A/N: Here it is! Apologies in advance if the drunkenness and seduction is really, really...crap (for the want of a better word...) They're really not my areas of expertise.

Now...I proposition for you all. On Friday, I will be celebrating the end of my exams (woohoo - my blood pressure will now be returning to healthy levels...) So, if you guys are really good to me, and if you really want me to, I will upload an extra chapter on Friday. Well, make that Saturday. I'm going out Friday night as a celebration and I'm not sure what time I'll be in. If you want, I'll give you an extra chapter on Saturday :)

Enjoy :)

Chapter 8

"I'm off, Dad," Andy called. He paused. No reply. "Dad! I'm leaving."

"I heard you the first time," Troy exclaimed as he appeared with a pan of spaghetti. "Steph, you won't be mean to me, try this. It's a new recipe. Please?" He held a wooden spoon out for her.

She laughed and tasted it. "Wow. I'm impressed, Uncle Troy. What got you cooking?"

Troy glanced at Andy who was covering his eyes. "Boredom, really. I don't have anything to do tonight."

"I said," Andy muttered in exasperation, "you could come with us."

"And watch you be all googly eyes with each other, no thanks," Troy exclaimed.

"Uncle Troy," Steph began.

"Dad, we're not going out," Andy exclaimed.

Eager to break the awkward silence, Steph said, "Andy said Gabriella wasn't too well today. Is she okay?"

Troy shrugged. "Who knows? I don't know what was wrong with her, she wasn't any better when she went home, I just hope she's cooled off before tomorrow."

Steph nodded. "Well, tell her I hope she gets better."

Troy smiled. "Will do. Now go, the pair of you."

"Finally," Andy exclaimed. "I don't know what time I'll be home. Don't wake up for me, okay?"

"Got your keys?" Steph asked.

Andy patted his pockets and dashed over to pick his keys up from the coffee table. "Now I do."

Troy rolled his eyes. His son was oblivious as to how much he needed Steph in his life.

Steph shook her head to herself. "What would you do without me?"

"Get locked out, obviously," he joked. "See you later, Dad." He led Steph out of the block of flats and out into Scarborough town, crisp with the ocean air. "Where do you want to go?"

She rolled her eyes to herself. He asked the same thing whenever they went out together. "I'm surprised you even asked."

Andy laughed and let her loop her arm through his. "Ah, Steph. The Duchess is our place. We could own somewhere similar years from now, you know."

"You and me?" Steph asked incredulously. "You mean the marine biologist obsessed with starfish and a mechanic working in his dad's garage who is weirdly obsessed with maths?"

Andy laughed. "Why not? We'd make a good team, wouldn't we?"

"I'm not denying that," she protested as Andy held the door open. She stepped through into the dim bar area of The Duchess. "But, come on. We don't know how to run a pub together."

He winked at her. "It's called an adventure, Steph, lighten up." He frowned and tilted his head to see behind her. "Is that...Is that Gabriella?"

They stepped forward until they stood each side of her. A glass of wine was in one hand and her chin was resting in the palm of her other. "Oh, Andy," she slurred. "You're here."

He glanced at Steph. "Yeah. I'm here. Steph's with me."

Gabriella turned and forced a smile. "Hey. I remember you. You're the nice lady who told me that Troy would loosen up. And he did." She erupted into giggles and downed her glass of wine. She waved the empty glass at the bartender.

Steph nodded slowly. "Well, I know my Uncle Troy and I'm glad you've settled in. Gabriella!" She took the new glass of wine out of her hand.

Gabriella attempted to reach for it but her vision blurred and she grasped thin air. "Steph," she pointed a wavering finger at the younger woman, "I may be drunk, but I'm older and therefore wiser."

Andy snorted. "Right now, Gabriella, we're both a hundred times smarter than you. Don't you think?" He sighed and sat down next to his dad's employee. "What brought this on?"

Gabriella's smile slipped and she squinted to see him. "You don't care," she muttered, turning away. "I need the wine," she cried, reaching for the glass in Steph's hand.

Steph moved the glass away. "Alright, executive decision: we're taking you home."

Gabriella frowned. "I don't want to," she whined. "My home is lonely and sad. I'm all by myself. Steph, listen to me," she slung her arm around Steph's neck, "life is shit. Life is a joke. You get to a point when you realise that God is a cruel person and we're all puppets on a string." She shrugged half heartedly. "Trust me on that one."

Steph sighed. She looked at Andy. "You're positive that your dad doesn't have any plans?"

Andy frowned as he took Gabriella's hands to stop her reaching for the wine. "No. I think he'll be watching Top Gear all evening."

Steph nodded. "Right. Well, we'll take her back to your place. We can't leave her like this, can we? If we take her to her place, she'll just drink herself to death."

"That's not a bad idea," Gabriella slurred.

Andy sighed. "Alright, Gabriella, you're coming with us." He waved the barman over. "Has she paid?"

The barman shook his head. "Afraid not."

Andy sighed and took his wallet out. "How much?"

"Twenty five pounds, thirty pence."

"This isn't what I imagined when I pictured a night on the town with my best friend," he muttered as he threw a few notes on the bar. "Keep the change." He slid the wallet into his back pocket and stood up. He brought Gabriella's arm around his shoulders and got her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Come on, Gabriella. Let's get you home."

Gabriella frowned. "I don't want to." Tears sprang into her eyes, dripping down her cheeks. "Why can't you leave me alone?"

Steph took her other arm. "Listen, Gabriella, Uncle Troy will be there."

Gabriella sniffed. "Troy? Really?"

Steph shrugged. "Yeah. He'll be there."

Her eyes seemed to light up a little bit. "Oh. Well, maybe I should go there," she mumbled into Andy's shoulder.

"Dad," Andy called, "we need your help."

Troy rushed into the hallway and frowned. "Gabriella?"

She giggled and threw herself into his arms. He caught her and helped her catch her balance. "Troy," she murmured, looking into his eyes, "you smell nice. Like my mother's cooking."

"Andy, why is she here?" Troy asked sternly and Gabriella pressed her cheek to Troy's chest.

Steph sighed. "We found her at the pub. We didn't know what to do."

"Gabriella," Troy said sternly as he held her at arm's length. She swayed a little bit but then seemed to focus on him. "Why would you do this? Why would you drink?"

She looked away. "You don't understand," she spat. "You don't care about me. You only care that I'm able to work tomorrow."

Troy frowned. "Andy, I think you should walk Steph home."

"Well, I can walk home by myself," Steph offered.

Troy shook his head, still staring at Gabriella. "No, Andy will walk you home. Won't you, Andy?" He turned away from Gabriella to glare at his son.

"Yeah," Andy muttered. "Come on, Steph."

Once they had left, Troy turned back to Gabriella. She was swaying from side to side, humming to herself. "Gabriella?"

She turned to him. "Troy?" she giggled.

He sighed and took her hand, taking her to his bedroom. He sat her down and paced in front of her. He knelt down in front of her, touching her hand. "I don't get it. You're not a drinker, I can tell. Why would you do this?"

Instead of answering, Gabriella crawled up the bed and buried her face into Troy's pillows.

"Gabriella," he called as he sat down next to her on the bed. "Why won't you talk to me?"

She rolled over to face him, trying to focus her vision on him. "Because that's boring," she muttered. She reached out for his shirt and brought him closer. "Let our bodies do the talking."

Troy's eyes widened and he stumbled off of the bed, out of her grasp. It was bad enough that he was attracted to her, being tempted to take advantage of her when she was at her most vulnerable time would be evil. "No," he said sternly. "You don't want that."

"How do you know?" she mumbled.

"Because I do," he said softly. Not exactly a convincing reason but it had worked miracles when Andy had been growing up. Seeing Gabriella like this made him feel like an inexperienced parent all over again. "Get some sleep."

Her eyes fluttered closed and a moment later, quiet, breathy murmurs filled the room.

Gabriella groaned as she stumbled out of the bedroom, clutching her head. She squinted around at the unfamiliar living room. "Where am I?"

Troy waved over from the kitchen. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

Gabriella groaned as she approached him and sat on one of the stools at the island counter. "Please don't shout at me."

Troy smiled to himself as he stood up and switched the kettle on. "Rough night?"

"What did I do last night?" she whispered.

"Well," he began conversationally, "you tried to seduce me."

Gabriella rubbed her eyes. "Oh my God. I'm sorry, I don't remember." She faltered. "Did we...I mean, we didn't..."

Troy tried not laugh.

"It's not funny," she whined. "My head feels like it's about to explode and I don't remember anything from last night."

Troy poured her a cup of black coffee. "In answer to your question, no we didn't do anything. I slept on the couch." He slid the coffee towards her. "Now drink up. It'll make you feel better. Trust me: Andy says that black coffee is a miracle if you're hungover."

Gabriella slid off of the stool and began opening random cupboards. "No thanks. Have you got something stronger?"

"What?" Troy muttered.

She sighed and turned to him. "Lager, beer, vodka...you're two men living together. You can't tell me you don't have any alcohol."

Troy shook his head and stepped towards her. "Brie, this is the hangover talking. You don't want or need any more alcohol than you had last night. It won't do anything. If anything, you'll poison yourself and die."

"Then let me," she yelled, instantly regretting it. She leant against the counter, pressing her palm to her forehead. "You don't care," she muttered.

Troy stepped towards her and cupped her cheeks in his large, capable hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Don't you dare say that," he whispered. "I care about you more than I'm willing to admit."

She swallowed, hard, suddenly conscious of how close they were to each other. She'd tried to seduce him last night. Well, a drunk person's actions and words were a sober person's thoughts.

So what did that mean, exactly? Did she actually want to sleep with him?

No!

She twisted out of his arms and stood on the opposite side of the kitchen. "Where's the alcohol?"

Troy knew all about hangovers. He'd had his fair share and he could still remember Andy's very first hangover. It was like death. Your brain became a marching band and you were willing to do anything to make it stop. After trial and error, he had discovered that a few aspirin and a few mugs of black coffee cured it enough to go about the day just fine. But alcohol? That was a recipe for disaster. After the amount that Gabriella had last night, she was on her way to poisoning herself.

Maybe all of the Spanish curse words and the feminist exterior was exactly that: an exterior. A shield. A protector. What if she was much weaker than she wanted to admit? What if she appeared so strong and capable so that people wouldn't get close? Troy, of all people, knew that when people were close to you, you were vulnerable.

"Gabriella," he said sternly, "stop it. You don't need that stuff."

She glared at him. "How do you know? You don't know anything about me."

"Then tell me," he exclaimed.

"I'm an alcoholic," she cried. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she had to grip the counter behind her to stop her knees from giving way. "Is that what you want to know?" She looked at him then, before having to avert her gaze. "I'm an alcoholic."

"Hey," Andy greeted. "Gabriella, it's nice to see you awake."

Before Gabriella could respond, Troy tossed a set of keys at Andy. "Sorry, Son, you'll have to open the shop yourself."

Andy frowned. "Why? I have to study for a seminar."

Troy glared. "Well, do that at the garage. Look, Gabriella's not very well and I need to keep an eye on her."

Andy glanced at Gabriella who was crying silently and looking intently at her hands, that she was compulsively ringing together. "But, Dad, I don't know what to do. I fix cars, sure, but I don't know how to run that place."

Troy sighed. "Look, your Uncle Jamie will be in at about ten, call your Grandpa and ask him to help. Jamie knows what needs doing on the cars that are already there. All you have to do is cope with any calls you have today or walk-ins. Basically, tell them that I'll get back to them. If someone's broken down, ask Jamie to go, okay?"

Andy rolled his eyes but nodded. "Sure. Get well soon, Gabriella."

Once Andy had shut the door, Troy stepped forward and, without thinking, brought her into his arms. Instead of her pushing him away like he'd expected, she clung to him as if her life depended on it. Troy considered that; she'd wanted to keep drinking. She'd yelled at him, claiming that she would've quite happily drunk herself to death. So, in that respect, she literally was clinging to him for dear life.

He didn't know what to say. Saying 'its okay' seemed futile somehow. Then again, not saying it seemed even worse. What did you say when your newest employee, and, coincidentally, the woman you felt some sort of attraction for, told you that she was an alcoholic? How do you respond to that? Troy had mostly lived a sheltered life. Except for the dramas surrounding Andy's mother, Troy lived one day to the next. He'd never done drugs, he'd never smoked a cigarette and he'd only been in trouble with the police once, in a different life.

So he'd drunk before. He'd woken up in his bed, still clothed, wondering how the hell he'd made it home. He'd been sat in one of his A Level classes, feeling as if he was on the brink of death with hangovers after a party on a school night. But, he'd never been an alcoholic and he'd never met an alcoholic.

It's what society does to you, he realised. He'd expected alcoholics to be people who were violent, who wore scruffy clothes, and always smelt of alcohol. Namely, they were obvious, like they had 'alcoholic' tattooed on their forehead. But Gabriella...she was down to earth and hardworking. She made him smile when she was angry because she'd mutter in Spanish as if she expected him to know what she was saying. True, she wasn't an open book but he hadn't thought anything of it. He wasn't exactly inviting her to know his life story.

Gabriella was a lot of things. But, alcoholic didn't spring to mind.

He pulled back from their embrace and looked into her eyes. Her chocolate orbs were always so bright and warm. But, today, with dark circles beneath her eyes, tear stains on her cheeks, and her eyes were red and puffy, she looked like a little girl, who was woken up by a nightmare.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked before he sighed. What kind of question was that? How creative.

She shrugged. "It's not something I rush to put on job applications." She stepped around him and sat on one of the island stools. "I'm so sorry that you had to find out this way. I'm fired, aren't I?"

Troy frowned as he sat down opposite her. "Hold up. Where did that come from? I didn't say those words, you did. Gabriella, I didn't want to fire you last night and I don't want to fire you now. You have a problem. So what? Everybody does. I just want to help."

She looked across at him. "It's not easy to know an alcoholic, you know. As we're talking right now, it's taking all of my power not to rip open those cupboards in search of the alcohol I know you have."

"How do you know I have some?" Troy asked curiously.

"Maybe I'm stereotyping," she muttered. "Two men living together...I kind of figured..."

Troy sighed. "Why don't you go and take a bath or something and calm down? Then, when you come out, if you want, we can talk."

"So, how's Gabriella?" Steph asked conversationally. She pretended to be fixated with her textbook, but in reality, she was just avoiding Jamie's eyes. She didn't know why, but he seemed angry. And he was unintentionally directing it at her.

Andy shrugged. "I don't know," he snapped. "Dad said she wasn't well and forced me to open this place for him." He angrily flipped the page and she was surprised the book didn't tear in two.

She sighed. "You can't blame him. He's taking care of her. You're the one who wants them together."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, it's all very well when it isn't preventing me from getting my degree."

Steph looked at him incredulously. "Uncle Troy's not preventing you from getting your degree. He's helping her. She needs him. It's not like he's asked you to skip a lecture, is it?"

He rolled his eyes. "I knew you'd side with him."

"I'm siding with him because you're being a drama queen and making a mountain out of a molehill," she exclaimed. "You've been in a bad mood ever since I got here and it's not right."

He frowned at her. "So she had a hangover, so what? We've all had hangovers. But we get up, take some aspirin and move on."

Steph sighed. "You don't know that that's the only thing wrong, do you? You don't know what caused her to get drunk last night. It must be serious because Uncle Troy never takes a day off." Before he could respond, she was already talking again. "So, what's this really about? You don't judge people, you think the world of Gabriella, and, right now, you've been studying maths for about forty five minutes. You're always happy when you're studying maths."

Andy threw his pen down. "Damn you. You know me too well."

She reached for his hand. "So what is it? Tell me."

He shrugged. "I don't know. It's weird. Dad's never blown me off for a woman before. It kind of hurt a little bit."

Steph shook her head. "Andy, Uncle Troy would never blow you off and he hasn't blown you off. He's helping Gabriella. Isn't that the important thing?"

He sighed and leaned closer to her. "I'm so sorry Steph. You're always the one who clears my head when nobody else can."

She shrugged modestly. "It's no big deal. Everybody needs some space from their family, you know." She realised how close they were. Their noses were almost touching and she could feel his gentle breaths whisper against her skin. It wasn't the first time they'd been that close. They'd been friends their whole lives. They'd whispered in class, it was a common occurrence for Steph to fall asleep on his shoulder whilst watching a film, and she'd never been afraid of him before. But, now, she was terrified. She was terrified of where it might lead, what he might do, and how it might end.

"Even you?"

"Even me," she whispered.

Before anything could happen, a rather loud "Gabriella!" rang through the garage.

Andy and Steph sprang apart. Andy leapt up to greet the people and Steph was determined to look anywhere but at Andy.

A confident blonde strode towards him. "Hi, I'm Sharpay. This is my husband, Zeke." She gestured to the African-American man beside her. "We're friends of Gabriella. Where is she?"

Andy extended his hand. "I'm Andy, Troy's son. Gabriella is still at my dad's flat. He was pretty worried and wouldn't let her go. She seemed in a pretty bad state when I left."

Zeke frowned. "Why is she at Troy's place?"

Andy glanced at Steph. "We found her drunk last night. We took her back to my dad's because we didn't know what else to do."

Sharpay stepped forward. "She was drunk?" she asked slowly.

"Like a fish," Andy explained.

Before she could respond, Zeke stepped forward to touch her shoulder. "Pay, don't worry, she's with Troy. She's fine."

"Where do you live?" she asked quietly.