallowed. "Yes..."

"I can't help myself. It's like... it's like we're magnets or something. I just feel so drawn to you."

"Drawn to my pussy, you mean."

He almost couldn't believe that the words had come from her mouth – and he was surprised himself by how deep they cut. However regardless of the level of hurt he felt, looking at her in that moment, he was more hurt by the expression on her face. The expression which told him just how sincerely she believed the words to be the truth.

He couldn't deny the sexual attraction, the simple need he felt for her body and her touch and her warmth. It was the deeper level of his need for her which he wasn't quite able to pinpoint – or perhaps rather than an inability to pinpoint it, it was unwillingness.

His lack of a response was all that Gabriella needed in that moment, and she stalked her way over to the bar, arms folded and fingers clenching at her upper arms as she waited her turn.

Just as she was at the front of the bar, she felt a hand grab at her shoulder, glancing behind her to see Taylor. "We got you a cocktail," Taylor informed her.

Gabriella nodded, and nonetheless turned back to the bartender and promptly ordered a shot of tequila which was consumed before the change from her twenty had even been returned. She tossed a couple of one dollar bills onto the wooden bar for a tip and then turned back to Taylor who promptly led her over to where she and Sharpay had found a new tall table.

"What happened?" Taylor asked.

"He's such a cocky jerk," Gabriella seethed, and then sighed. "Fuck I want him. I want him I want him I want him."

"Maybe you just need to get it out of your system? Do it again, and maybe it'll all just float away?" Sharpay suggested.

Gabriella shook her head. "No. That won't work. Because I want him, and then I want to stay and cuddle and do his laundry."

Taylor and Sharpay laughed lightly at the miserable joke, and made sympathetic noises. Gabriella sucked at her drink, the beverage quickly being consumed.

"Maybe I just need to go home and..."

"Have a night in with your bunny?" Sharpay supplied.

"My bunny? I don't have a bunny. I was thinking about getting a fish," Gabriella said naively.

"Oh honey, you don't have a bunny?" Sharpay said, eyes widening. "Maybe that's a part of the problem here."

Gabriella still appeared clueless and turned to Taylor for clarification as she sucked on the straw in her frozen margarita. Taylor coughed, and lowered her voice, "Sharpay is referring to a vibrator, Gabriella."

A cough and a splutter was the response, Taylor patting Gabriella on the back to quell her coughing fit.

"Okay, you know what? You don't need him, or any man to enjoy yourself and have a good night," Taylor declared.

"Him, any man or any bunny," Sharpay added.

"Need... no. But he'd certainly help," she said with a groan

"Wrong. He would not help. Let's down this drinks and go dance," Taylor insisted.

It was fun, carefree, liberating; to dance with the girls and shake and shimmy and move in time to the rhythm of the beat. They'd danced to three songs, and just as the song switched from being fast paced to more rhythmic, she felt a hard, warm body press up behind her, hands firmly grasping a hold of her hips. It was a body that she craved each and every night - and sometimes during the day. There was no question as to who it was. She didn't need to turn her head to identify him – but nonetheless she glanced back over her shoulder, gaze meeting his penetrating, soulful stare.

"You look amazing tonight," he breathed into her ear.

"I came straight from work," she murmured in response, clearly deflecting the compliment.

He shook his head, not willing to take the deflection. Eyes glancing down at her tight grey pencil skirt, he definitely approved. "Sexy."

"I shouldn't be doing this."

"It's about more than your pussy," he murmured.

She closed her eyes. "What do you want from me?"

"In this moment, I want to dance."

She didn't know when Taylor and Sharpay had drifted away from the dance floor. She couldn't recall specifically which songs played. Her body reacted to him. It was as though there was some chemical in the air, some intangible force that called out to her, spoke to her, sang to her. Her brain told her to pull away from him. Her foolish heart wanted to hold on tight and keep him close.

"Gabriella..." he murmured, lips hovering unbearably close to hers.

She drew in a sharp breath, head turning just as he swooped in, his lips instead coming to contact with her cheek. She could feel his sigh of aggravation, breath tickling against her face. She tried to move, to step away from him before she melted like putty in his talented hands.

It took two words.

"Please stay."

She couldn't deny his request.

She couldn't pull away from his grasp.

Her resolve was crumbling. His warm hand had crept its way beneath the hem of her purple blouse and was rubbing at the smooth skin of her taut stomach. She felt a stirring in her lower abdomen, a stirring of desire. Her hands reached behind her, fingers raking through the chestnut tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck. Her eyes were closed but they fluttered open momentarily, taking in the throng of people on the dance floor. Somewhere out of her peripheral vision she spotted Taylor and Chad to the side of the dance floor – unbeknownst to her, having a flurried discussion about whether to intervene. Taylor was concerned about Gabriella's judgement and the ramifications. Chad believed that Troy was just having trouble admitting it but he really did care for her. Just the vision of Taylor from afar was enough to nudge Gabriella's senses into coming into play.

"I can't do this," she breathed; her actions in direct contradiction with her words, her fingers threading through his hair a little firmer and her hips grinding back to come into contact with his hardening length.

He groaned, and begged, "Don't say that." She turned around within his hold, his hands maintaining a grasp upon her hips. Her hand cupped his chin, fingers stroking over the roughness which covered his perfect facial features. He pulled her in towards him, head dipping and his lips pressing a soft kiss to her cheek before murmuring in her ear. "Please don't say that."

"You've got girls all around us who would give a limb to spend the night with you. Why are you insisting on pursuing this?"

"I can't explain it Gabriella but I... I just... there's something here."

"Something? What is this something?"

He swallowed. "I don't know."

She knew herself well enough to know that as much as she wanted to not care – she did care. She cared more than she'd ever wanted to. And nothing had changed between now and last time they'd done this exact same dance of desire.

"If you don't know... then I can't." She turned away from him, tearing herself from his grasp and hightailed in the direction of the doorway.

Troy stared after her, almost crashing into a glassie in her flurry.

Last time, he'd let her leave.

Last time, he'd regretted it.

This time, he wasn't going to have any regrets.

"Gabriella!" he called, darting after her.

Being small was an advantage in slipping through the crowd and she'd had a head start. He reached the exit and came out on Sullivan Street, looking to the right and then to the left. He spotted her up ahead and tore after her, darting out into the road to avoid the throng of Friday night pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk. She was just outside of Peanut Butter & Co when he reached her, grabbing onto her arm a little rougher than he'd intended.

"Gabriella," he pleaded. "Don't run from this."

She halted her movements, turning round to face him. "Tell me what 'something' is; and I'll stop running."

He swallowed. "I... I don't know. I can't... I just..." He groaned, warm hands grasping at her hips. "It's more than what it started as. Is that enough? God, can't that be enough?"

He was desperate. He needed her. He needed her in more ways than he'd ever craved any woman before. He pulled her toward him, leaning down, the warmth of his forehead pressing to hers. She inhaled suddenly, impossible to be immune to the close proximity of his lips by hers.

"You told me months ago to not mistake who and what you are. I... there's this part of me that believes you aren't that person, you aren't who you're claiming to be. I don't know if it's wishful thinking or a good intuition. But until you can..." she shook her head. She looked him in the eye. "Don't mistake who I am. I feel something too. But something for me is probably different than something for you and... and..."

And she didn't want a broken heart.

"I was him," he said honestly. "I'd... I'd become that guy. But you..." he let out a half groan half sigh. "I don't know what something is. What I do know though is that I wanna spend more time with you. I don't... the idea of you walking away from me tonight and me not knowing when I might see you again... I... I don't like that."

She was still. She wasn't withdrawing, she wasn't trying to move away. Her eyes were closed, attempting to breathe evenly as he remained hovering over her. She felt him move slightly, a moment later his lips pressing to her right cheek, then to her left cheek, and then a soft, sweet kiss to her lips.

"Let's go somewhere and have a drink. Or coffee. Or ice-cream. Or pizza. Or whatever you want. Let's go... let's go hang out.," he requested pleadingly. "We don't have to... it doesn't need to be about..." he trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence – but she understood the meaning. The way that she was feeling, any more exposure to him whether it be in the dirtiest of pizza parlours or over an intimate drink – she wasn't going to have much more willpower to resist him and she'd be the one dragging them into a cab and getting them into whichever apartment was closer. She opened her eyes, pulling back slightly to gaze straight into his. He sounded and appeared entirely sincere.

She swallowed, and boldly dipped her hand into his right pocket where she could see his phone, fingers grasping around his iPhone and pulling it out. He was silent, watching with slightly widened eyes as she held it up to him, showing him what she was doing as she was doing it.

She programmed her number into his phone.

"If you want to see me... you're going to have to call me," she said, looking him in the eye. "It doesn't have to be for a date. But you're going to have to call me."

He gulped. He'd told her that he didn't call.

It was a test.

"Can I walk you home?" he requested.

She shook her head. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because if I spend any longer in your presence... you will be that guy who I wake up and regret the next morning. And whatever this something is... whether it becomes something more or doesn't, whether you call or don't call – I don't ever want to regret you."

Wordlessly, he released her from his grasp. He watched her as she stepped out onto the street, succeeding in hailing a cab almost instantly.

He watched her leave.

He glanced down at his cell, flicking through to his contacts, staring at her number. A number he'd never wanted but now he treasured more than anything.

The power was all in his hands.

And he'd never been more terrified.

xxx

A dirty word.

Nickelback – S.E.X.