Rachel's cell phone rang; she
answered it absently. "Leeds."
"Rachel Leeds?" a semi-familiar male voice asked.
"Yes. Who is this?"
"Pete Costas. I'm a friend of Josh's; I called your
office and they gave me this number."
Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Is there a problem?"
"There could be. Have you talked to Josh recently?"
She ran a hand through her short blonde hair. "No, I
haven't seen him for a few weeks. Why?"
"He's been kind of bummed recently. See…you know
Laura, right?"
"Josh's girlfriend?"
"Ex-girlfriend, now. She came back from her semester at
sea with another guy. Josh didn't know until he saw them together on the
docks."
Rachel's gut twisted. "That's…terrible, but why are
you calling me?"
"Josh really needs someone now. I can't stay with him;
I've got class. I was hoping…would you talk to him?"
She closed her eyes, trying not to think. "I don't think
I'm the right person to be with him right now. There are…issues."
"I know about your history," Pete snapped.
"That's why you should be with him now. He needs you. If he's alone,
he might end up…well, let's just say currently he's only drinking Coke, but
he's at the right place for something stronger."
Rachel sighed, defeated. "Give me the address."
She paused inside the door,
letting her eyes adjust to the dim light inside. A few heads swiveled her way,
the hard-core bar patrons unused to seeing a woman in a plum business suit
inside their domain at two in the afternoon. She only had eyes for one, though.
Josh sat at the bar, his blonde head tipped back, eyes
closed. Rachel barely heard the music as she crossed, the soft female voice
singing, "I see your strength and how you shine; you're a diamond in the
rough that should be mine. But you're still fighting an old, old war that's left
you wounded and left you scarred…." Her attention was focused on the
young man, empty glass in front of him, pain etched on his features. She let her
hand rest gently on his shoulder, heart wrenching as his eyes opened, sorrow
filling their liquid brown depths.
"Pete called me," she told him, sliding into the
chair next to him. The pain in his eyes struck her to the core; she ached to
take him in her arms and take the hurt away. "He told me where you were,
and why. I'm sorry, Josh." You should
never have to hurt.
"So'm I. But…" she watched as he turned the empty
glass in his hands, long fingers handling the thick glass as if it were about to
shatter, "at the same time, I should have known. I think I may have known,
but didn't want to admit it. When the problems first started…when this
all started, " he tapped the watch masquerading as his bio-link, "I
knew it would be a problem. I think I knew that she couldn't handle it."
Josh turned the glass over on a damp napkin. "She deserves someone who can
give her one hundred percent. That isn't me anymore. I knew it a long time ago.
So I guess I should be happy. The kiss, it was just…an excuse, a catalyst,
hurrying along the inevitable."
It was more to me. It was…an awakening. It took so much for
me to do that. "Oh. But…you weren't…" was all she said,
quietly prompting him to continue, to say more, to voice what she hoped he was
feeling.
"Myself. That's what you said before, that I wasn't
myself, that it didn't matter." He looked up; she met his eyes, those eyes
that she saw as either blue or brown, but had never seen such depth as she did
at this moment. "I think I regret that more than anything else in my
life." He looked away, turning the glass around, searing a ring onto the
damp paper underneath. "Because I 'wasn't myself,' we could both write off
that kiss, pretend like it never happened. But it did."
Oh god, it did. I still dream, starting with that kiss and
ending with things that would make a sailor blush. Things that might have
happened if we were different people, in a different situation, without so many
complications. She sat silent, watching him toy with the empty glass. His
physical closeness affected her, tightening places inside of her, a pleasant
tension riffling through her. She watched his hands as he pushed the glass away.
"Dance with me?"
"What?" Did I hear him correctly?
"Here?"
"Yes, here." He extended a hand to her. Rachel
looked at it, at the strength she knew he possessed as well as the gentleness,
and slid her hand into his, trusting him. She closed her eyes as his arm slid
around her waist, barely touching the fabric of her jacket, but she felt his
warmth like a brand, burning his touch into her skin. She let her hand rest
gently on his shoulder, longing to lean against him, to feel the solid
reassurance of his chest. Why do there have
to be so many complications?
His arm tightened around her waist. To hell with
complications. She leaned against him, sighing as she felt him hold her
close, letting her hand slide across his shoulders. He rested his head against
hers; she thought she felt him whisper something into her hair.
"Rachel."
"Hmm?"
"I just want you to know my probes aren't
malfunctioning, I'm not on the rebound, and…I've never been more myself."
Why is he…? "Why?" she asked, looking into
his eyes. In answer, he touched his lips to hers, gently caressing,
feather-light. Her eyes closed again with the sweet sensation she'd thought to
never feel again. Josh's hand left hers to circle her waist; she took advantage
of the free hand to bury it in his hair. I must be crazy, kissing him in the
middle of a bar, she thought, then squashed any objections her mind brought
up. This was what she wanted, to be held by the man she loved.
His lips nibbled gently at hers, tasting, asking for more.
She parted her lips, allowing him the access he was looking for. His tongue
scraped lightly against her teeth, stroking along the inside of her mouth,
sending shivers up her spine. She returned the sensation, feeling the ridges of
his palate, delving into the recesses, tasting the sweetness of the cola still
on his tongue and lips.
They broke apart, shuddering. A few of the patrons clapped;
one grizzled man suggested they find a room. Josh slid his hands down her arms,
taking her hands in his, linking their fingers. They understood each other.
He left a few bills next to the empty glass on the bar and together, they stepped into the sunlight.
Author's Note: Okay, so I lied. After writing "Myself," I started wondering about Rachel's feelings. The original version of "Myself" had switched to her POV at the end, and when I went to type it back, I wrenched it back to Josh's POV. But her side of the story still needed to be told. Besides, I had a request to expand the kiss. :) So this gives us a bit of insight into Rachel's mind, and gives us a pretty splendid kiss, if I do say so myself. What they do, what they say or where they go after leaving the bar is up to you, the readers, to decide.
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