Jayden saw stars, and turned an even more unhealthy shade of green as the waterfall that had been crashing down around him disappeared, but Carter Blake stayed exactly where he was.

Oh fuck, he is real!

"Wh' the Hell do you think you're doing?" Jayden slurred, all too aware that his recent withdrawal symptoms would make Blake think he was stoned. "Why'd you slam my head against the..."

Blake clouted him round the head. Hard. "I just saved your life, Norman. And I'm beginning to wish I hadn't bothered. Now, you're going to give me some answers, and you're going to give me them now."

Jayden looked at him with contempt. "You can't beat a confession out of everyone, Blake." He paused, seemingly confused. "And why the fuck have you got sick in your beard?" Carter glared at him.

"Take a guess, genius. After all, you are the brilliant FBI agent." Jayden mumbled something under his breath that Blake didn't quite catch, and he couldn't be bothered to ask.

"Right. So if you're not going to give me any answers, at least answer one question for me. You're stoned, and I've got a dislocated ankle. How the fuck are either of us going to get home?"

"...Not stoned." mumbled Jayden.

"So... you're not stoned, but you fell over in the middle of the road for no reason, stopped breathing, puked all over me and yourself, and keep slurring your words. Yeah, makes perfect sense."

"Whatever, Blake. Just leave me alone, will you?" Jayden said, standing up shakily, and getting into his car. "Thank God I puked on you and not in the car..." Jayden mused. "It's a rental, and I don't have a spare fifty bucks to get it cleaned."

Stunned at this un-Jayden like comment, Blake was just about to bark out an insult, when Jayden pulled his sick-stained shirt off over his head, and tossed it out of the car.

"Get this fucking shirt off my head!" Blake yelled. Norman turned round, and couldn't suppress a small laugh.

"Oh, but Carter, it matches your beard!" (He was still a little giddy from the last withdrawal.) Carter pulled the shirt off his head.

"Fuck you, Norman."

"Aww, I like you too, Carter." Jayden snorted, through a fit of the giggles.

"Shut up you idiot, you're drunk."

"M' not drunk. Only had 2 beers.... And a whiskey."

Carter stared at him in disbelief. "Well, I always figured you one not to be able to hold your liquor, but 2 beers and a whiskey is ridiculous. Mind you..." he sneered, "Being a good-for-nothing stoner probably does nothing for your sobriety."

"Shurrup Carter. You said yer ankle's broken. Do you wanna lift or do you wanna run your mouth off?" Carter shut up. While he most certainly didn't want a lift with that jerk Norman Jayden, it was the only way he had of getting out of this lay-by. While Faye could probably pick his car up if he rung her, that wouldn't be for hours yet, she didn't finish at the soup kitchen until it got dark. And it was starting to rain... Carter sighed.

"Fine. Call it part payment for saving your scrawny neck. And for Christ's sake, put your bloody shirt on."