A/N: Yes, it's late. Sue me. (it's okay...Mike will defend me :) ) Anyway...college does this thing called eating your life. So...there's that as an excuse.
Disclaimer: Again, not mine.
Jenny was staring at her phone. She had just gotten through listening to the message that Mike had left for her…and now she wasn't sure if she felt worse or better than before. Watching him disappear into that cab with the pretty paralegal had made her want to punch him in the face just a little bit. She'd caught a cab just a few minutes afterwards and had regaled the mostly non-english speaking cabbie with the tale of her terrible evening. He's responded with a "hmmm."
She'd gone up to her apartment, alone, and had fallen asleep fully-clothed on top of the sheets. Now, she was awake in the early light of the morning and looking down at her phone. She put it on speakerphone and replayed the message on it.
"Hey, uh, Jenny…" His familiar voice bubbled out of her phone and she threw herself down on the bed, pulling a pillow over her head. "I just wanted to say sorry for how tonight worked out." He sounded sorry too, his voice low and mournful. "Rachel's just a friend." She bit her lip hard at the mention of Rachel. "I just wanted to help her out."
"Shut up, Mike!" Her voice was muffled under the pillow, but no less angry.
"So…maybe I could take you out to dinner some time." He sounded sheepish and reluctant, offering her a consolation prize. "Anywhere you want to go, just call me…"
And then, Rachel's voice. "Mike…" The word was long and drawn out. Where had they been? In the cab still or had he taken her back to his apartment? She didn't even want to know. "Mike…I'm cold." And how had he warmed her up? Jenny let out a long, drawn out sigh.
"I'm sorry…" She heard Mike's voice and she wanted to scream. Of course he was sorry…he was always sorry. Why did he have to be such a good person? Any other guy that she knew would have either left Rachel on the floor or would have brought her home and slept with her. She knew that Mike hadn't done that. He wouldn't…right?
She didn't know anymore. Jenny wasn't the the sort of girl who hung out with lawyers. She wasn't the sort of girl who dated into New York's social elite. Rachel was. Rachel knew the classiest restaurants, the best bars, the best way to talk to everyone. Even though she'd met the girl once and she'd wasted…Jenny could tell. She was one of the super-smart sorts. She was on Mike's level, she fit his new lawyer status. And Jenny didn't.
It hurt to think about. So, she stopped and picked up the phone. It rang twice and then…
"Hello?" A familiar male voice sounded at the other end.
"Hi." She twisted a strand of blond hair through her fingers. "It's Jenny."
"Jenny?" He sounded surprised. "I didn't think you wanted to hear from me after what happened…"
"I miss you, Trevor." She sighed into the phone. "I needed to talk to you."
"I miss you too, Jen." Trevor's voice was heavy with sleep. "So much."
Jenny was silent for a moment, her lower lip trembling. "Look," She said finally. "What you did was wrong. And I know that things between us ended bad, but…" She swallowed. "I just miss you."
"I'm sorry." Trevor's voice cracked. "I know I should have said it a lot sooner, but…"
"Don't." Jenny cut him off. "I have to go now, but I…" She took a breath. "I care about you. A lot."
"I love you, Jenny." He said.
"Goodbye, Trevor." She hung up before she said something dumb and dialed Mike's number. If Mike was allowed to care about a girl that wasn't her…she was allowed to care about Trevor.
Mike Ross opened his eyes abruptly and for a moment was very, very confused. He was in his bed and…someone else was to. "Jenny?" His voice was husky with sleep. "Is that…" He trailed off as he saw chestnut brown hair spreading over his sheets and the nights of last night came rushing back. "Oh, shit." He muttered. Rachel Zane was pressed against his side, a hand flung over his chest, clad in nothing but under ware and one of his t-shirts.
He attempted to extract himself from his current predicament without waking her. If he could get out of here before she woke up, he could go lie on the couch and pretend that he'd been there the whole time…
No such luck. Her hazel eyes flew open as he ducked under her arm. "Mike?" Her voice was rough and slightly horrified. "Oh, my head…"
"Oh, God…" He put a hand on her back. "Rachel…how do you feel?"
"Like I did in college." She put her hands on either side of her head. "What happened?" She looked down and seemed to realize her current state of undress. "Oh, God…" She looked up at him. "What did we do?" Her voice rose to a shout. "What happened, Mike?"
"Nothing, Rachel!" He slipped away from her and got out of the bed. She pulled the sheets over herself. "You know me…I wouldn't do anything like that."
"Mike…" Her voice was somewhere between contrite and angry. "I don't remember anything from last night. What happened?"
"Uh, you drank an entire bar?" Mike tried unsuccessfully to keep the anger out of his voice.
"Why am I in your apartment?" She looked around. "This is your apartment, right?"
"Yes, Rachel." He sat down on the edge of the bed. "You fell on the floor and couldn't remember where you lived. Does that ring any bells?"
"No bells, please." She collapsed down on the bed and pulled a pillow over her head. "I'm dying."
"Shut up." He said, but there was no venom in his voice. "I'm going to take a shower…stay there."
"Uh…" Was her response.
"Right." Mike left her collapsed on the bed.
Rachel was close to back asleep when the phone rang. "God…" She let out an angry, huffy sound. She reached for the phone without looking to see whose it was or who was calling.
"What?" She threw the word into the phone angrily.
"Mike?" A female voice answered and Rachel cursed inwardly. It must be Jenny…she thought she remembered seeing the blond last night, dressed in orange. "Mike, is that you?"
"Uh, no." Rachel did battle inwardly for a second before deciding what to say. "Wrong number!" She shouted finally, throwing the phone back onto the nightstand as if it were a venomous spider.
A moment later, the phone rang again. Rachel sat on the bed, staring at it. "Stupid Jenny." She muttered. It bothered her immensely that Mike had a girlfriend that was pretty, nice and generally likable. Rachel wasn't pretty…she was beautiful, hard and polished like a diamond. Some people loved it…others didn't. She wasn't nice, she'd never been nice. She was cold and witty and sharp. Jenny was everything that she wasn't, everything that a guy like Mike deserved.
She threw her legs over the side of the bed, intending to get up, when he stomach lurched violently. "Shit!" She shouted and tore off to find a garbage can.
Mike walked back into his bedroom, dressed in jeans and a shirt, and ran a hand through his still damp hair. "Rachel?" He peered around the door. She was nowhere in his bed. "Rachel?" He got up, running a hand through his hair.
"You really should invest in some better suits." A musing voice came from his closet.
"Rachel?" He skirted around the bed and looked over at the closet. She was standing there, dressed in one of his white button-up shirts, and examining one of his suits.
"It would help people take you more seriously." She wouldn't look at him.
"Why are you wearing my shirt?" He recognized it as the one he'd worn to work yesterday. He felt weird, having her wearing his clothes.
"Seriously," She still wouldn't look at him, but he saw a blush creeping up her cheek. "What were you thinking when you bought this?" She held up a brown suit that he hadn't worn since being hired at Pearson-Harden.
"How are you not hung-over?" He sat down on the edge of his bed. She sighed and set down the suit.
"I am hung-over." She turned to look at him. Her eyes were red and her hair was a mess. She dropped the suit on the floor and sat down beside him, her thigh touching his. "I threw up in your sink…sorry."
"Ah…" He wasn't sure how to respond to that particular bit of news. "Are you okay now?"
"Not really," She lifted a hand to massage her temples. "But, with a little rest and a lot of aspirin, I will be." They sat side-by-side in silence for an uncomfortably long moment. "Look…" Rachel was staring at her bare feet. "About last night…"
"Don't mention it." Mike cut her off awkwardly. Jenny was still in the forefront of his mind.
"No…really." She was still looking at her bare feet as if they were the most interesting thing she'd ever seen. He was sure that they weren't. "I know I give you crap sometime, but…." She looked up and met his eyes. "You're a good guy, Mike."
"Huh." He let out a half-amused sigh. "Thanks. Now if you could just convince Jenny that…"
"Mike." She put a hand on his leg and he looked over at her, his face feeling hot. "You are a good guy. If she doesn't realize that…" She swallowed and he wanted to look away, but couldn't. "Then maybe you should find someone who does."
"Rachel…" His voice was low, tentative. "What are you saying?"
She pulled her hand back, putting it in her lap. "I just…" She bit her lip, something that he found supremely distracting. "Nothing." She looked back at her feet.
"Come on." He put a hand on her arm. "I asked you out, Rachel." He paused and she didn't move. "You said no."
"I wasn't talking about me!" She sprang off the bed, blushing fiercely. "I…oh, God." She ran away from him, her hand clamped over her mouth. A moments later, he heard retching sounds coming from his bathroom.
"God." He muttered, pushing the door open. The paralegal was crouched by his toilet, her head in her hands. "Rachel…" He put a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"
"Good news." She looked at him and wiped her mouth.
"And what would that be?" He sat on the floor beside her and pushed her hair back behind her ear.
"I didn't throw up in the sink this time." She hiccuped weakly, wiping sweat off her forehead.
He couldn't help but laugh. "That is good news." He put a careful hand on her shoulder.
She nodded her agreement, leaning into him a little. Their eyes met. Even with messy hair, bloodshot eyes and a maybe-puke-stained shirt…Rachel was still beautiful. She gave him a sad, regretful sort of smile. "Jenny's quite a lucky girl."
"I…" He didn't know what to say. "Rachel…"
"You should go." She blinked once or twice, breaking their eye contact. "You've got to see you grandma, remember?"
"That can wait, Rachel." He wrapped a hand around her wrist. He could feel her pulse, quick and flighty like the heartbeat of a sparrow, against his fingers. "We need to talk about this."
"About what, Mike?" Her pulse sped up under his hand. "There's nothing to talk about."
"You kissed me." He said it badly, threw it at her like an accusation.
"I though you said nothing happened!" She pulled her hand away from his and massaged her wrist like his touch had burned her. "I thought you said you weren't that for of guy, Mike."
"You kissed me." Mike got up and started pacing around the tiny bathroom, going into lawyer-mode. "I stopped it, Rachel. If I hadn't…"
"Don't do this, Mike." She realized what was happening and stood up too, swaying a little. "Just…don't."
"Why do you keep doing this, Rachel?" He couldn't let himself back down. He'd done that once before, at the mock trial, but this was different. This was just Rachel and him. It mattered on a whole different level. "As soon as something happens between us…"
"Nothing happened between us!" She took a step towards him. "Nothing that matters, anyway."
"You know I'm right, Rachel." He tilted his head and looked at her. "Why can't you just admit it for once?"
"Because I was drunk!" She stormed out of the bathroom, but he followed, cornering her in the kitchen.
"There's something between us and you know it." He was tired of waiting for her to get over what was stopping her from being with him. "So stop denying it."
"I'm leaving." She slipped past him and gathered up her dress and her purse from the couch.
"Don't do this again." He grabbed her shoulder, but she shrugged him off. "Rachel!" He protested as she left his apartment, but when he ran after her, all he saw was a pair of elevator doors sliding shut.
Rachel changed back into her black dress in the elevator. She stowed Mike's shirt in her bag after rejecting the idea of throwing it away. She called a cab and, knowing she must look like hell, leaned against the doorway of Mike's building.
Why did he have to be so nice and so polite? Any other guy would have left her in that bar to fend for herself. But, he wasn't like other guys. He was charming and sweet and he genuinely cared about her well being.
The cab, banana yellow in the midmorning light, pulled up to the building. Rachel ducked in, giving the cabbie her address. Her head pounded as they made their way through the traffic. Halfway home, her phone started ringing. It was her mother. She picked up on the third ring.
"Mom?" She said tentatively. She remembered her mother's face from somewhere in her alcoholic adventures last night.
"Rachel!" She flinched at her mother's loud and reprimanding voice. "I know you're an adult, but really." She made a tsk-ing sound. "You really shouldn't drink so much."
"I got drunk?" She feigned innocence. "I don't really remember, Mom."
"Sweetheart, I know being single is tough." Her voice was sympathetic. "But drinking yourself to death won't do anything."
"Mom!" Her head pounded as she let out an exclamation. "I haven't been drunk in months."
"Except last night." Her mother pointed out. "So…" There was a pause. "What's his name?"
"Whose name?" She ignored the blush on her cheeks.
"I've only seen you get that drunk when you're heartbroken, sweetie." Her mother's voice was gentle, not demanding. "Your father agrees…there must be a boy involved."
"Well, you're wrong." She looked down at the bag by her feet, the one with Mike's shirt in it. "No boy this time."
"It's fine that you don't want to tell us, Rachel." Rachel kicked the bag under the seat, not wanting to think about it. "Just…don't let it get too far. I can't stand seeing my only daughter become an alcoholic."
"Bye, Mom." Rachel hung up without waiting for a goodbye in return. All she wanted was to go somewhere dark and quiet, namely her apartment, and sleep for the next five years or so.
A/N: Not my favorite chapter...but the next one is. So, state tuned folks! And also review. I love reviews.