Author Note: Thank you all for the reviews, the follows, and the favorites. You are all fantastic for reading this. I am glad you are all enjoying it! Please keep the reviews coming.

This chapter is rather long, and dedicated to my fantastic new friend Sally. Thank you so much for your help, dear. You are fantastic.

When Alice opened the shop on that cloudy Friday morning, she found a note taped to the front door.

I'll see you at 8, it read. Please wear something nice. –John

"Something nice?" she repeated aloud, allowing the front door to swing shut behind her. "What an ass."

The note made her curious though. Where was he bringing her that required her to look nice? And, more importantly, did she actually own a dress?

Trying to put the night that lay ahead out of her mind, she concentrated on work. Unfortunately, it was a relatively slow day due to the rain that was beginning to fall. Despite having an order to check in and put away, she had most of her work done nearly two hours earlier than she intended.

Around 2, Heather, her assistant manager showed up, drenched from head to toe.

"I hate Chicago," she muttered as she shook the rain from her coat. "I swear, if it's not raining it's windy or snowing. We never get good weather."

"And then when we do get good weather, you complain because you're here," Alice teased.

"It's not my fault that you only schedule me on nice days," grumped Heather, making Alice laugh.

Alice liked Heather, she was a hard worker and really cool. She liked good music and enjoyed working in a record store, just as Alice did. For both of them, the store was more of a second him than an actual job. And that was exactly why Heather was Assistant Manager.

Well, that and she was Alice's best friend. The two of them had known each other since high school. Heather was the only person at the shop who had been working there almost as long as Alice.

"So, anything exciting happen lately?" Heather asked, setting her purse and keys behind the counter. "I haven't seen you since Monday."

For a moment Alice debated telling her about John, knowing full well that it was ridiculous to be so excited about a man she had only just met.

"Not much," she replied finally. "Just the usual."

"That took you way too long," the other girl observed. "You aren't telling me something."

Blushing, Alice shook her head, but by this time Heather had a smug grin consuming her face. There was no choice but to tell her.

"Well," Alice said hesitantly, looking at her feet. "I may have met a guy."

The sound Heather made was almost inhuman. She nearly dropped the coffee she was sipping, but managed to set it on the counter before throwing victory fists into the air.

"It's about damn time!" she screeched, making Alice glad there was no one else in the store. "What's his name? Is he cute? How did you-?"

Alice cut her off with a wave of the hand.

"Calm down," she laughed. "It's nothing too exciting. His name is John. He's an artist, apparently a pretty good one. He came in to buy a Gaslight record the other day and we ended up going to dinner and a movie."

"What?" Heather practically shrieked. "You went to dinner AND a movie?"

"We went to see Gone With the Wind at the Wheaton theater."

"Did you take Mary-Ann?"

It made Alice laugh that Heather referred to her car by name. All of Alice's friends had met the infamous old white Lincoln at some point. The car was practically a legend around the record store. One of the local bands had even used a picture of it as a cover for their EP.

"Yes, we took Mary-Ann," Alice laughed. "And she seemed to like him too."

"So she didn't break down on the highway this time?"

This had only happened once. Alice had gone out with a real scumbag that used to come into the store often They had taken Alice's car and the car had broken down before they even reached the restaurant they were heading to. Everyone said it was fate and the car hated him. Alice hadn't argued with the car's decision and had broken it off with him right there on the side of the road.

"Not this time," Alice mused. "I think my driving may have frightened him though."

"Your driving scares me!" Heather pointed out. "The fact that he rode with you and still is into you says something right there! When are you going to see him again?"

"Tonight, actually."

Heather made a sound like she might combust.

"Tonight?" she exclaimed. "Where are you going? What are you doing? When is he picking you up?"

"Calm down!" Alice insisted. "I have no idea where we're going or what we're doing. I literally came into the shop today to find a note taped to the front door telling me that he was going to meet me at 8 and to dress nice."

"Oh my god, that's so cute!"

"Heather, focus!"

"Sorry! Do you own anything nice?"

Alice sighed, shaking her head.

"I honestly don't know," she admitted.

Rolling her eyes, Heather pointed toward the upstairs apartment.

"You go up there and scour your closet," she instructed. "When you find a few nice things, you bring them down here and show me."

Grumbling about her distaste for girly things, Alice hiked upstairs to dig something nice out of the far reaches of her closet.

It took hours for Alice to finally look presentable for her date. Heather had been a drill sergeant when it came to making sure she looked nice. They had spent nearly an hour putting together her outfit, another two hours on her hair and make-up, and by the time 8 o' clock rolled around, Alice was feeling more like a doll than an actual human. That is, with the exception of her exposed arms, which were covered in decidedly un-doll like tattoos. It was the first time in a long time she had felt completely self-conscious of them. She hoped beyond hope that John would like them, or at the very least overlook them.

Despite Heather's protest, Alice had insisted she not meet John until after this first official date. The grumpy assistant manager had been exiled to the back room to work on inventory for the time being. Every once in a while Alice would hear the very loud moving of boxes, which she knew was Heather purposely drawing attention to herself.

John arrived right on time, dressed to the nines. It was still raining and his dark hair was slightly matted to his face. His shook it away and it took effort for Alice to keep herself from swooning. He looked absolutely stunning in his three-piece suit, the long overcoat brushing slightly past his knees, and a black and white checked scarf draped around his neck.

"It is disgusting out there!" he sighed, brushing rain from his jacket.. "I think we may have to change our plans, and-"

Suddenly he stopped short when his gaze finally fell on Alice fully. His eyes went wide and he smiled, standing up straight.

"Well," he smirked. "I must say, you look absolutely beautiful, darling."

Blushing, Alice shrugged.

"It's the best I could do on short notice," she mumbled, staring shyly at her feet.

"If this is what short notice looks like, I would love to see what you could do with more time to plan," he chuckled. "You would kill me with your stunning good looks."

"I seriously doubt it."

"Have you looked at yourself, dear? That dress hugs you just right and accentuates those luscious curves of yours. You look like hell in high heels."

"If by 'hell' you mean mass chaos caused by tripping over my own feet…especially in this weather…you're probably right."

Shaking his head at her, he sighed and took a few steps forward.

"I said you look beautiful," he repeated pointedly.

Her will to protest disappeared and she decided that smiling and thanking him was probably the best approach.

"That a girl," he approvingly smiled. "Not, I think we're going to have to rethink our plans for the night. I was going to take you to see Shakespeare in the park. However, with this rain, I have doubts they'll be performing."

"Do you have anything else in mind?" Alice asked, losing her will to go out in the rain by the second.

A clap of thunder sounded across the dark sky and she gave the door a wary look.

"You don't seem too keen on going out in this weather," he observed, reading her just as easily as he had the day they met. "What would you like to do instead?"

"We could stay in and order pizza," she suggested with a shrug. "I mean, I know that sounds a little boring, but it's better than going out in a thunderstorm."

Though he looked a bit disappointed, he nodded.

"Sure," he decided. "That sounds fantastic."

"Are you sure? I mean, we can go out, but it's downpouring out there. I am pretty fond of staying dry."

"I agree whole heartedly, darling."

A broad smile took her face and she took his hand.

"Good," she giggled. "Then let's go upstairs. The pizza place down the street has some great deep-dish. We could get delivery and decide what to do from there. Maybe the storm will let up by then."

"I am up for anything," he agreed. "Just lead the way."

Taking his hand, she led him through the back room, nodding toward Heather, who was too busy purposely ignoring them to notice.

"Now, I feel obligated to warn you that it is a little cluttered," she sighed. "It's not super big, and-"

"I am sure it is fine," he assured her. "No need to make excuses."

Alice bit her lip, trying to contain her anxiety. It wasn't often people came up to the apartment; especially not attractive artist guys that seemed really into her. In her opinion, the apartment was cozy, with its open layout and mismatched furniture. It had been home to her since she graduated high school. Her father had helped her renovate the place that summer and she had moved in as soon as it was finished.

The door creaked as she pushed it open, exposing the large main room. The first thing she noticed was the stack of books next to the couch and she mentally cursed herself for not putting them away. However, John completely overlooked them, entering her home with a look of awe on his face.

"It's so…you," he grinned, and she knew it was a compliment.

She let him wander around, rather than giving him a tour. There was too much to properly explain all her decorating decisions. The walls were covered in posters and artwork, making the plum colored walls almost invisible beneath. A couch and chair were against the far wall, facing a small television, which sat atop a travel trunk. Against the left wall stood her record player cabinet and a bookshelf next to it, which was completely filled with albums. That seemed to be his first target.

"Have you listened to all of them?" he asked as his fingers feathered over the shelves.

"Every single one of them," she honestly replied.

"Incredible."

The kitchen was next, though he didn't spend too much time. He commented on how much he enjoyed the openness of the rooms; and the simplicity of the kitchen being defined by a simple counter that horseshoed around the small space. When his eyes fell upon where the dining room table should have been, his jaw almost literally dropped. Instead of a table, there was a grand piano. It was a little scuffed and old looking, but he assumed it still played well because the top was propped open and the keyboard exposed.

"Do you play?" he inquired, almost hesitant to touch the ivory keys.

A stab of guilt hit her in the chest. At one point, that piano had been the key to her future. But that was a long time ago.

Shaking away the thoughts about what could have been, she nodded.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I'm not too bad."

"Will you play for me?"

"Not right now."

"Later tonight?"

"Maybe if you're really lucky."

Winking at him, she motioned for him to follow her down the hall, somewhat desperate to get him away from the piano.

"The bathroom is down this way," she explained. "And my bedroom is there at the end."

"What's the other door?" he prompted, not waiting for an answer before twisting the knob.

"That's the library," she told him, but he was already inside.

"Your book collection rivals your records!" he enthusiastically gushed. "This is fantastic!"

In actuality, the library was not as impressive as he made it sound. There were three bookshelves that were all mostly populated, and a little desk that she did the paperwork for the shop at.

However, he was fascinated. He took a few minutes to search the titles, commenting on how much he enjoyed some of them.

"I can't believe you have an entire book on Norse Mythology!" he laughed. "And it's right next to Harry Potter!"

"I happen to like mythology," she grumped defiantly.

"I didn't say there was anything wrong with that! I happen to like Greek myths a lot. The story of Icarus is still my favorite. Both completely inspiring and completely heartbreaking."

"And that's why people shouldn't fly into the sun."

Rolling his eyes, he went back to looking through her books.

"So, what about that pizza?" he asked, taking one of the older titles off the shelf.

"We could share one, if you don't mind," she suggested. "The meat lovers pizza is delicious, and they put feta in it!"

"That sounds delicious," he nodded, not fully paying attention. "Do whatever you want."

Leaving him to look through her collection, she went to call the pizza place.

When he finally emerged from the library, the pizza was ordered and she was plugging the Nintendo 64 into the TV.

"What are you doing?" he asked, leaning against the wall and watching her battle the cables.

"I figured we could play Mario while we wait for the pizza," she explained with a shrug. "Everybody loves Mario Cart."

"I can't say I've ever played," he admitted.

"Well, we'll soon change that."

A pizza, six races, and a bottle of wine later, they were laying on the couch, The Cure spinning on the turntable, and Alice's head on his chest. What had started out a fun game, had quickly turned sour when John realized Alice was far better at videogames than he. She had come in first nearly every race, while he generally came in last. It was frustrating for h5im, and she finally settled listening to music to keep him from throwing the controller again.

On the floor next to the couch lie his suit jacket and overcoat, his tie now hung loosely around his neck, the sleeves of his button up rolled up exposing his forearms. Alice was still in her dress, though her hair had been let down and was now hanging in loose waves around her shoulders.

"So," he mumbled, twisting a lock of her hair lazily between his fingers. "How did you end up here? With the shop and all that?"

"It's my dad's," she shrugged. "He let me run it when I was in high school. I just never left."

"Why not?"

For the slightest of moments he felt her tense, the question seeming to put her more than slightly on edge.

"I didn't want to," she answered honestly. "This place is so familiar. It's my life. Everything I love is in this shop."

"But surely you had dreams for the future."

Again she tensed, this time more noticeably.

"I did," she sighed. "But they weren't important. My sister needed to go to school more than I did. Only one of us could go because dad is dirt poor, so I wanted her to go. She's studying to be a doctor. I just wanted to go to music school."

"For piano?"

"Yeah. I was going to become a performer."

There was so much regret in her voice that it pained him. He could tell from the way she spoke that she had really wanted to follow her dream, but care for her younger sibling had stopped her. Holding her a little closer, he kissed the top of her head.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be," she snorted. "It was my choice. Besides, I really do love the store. I get to talk about music all day, pick out the best albums, hang out with the tattoo artists from next door, and meet charming artists who bring me to dinner and the movies and then get drunk with me on my couch."

"That happens often, does it?"

"Just this time."

An inked arm reached back and ruffled his dark curls. Almost on instinct, he took hold of it to examine the work. It was an excellent piece, from what he could see. There was a giant sea monster reaching up from the depths toward what appeared to be a pirate ship.

"Do you want to see it?" she asked, sitting up and taking her arm back momentarily to adjust her dress. "It's got the Loch Ness monster over here, and then that guy is the Kraken."

She extended her arm and showed him the full scene. The night sky loomed over a calm sea, where a single pirate ship with black sails drifted. Below the water, all kinds of fish and plants dwelled, though none of them looked to be based on actual fish, but rather the monsters of legends.

"May I see the other?" he smirked, knowing she would comply.

The left arm was covered in something very different. This time, the sky was pink and purple, the sun appearing to be rising from her shoulder, casting light over a city, which appeared to be Chicago. He could see Navy Pier and the Sears tower, various other uniquely shaped towers, and the train snaking past them. In the midst of the urban sprawl, there were people, though not the average Joe. By the look of them, they were characters from movies. He picked out Master Chief from the videogame Halo, along with Mario and Luigi, a few horror movie villains, and a few famous musicians, like Freddie Mercury and Elvis. They all appeared to be fighting each other, which he found incredibly amusing.

"These are fantastic," he chuckled.

"You haven't even seen my back yet," she smirked, motioning at him to unzip the back of her dress.

He complied, exposing pale skin, a large section of which was covered in stars and nebulas. The Milky Way galaxy spiraled out from between her shoulder blades, scattering colorful spec meant to be planets across both shoulders.

"You are a walking gallery, my dear," he breathed. "It's such beautiful art. It suits you well."

When she glanced over her shoulder at him, he could see she was blushing brightly. Almost on instinct, he reached out and cradled the back of her neck with his hand, bringing her lips to his.

A light sigh escaped her lips and she turned to straddle him, taking him by pleasant surprise. Gripping her hair, he swept his tongue across her lower lip. Taking the hint, her lips parted, allowing him delve deeper, his mouth devouring hers. Her teeth tugged at his lower lip and he couldn't keep himself from moaning.

Feeling daring, he began exploring her neck and jaw, nipping at her flushed skin and running his tongue over the small red marks that were left behind. Her pleasured moans were turning him on like crazy, as was the way she arched at his touch. Fingers once entangled in hair moved to grip hips, and she pressed herself against his length.

His heart was pounding in his chest as his lips found hers again and he ran his hands down her thighs before beginning to urge her skirt upward.

Suddenly she tensed, as if only just realizing where this was leading.

"Wait," she insisted, pushing away from him.

Automatically he stilled, despite feeling as though he may explode from desire.

"What's wrong?" he asked as she slid off his lap.

"I can't do this right now," she sighed, turning a violent shade of red from embarrassment.

Disappointment flooded him, though he tried not to let it show. He didn't want to make her feel pressured to fuck him, though he wanted nothing more than to bend her over the couch and take her right there.

"Oh," he whispered. "That's…okay."

"I'm sorry!" she apologized. "I just…I don't…I don't want to seem easy."

He couldn't help laughing, despite the glare she threw in his direction.

"Don't laugh!" she insisted hotly. "I never sleep with a guy this early on in the relationship. It's nothing against you."

"I should hope it's nothing against me," he smiled, feeling a little guilty about trying to move so fast. "I apologize for trying to be so forward. I just thought…"

"I do want to fuck you," she blurted out, turning crimson. "I just…I can't right now."

"That's fine, sweetheart," he assured her. "No pressure."

"I just don't want you to think-"

"I don't think anything, I promise. I'm not judging. Just tell me, how long has it been?"

"Since what?"

"Since you were properly fucked."

She thought for a moment, which he knew to mean it had either been very recent or very long ago.

"Almost a year," she answered finally, looking rather proud of the fact.

"My goodness!" he exclaimed, which made her smile despite herself. "You are most certainly not easy."

"Damn straight! When's the last time you got laid?"

To his relief, she seemed comfortable again.

However, it took him a moment to answer the question. This was the problem with amnesia, he honestly didn't remember the last time he had sex. For that matter, he didn't know if he ever had been. He assumed he had been, he felt like he had been, but he honestly didn't know.

"I don't remember," he said honestly.

"Then you can't say shit!" she scolded, slapping his arm playfully. "At least I know who the last person to take this ride was."

"Well you could be the first person to take this ride, but you're too busy playing hard to get."

"I will be the first person to take that ride, but I'm going to play hard to get for as long as I damn well please!"

It felt as though his heart skipped a beat.

"Promise?" he smirked.

"If you're lucky," she replied, returning the smirk.

"I tend to be."

She kissed him, though more chastely this time.

"Then I look forward to it," she said breathily.

"Oh, I'm going to absolutely ravish you," he promised passionately, eyes boring into hers. "I'm going to have you a million different ways and ruin other men to you completely."

The shiver that coursed through her was almost visible. It made him hungry for her, though he did his best to repress it.

"That sounds fantastic," she whispered, kissing him again, more passionately this time.

"So what do you want to do now?" he asked, resting his forehead against hers.

"We could watch a movie," she suggested.

"That sounds good," he nodded. "What do you want to watch?"

"Have you ever seen Music and Lyrics?" she asked, getting off the couch and digging through her collection of DVDs.

"I've never even heard of it."

"It's adorable. It's a romantic comedy about this singer that needs a lyricist…can we please watch it?"

Rolling his eyes, he gave in.

"Fine, we can watch your chick flick," he agreed.

"I was going to make you watch it either way."

"I figured as much."

At some point during the movie, Alice drifted off, leaving John to lie there, listening to her quiet breathing. He had rather enjoyed the movie, though he would never admit it to her for fear of her questioning his masculinity. As the credits rolled, he carefully stood, doing his best not to disturb her slumber, and crossed to turn off the television.

Gathering his coats and scarf, he began to get ready to leave.

"What are you doing?" mumbled a quiet voice from the couch.

"I'm going home," he replied. "It's late and you're obviously tired."

"Why don't you stay?" she suggested with a yawn.

"I didn't think-"

"It's fine. I don't you walking home. It's probably still raining and it's late. I'll move to my bed and you can take the couch. Or, if you're feeling really daring, you could join me."

"I can sleep on the couch," he shrugged, not wanting to let on how badly he wanted to sleep next to her.

"Okay," she smiled, slipping off the couch. "I'm going to get to bed."

Giving him a quick kiss, she disappeared down the hall to the bedroom. When the door was closed, he stripped down to his boxers and undershirt and made himself comfortable on the couch, covering up with the quilt that was draped over the back of it.

The quilt smelled strongly of her and it soothed him. Her scent was intoxicating and sleeping so close to it made him feel content.

He heard the door to her room creak and glanced down the hall. She stood silhouetted in the doorway, looking rather confused.

"Are you sure you don't want to sleep in here?" she asked, this time sounding disappointed.

Not needing to be asked twice, he got up and followed her into the bedroom.