This is a continuation of the previous chapter.

Seth found a blanket in Jessica's hall closet. He could use one of the couch pillows to rest his head. He doubted he'd get much sleep regardless, tired though he was. He removed all but one of the pillows from the couch and unfurled the blanket. He slipped off his shoes, loosened his bowtie and collar and tried to get comfortable.

As much as he tried to suppress the hope he felt this evening, he didn't have the energy to discipline himself as he normally would when such thoughts threatened to overwhelm him. He could still feel Jessica's warm breath against his ear, the feel of her hands around his neck. He was grateful she hadn't kissed him; he wasn't sure he could have stopped himself then. He turned on his side, thumping the scratchy couch pillow for good measure. Thoughts like those wouldn't help him sleep.

He'd done his best to make her comfortable upstairs, but all he could bring himself to do was remove her sweater and shoes and unclasp her necklace. She'd asked him to stay, repeatedly, all while giving him a look that he would forever associate with The Andrews Sisters. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to look her in the eye again after this evening. He was embarrassed and she would be mortified. Most of the time, their relationship verged on collegial, but there were times when...tensions...surfaced. He thought often of how she'd crooked her little finger at him and he'd followed her dumbly in to the dining room, only to receive one of the most thoughtful gifts of his life. She could surprise him, and she certainly had this evening.

But what did it all mean? Probably nothing, Seth. Don't get your hopes up again. She's a flirt and you know it. She's also stubborn, independent, maddening, delightful, alluring. If only she could see him as a lover as well as a friend. Seth sighed. It was going to be a long night.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Her mouth was dry. So dry. She needed water, but standing up seemed out of the question. She felt just dreadful. She turned to look at the clock on her nightstand table. 7:15 AM. Something didn't feel quite right. She looked down at herself. She was on top of the covers with a blanket tangled around her feet. She wasn't wearing shoes or her sweater, but otherwise she was in the same clothes she'd been wearing yesterday. Yesterday. She had some vague memories of yesterday...visiting the Applewood sisters, for one. What had she done there? She remembered the morning clearly. She'd been working on those rewrites...such a struggle with this book. Then she biked over to the Applewood sisters, but she knew she couldn't stay terribly long, because she and Seth had plans to-Seth. She groaned. Oh no. She heard his familiar tread coming up the stairs. She struggled to sit up, smooth her hair, and untangle the blankets before he got to her room. She succeeded at none of the three by the time Seth arrived, carrying some aspirin, crackers, and a glass of what she dearly hoped was water.

"Good morning," he said quietly. "How are you?"

She grimaced. "Just awful. What happened?"

Seth smiled. "You had a double dose of some rather potent cider at the Applewoods yesterday."

"Two glasses of cider made me feel like this?" She frowned. "I don't believe it."

"I'm not sure, Jess, but I think that particular batch of cider has been fermenting in their cellar for years. Possibly since World War II! And," he drew his brows together, "you told me you hadn't eaten anything yesterday."

"Well," she said weakly.

He walked into the room and over to her side of the bed. "I brought you something."

"A sledgehammer to put me out of my misery?"

He laughed quietly. "I brought aspirin, crackers, and some pickle juice."

"Pickle juice?" Jessica pulled a face. "Seth, is this some kind of a joke?"

"No joke, woman!" A strange look passed over his face, and Jessica wondered what it could mean. He hadn't said anything unusual so far as she could tell. He recovered himself quickly. "Pickle juice is the tried-and-true hangover remedy of medical students everywhere. Or at least at Harvard back in my day." He handed her the glass along with two aspirin. "Drink it all, Jess. It'll work, I promise."

She looked at him balefully. She abhorred all pickles, excepting bread and butter pickles, and this brine smelled like dill...her least favorite. Her stomach rumbled nervously. She felt just awful, though, and she did trust Seth. He did like to tease, but never about medicine. She popped the aspirin into her mouth, forced herself to take a sip and nearly gagged.

"Just do it in one long gulp. That's the best way...the only way, really," he mused. "Go on now."

She refrained from sticking her tongue out at him, but she thought he rather got the idea, as he swallowed back the grin that was threatening. He jerked his chin at her, and she tipped back the glass, forcing herself to swallow the vile concoction. "Yuck." She shuddered as she handed Seth the empty glass. "It'll be a long while before I accept any offers of cider from Lillian and Helen."

"Here," he handed her the sleeve of crackers. "Eat a few of these as well. Saltines'll help settle your stomach."

"I can't eat crackers in bed!"

Seth tried and failed to hide his amusement. "You did last night!"

"What?"

"I had to get some food into you, woman. You were three sheets to the wind! By the time I got supper ready, you were fading fast. I got you up here, then fed you some broth and crackers before you passed out."

She nibbled a cracker thoughtfully. "Where did you get pickle juice, Seth? You know I don't keep pickles in the house."

Seth smiled. "I know you don't, but I do. I was up early, so I just ran home and grabbed my jar." He cleared his throat. "After last night, I thought maybe you could use something to ease a hangover." He made a point of not looking at her as he said this.

"Oh my," said Jessica faintly. "Was I...did I..." She paused for a moment, concentrating very carefully on picking some loose threads from the blanket. "Did I make a spectacle of myself?"

Seth smiled. "Not at all. You were as charming and delightful as you always are."

"Liar," Jessica said fondly. "What are you doing here this morning anyway?"

Seth looked a trifle embarrassed. "I hope you won't mind. I...well, I slept on the couch downstairs. I didn't want to leave, in case, well in case you needed anything during the night."

She studied Seth's face. Some of yesterday and last night was coming back to her. He'd come to retrieve her from the Applewoods, and she had a vague memory of...singing. She groaned and covered her face. "I must have made a complete fool of myself yesterday. I'm not much of a drinker, you know."

"Not at all, Jess," he said firmly. "The only people who saw you indisposed were the Applewood sisters and me. And none of us will tell another soul."

"Tell another soul what?" she insisted.

"How charming and delightful you are after two glasses of thoroughly fermented Applewood cider!" Seth laughed, but stifled it upon seeing Jessica wince in pain. "I'm sorry, Jess. I haven't given the pickle juice enough time to kick in."

Jess smiled wryly. "Don't remind me. I'm just barely keeping it down."

Jessica munched on another cracker as Seth shuffled from one foot to another. She studied him thoughtfully. Yesterday was still something of a haze, but the singing...what was it she'd been singing? She started humming a bit of an old tune, and Seth's face registered surprise as he recognized it.

She maneuvered herself over just a bit. "Sit down, Seth."

Seth's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "I'm not sure-"

"Just sit down, Seth, for heaven's sake!" She looked at him carefully. He was flushed and uncomfortable, and it came to her, a flash of insight, something akin to how the plots of her mysteries sometimes revealed themselves to her. "You do love me."

"What?" sputtered Seth, but Jessica just looked at him calmly. He would've given anything to be able to read her thoughts. He took a deep breath. "I think you know that I do," he said quietly.

"Woman," she added. Seth looked at her blankly. "It is what you call me, isn't it?" Seth nodded. "You don't call anyone else that, do you?"

"No," he murmured and reached for her hand. "Did you never wonder why I call you that, Mrs. English Teacher and Mystery Writer?" Jessica looked at him quizzically. "I'm surprised! After all those literary allusions yesterday." She looked at him blankly. "Never mind. It's a reference to Sherlock Holmes; he becomes..." Seth trailed off, searching for the right phrase..."I suppose you'd say it's a term of respect, of admiration and praise for a beautiful woman who overcame him." He looked at Jessica and she met his gaze steadily. "I have great admiration for you, too, woman," he said softly.

"It's starting to come back to me, Seth," she said quietly. "Yesterday, I mean. And last night."

"Jessica, you don't-"

She squeezed his hand. "Seth, I still feel pretty terrible, although I must admit to feeling slightly more human after drinking that vile pickle juice. I look a fright, I'm sure, but I know who I am, and I know what I'm saying."

"What are you saying, Jess?" Seth ventured tentatively

She pulled her hand from his and reached up to stroke his cheek. "I'm saying that I have great admiration for you, too." She grinned impishly. "Better just to call it what it is, though. I love you, too, and I have for some time now. I was just too stubborn...and too scared...to admit it." She smiled at him, then gently shifted herself forward. "Now will you sit with me under the apple tree?"

Seth grinned so broadly that he thought his face might crack. "Woman, I told you last night. I'll sit anywhere you like."

Seth hardly minded that the first kiss he shared with Jessica Fletcher carried the salty brine of pickle juice with it.

A/N: Many thanks to PixieKayGirl, who took the time to review the second half of this story and got me over the rough spots. She's also 100% responsible for the fantastic and fitting Sherlock Holmes reference, which is my new favorite thing to muse on. All remaining mistakes are mine! Hope you enjoy this one.