Title: Dinner
Author: Teri Leigh
Email: terileighb@aol.com
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with the WB, Melinda or Jason. Basically I own nothing and no infringement is intended
Summary: 5 years after "Destiny" two people find comfort in each other's arms
Category: NC-17, Unconventional couples, Mi/L
Author's Notes: I'm working on a sequel to this one which will contain even more angst and smut. Hope y'all enjoy!

The ringing of the phone brought him abruptly from his deep and blissfully dream-free sleep. He forced his eyes open to glare blearily at his clock. It stared back at him in vicious neon red. Though it only read 11:17 p.m., still early to most people, he worked first shift and had to be awake in just over six hours to put in what would more than likely be a ten-hour day. He reached for the phone, if for no other reason than to stop its incessant, shrill ringing. "Hello?" he said wearily.

"Hi. Did I wake you?"

He automatically recognized the soft feminine voice on the other end of the line and was instantly alert. She rarely called, and he was immediately concerned that something was wrong. "Yeah, it's fine. Are you OK?"

He heard her soft sigh through the receiver and knew something was wrong. Not that he honestly expected her to tell him anything, but he wanted her to know he was there if needed.

"I'm fine. I was just wondering..." She took a deep breath and he could tell she was trying to bring forth the courage to complete her question. "Do you have plans tomorrow night?"

"Depends, what did you have in mind?" He knew exactly what she was asking, but he wanted...no needed, to hear her say it.

"I was hoping we could go to dinner."

Her voice had dropped to a hushed seductive tone that always had an effect on him. A smile spread across his face as he thought of what "dinner" had come to imply between the two of them in the last year or so. The second Friday of every month, she would come to pick him up at his house and they would go to dinner. The place changed, though it was always nice and private without being overly expensive. They would dress well without going overboard. He would wear dress pants and a button down shirt, she a dress or blouse and skirt combo. She always wore heels, and he'd find himself sneaking glances at her long, gorgeous legs throughout the meal.

They spoke in hushed tones about inane things, nothing too personal. "How have you been?" "Job going well?" "Anything new going on?" But that was the extent of it. They only once commented on something personal and that was when she announced she had met someone. Of course, this was later, once they were back at his place, before she left. It had been decided that they would postpone their monthly meetings until she determined where things would go with this mystery man. She had called six weeks later for "dinner" and they had picked up where they left off after that.

He didn't comment on the fact that tomorrow was the last Friday of the month and therefore two weeks before their regularly scheduled evening out. He was too intelligent to pass up their dinner. And too much of a man and therefore in possession of a great deal of hormones, to pass up the activities that invariably took place when they returned to his apartment. "Pick me up here at seven?"

She agreed, apologized again for waking him and told him she'd see him tomorrow night at his place. After softly telling him she was looking forward to the next day, she said good night and hung up the phone. He placed his receiver back in the cradle and closed his eyes, preparing for sleep with a smile on his face.

Dinner had been a quiet affair at a quaint and mildly extravagant restaurant by the shore. They talked softly of nothing while they ate at their candlelit table. The food was exquisite, though neither really paid attention to what they were eating. The air was charged with sexual energy, more so than normal. He couldn't seem to pull his eyes away from her.

She had on a red dress that hugged every curve to perfection and was slit up the side just far enough to show some thigh as she crossed her legs. Her hair, longer now than it had been in high school, was pulled up, exposing her long, magnificent neck. His gaze was drawn to her mouth every time she took a sip of her wine, her tongue frequently skimming across her lips to catch the tangy moisture. At one point, she took her hand and flirtatiously stroked it over her neck and down across the top of her dress. The action caused her nipples to harden and he had to shift in his seat to accommodate his growing erection.

By the time the waitress came to ask if they wanted dessert, both were worked up enough to quickly refuse and ask for the check, in a hurry to be alone together.

He quickly unlocked the door and held it open for her once they arrived at his apartment. She placed her purse on a dining room chair, asking for a drink while she removed her coat. He retrieved her favorite bottle of wine from the refrigerator. He had stopped on his way home from work today to make sure he had one.

After pouring her drink, he looked around and realized she was no longer in the living room. He noticed his bedroom light on and walked over, languidly pushing the door open. Her back was to him and she was reaching for her zipper. Walking over to where she stood, he took his arm, which held her drink, and wrapped it around her, handing her the beverage. He placed his free hand over her zipper asking quietly, "Need help?"

Nodding, she took a long sip of her drink before placing it on the end table by the bed. As she felt her zipper being deliberately dragged down, she pressed her backside into his rapidly stiffening manhood, circling her hips erotically against him. With her zipper lowered, he raised his hands to her shoulders and pushed the material from them. She took a step forward and turned to face him. Holding her dress up with one hand, she took his hand and urged him to the bed.

Once he was seated, she lifted her hands to her breasts, caressing them delicately, before pulling the dress down and exposing her black lace bra. His quick intake of breath made her smile and, with swaying hips, she let the dress dip down to reveal her firm stomach and the top of her garter belt. In what he concluded was a mild moment of shyness, she turned so her back was facing him and then bent at the waist and dropped her dress.

The sight of her standing in front of him in a black lace bra with matching garter belt and stockings sent a surge of excitement through him. She wasn't wearing any underwear, causing his heart to skip a beat. His mind couldn't get over the vision of her bending before him, her gorgeous ass outlined by her garter belt. It took all his strength not to reach out and press his face between her legs, but he wanted to see what she would do next. He couldn't decide whether he was disappointed or more aroused when she knelt before him to begin removing his clothes.

After quickly yanking off his shoes and socks, she reached up to let her hair fall loose around her shoulders. She then ran her hands up his legs, dragging her body against his as she got higher up. Her cheek was trailing lightly up his right leg, and when she reached the juncture between them, she pressed an openmouthed kiss against his erection through his pants.

She pulled his shirt out of his pants and her fingers quickly went to work on the buttons while her lips caressed the skin just above his waistband. Her mouth followed the progression of her hands and she soon had him bare-chested, her tongue swirling around his areola. He wrapped his hands in the silk of her hair and moaned as she sucked heavily on his nipple.

Everywhere her body touched his felt as if were on fire. She somehow managed to make his body throb with the most minimal contact. His skin tingled all over, as if she were touching him everywhere at once. Goose bumps rose over his body as she continued her ministrations, knowing exactly how to stroke, caress, and fondle him to evoke his most passionate responses.

Her hands swiftly skimmed the sides of his body before returning to his waist and the closure of his pants. After undoing them, she lifted her head to smile slyly up at him and slid her lace-covered body down the length of his, making sure to keep full contact as she went.

She was leaning over him once again, this time with her face mere inches from his rampant erection. He could feel her breath against his skin as she said, "Lift up." He obligingly lifted his hips off the bed so she could drag both pants and boxers down and off his legs. Once again she ran her hands up his legs, but this time she followed them with hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses against his bare flesh. Her hand reached the base of his erection and she gently took of hold of it, but remained still, simply holding him. She finally kissed her way up to her hand and leisurely licked him from base to tip.

He tried unsuccessfully to stifle a groan as she began placing slow, wet kisses up and down his erection. When he was sufficiently slick with her saliva, she let her hand stroke up his length, circling the sensitive head before stroking back down. She repeated the motions several times before she took the head into her mouth, swirling her tongue around him and applying light suction as she stroked.

For a moment, he was sure that somehow, over the past two weeks, she had grown more skilled at torturing his body. Her mouth was hot and moist around him, moving perfectly in tune with her hand. Her tongue explored him with confident laps, concentrated on the places that effected him most, increasing pressure with every moan. He threw his head back, one arm over his face, his back arching slightly up off the bed. She continued until he was throbbing in her hand and then pulled away.

He was beginning to wonder where she had gone when he felt her take his erection in her hand again. Her hand was slicker than it had been before and he realized that she had poured some of the lubricant he kept in the top drawer of his bedside table onto it. Using one of the condoms he kept there, she quickly sheathed him then let her lubricant slick hand glide over him a few times, before she positioned him against her.

He felt the head of his penis slide up and down the length of her moist, warm, feminine flesh several times before he felt her press down against him. The head of his erection slipped inside her, causing them both to groan. She rose up slowly before pushing against him again. Though they had done this many times, she was still tight around him. As she began to lower herself once more, he pressed his hips up, knowing that she'd stretch to accommodate his size.

After withdrawing and pressing back a few more times, she was finally seated firmly against him. Their groans filled the silent air surrounding them as she rocked her hips deliberately from side to side, enjoying the fullness of his body solidly and deeply inside hers. His eyes cracked open as she began to lift off of him and he realized she was sitting on his lap, facing away from him. Her feet were still on the floor allowing her to raise and lower herself on his body, giving her control over the speed and depth of his penetration.

She started with a slow, rocking pace, her hips circling against his, causing him to rub her internally in the most amazing places. Her breathing increased and she began to moan as she sped her movement. Soon she was bouncing roughly on him, causing him to close his eyes and grind his teeth, fighting against the overwhelming sensation.

She was riding him hard and it took all his control not to grab her hips and thrust against her. Knowing his movement would just upset her rhythm, he lay back and listened to the moist sounds of flesh meeting flesh as she rode him. He managed not to reach for her by grabbing the sheets on either side of him in his fists.

Her movements grew jerkier as she approached climax, her moans becoming low, gasping screams of pleasure. She leaned back, her right hand finding his and grabbing onto it. He could tell she was close, but she was wearing herself out with her extreme motions. Taking their joined hands, he brought them down so that they were both massaging her clit. Feeling her warm, wet flesh underneath his fingers proved to be the catalyst for his loss of control.

He jerked up, causing them both to rise to their feet as he roughly thrust into her, their hands on her clit never stopping. Her left hand wrapped around his neck, her back arching causing her to press more firmly against him. His left hand reached up to harshly pinch her nipple as his lips connected to her neck and her entire body exploded in climax. Her inner muscles gripped him so tightly that he was momentarily immobile.

He held himself deeply inside her for long moments before she relaxed enough for him to begin thrusting again, the motion of his hands never ceasing. When he felt her muscles begin to flutter around him, he released his control. His hands grabbed her hips as he thrust savagely several more times before climaxing harshly with a shout.

With her still in his arms, he stumbled back and fell onto the bed. Their harsh breathing filled the room, while he stood and removed the used condom. As he walked back towards the bed, he realized that though his shirt was un-buttoned, it had never been removed. He yanked it off, throwing it into the corner, before returning to sit beside her prone form on the bed.

This is when reality would typically set in. The guilt of what they'd just done tended to hit him with the weight of a thousand bricks right about now. It was always this way. The excitement and anticipation of their meeting would culminate in the most intense physical gratification and only then would he allow himself to think of the consequences.

In truth, none of this should bother him. They were both single, willing adults. There were no spurned spouses to be concerned about, no jealous other lovers. Why should it bother him if they sought out one another for physical release? There union wasn't one of love, but they both realized this. They weren't trying to fool themselves into believing this would ever be anything more. And, though he could barely admit it to himself, he comprehended his need for her, even if it only came once a month.

A smile spread across his face as he acknowledged his luck in having her here beside him, two weeks before he normally did. Whatever her reason for being here now, he refused to analyze it further. Especially with her still lying practically naked beside him.

Turning his gaze to the side, he let his eyes roam over her body, still clad in a bra, garters, stockings and heels. She was covered in a light film of sweat and her chest was rising and falling rapidly with her breathing. Leaning down again, he picked up her foot and removed her shoe. He let her silk encased leg slide in his hand till her foot was once again on the floor before repeating the action with the other shoe.

Moving from the bed to kneel before her, his hands made quick work of the fastenings that held her stockings up, and he peeled the silk down her thighs, one after the other. He started at her right foot, massaging it with firm, swift strokes of his fingers and thumb. After placing a gentle kiss on each of her toes, he let his hand drifts higher, massaging her ankles and then up to her calf. His kisses followed his hands as he worked his way up to her thighs, letting her leg drape over his shoulder as he went.

As his hands made their way up to knead her hips, his mouth sucked strongly on the sensitive inner flesh of her right thigh. He briefly kissed the juncture at her thighs, allowing his tongue one long, slow, swipe up the delicate flesh hidden there, before he began to work his way down her left leg. By the time he had reached her left foot her breathing had increased to soft pants. He paused at her feet, both of them dangling over his shoulders, before running his hands up the outside of her thighs and gripping her hips firmly.

He delicately moved between her legs, letting them smooth over his shoulders to hang down his back. Lifting her hips, he brought his mouth between her thighs and began to gingerly caress the juncture between them. He explored her with long, slow swipes of his tongue, starting at the bottom of her cleft before dragging his tongue up to flick her clit. After repeating the motion several times, his lips closed around the tiny, swollen bud and he began a mild, but steady, suction.

He loved doing this. Loved the feel of her thighs tightening against his shoulders, hearing her cries of anguished joy, feeling her hips rise to meet his mouth. He loved how powerful she made him feel. He had complete control over her pleasure and he reveled in it.

Tilting her pelvis, he redoubled his efforts, causing her to writhe in his hands, making it difficult for him to maintain her elevated position. While one hand continued to hold onto her, the other slipped up to deftly unsnap her garter belt. Once the garment was undone, he flung it aside and lowered her body back down to the bed, his lips never losing contact. With his hands now free, they began to explore as well, one sliding up to stroke her stomach while the other slid down to join his mouth.

Her breathing was erratic and she was trying desperately to maintain control as his tongue and fingers did wonderful things to her body. Unconsciously, she began to rock her hips up towards his mouth, the muscles in her thighs clenching as he continued his ministrations. He took her motions as a sign of her impending climax and he adjusted the speed and pressure of his strokes. After being with her several times, he knew exactly what it took to send her flying over the edge.

Moments later, she was shouting, her back arching off the bed, her hips pressing firmly down against him as her climax overtook her. He carefully eased from between her legs and moved up beside her. Taking her into his arms, he kissed her forehead softly, soothing back her hair as her body trembled from her orgasm. As his hands trailed down her back, he came in contact with the straps of the bra she still wore. Unhooking it, he drew it away from her body, laying her back onto the bed as he did.

He leaned over her, supporting himself with one arm as the other skimmed up her collarbones, over her neck to rest on her cheek. Stroking her cheek lightly, he waited for her to regain control of her breathing. He placed several soothing kisses over her brow and cheeks, working his way down to her neck. His lips fastened onto the sensitive flesh just below her earlobe, teasing it with teeth and tongue. Nibbling down the muscular column of her neck, he lapped at the base of her throat.

While his lips cherished her, his hands were not idle. They traced with feather light caresses over her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, anywhere he could touch. Using the combination of his mouth and hands, he worshipped her body. Once again, she was writhing beneath him and he hastily grabbed another condom, putting it on with practiced ease.

Shifting so their bodies were aligned, he maneuvered his hips into the cradle of hers, his hands spreading her thighs with care. He placed the head of his erection just inside her body, before straightening so his face loomed just inches above hers. Reaching for her hands, he laced their fingers, pinning their joined hands beside her head, he delved into her body with one strong stroke.

Her shout filled the room, as he buried himself deep within her and held himself motionless. Bracing his forehead against hers, he rested there, using the moment to regain his control so he could draw out the pleasure for both of them, prolonging the moment to orgasm for as long as possible. He felt their breaths mingle together, as they both panted with longing. His eyes squeezed shut and he began an excruciatingly slow, steady thrusting.

He could feel her stomach grazing his with every downstroke, every ragged breath. Keeping his pace languorous, he concentrated on the feel of her body around him, the sounds of their breathing and the soft slap of skin against skin. As their bodies met, he savored the taste of her salty skin, the feel of her heat enveloping him, her legs squeezing tightly around his waist.

After many long minutes or hours or days, he could no longer distinguish time, he felt her muscles clamp around him with vise-like intensity. Smiling, he began to nuzzle her neck as he now allowed himself to plunge into her at a slightly more rapid pace.

Her vocalizations grew in volume as he released her hands and lifted her hips tightly against him. Moving his hands down to her thighs, he forced her to straighten her legs underneath him, creating wonderful sensations in both of them. Her whole body seemed to tighten around him as he reached places inside her he hadn't been able to in their previous position.

Snaking her hands down his back, she pressed hard on his backside, arching against him as she climaxed noisily for the third time that night. The pressure of her walls clamping down on him proved to be too much for him. With a loud cry, he pressed as deeply into her as possible and exploded, burying his head in her shoulder.

For long moments they lay together, motionless except for the rapid rise and fall of their chests against one another and the calming stroke of her hands on his back. He eventually lifted his weight from her and rolled to the side. He stood leisurely, then swiftly ridded himself of the used condom, before handing her the glass of wine from beside the bed. She propped herself up on the pillows to sip her wine, as he flopped onto the bed beside her.

He watched the way her lips rested on the wineglass as she dragged the edge of the glass along her lower lip unconsciously, before tipping the liquid into her mouth. Resting the flute against her stomach, he noticed her chewing on her lip.

Propping himself on his elbow, he reached a finger out to skim over the lip she was gnawing on. "Wanna talk about it?"

She turned to face him and he noticed a questioning look fall over her face. "What do you mean?"

"Well," his hands trailed across her chin, over her neck, and down to circle her breast. "Not that I mind in any way having you here two weeks ahead of our regular meeting, I just thought you might want to discuss whatever made you decide to pick up that phone last night and call me.""Oh." Leaning over, she placed her now empty glass back on the end table before lying down on the bed. He couldn't tell if she was intentionally avoiding eye contact or merely looking ahead to avoid straining her neck. Either way, he couldn't see her eyes. "Just a hard week, I guess."

"I thought your finals were last week."

This made her turn to look at him. "They were. How did you know that?"

He could tell by her expression that he had surprised her. "You mentioned it last time we were together. You were kinda stressed out studying for them.""I didn't realize...I mean, I just didn't think that you'd remember. It's not like it's all that important, I mean, finals. Anyway, they're over now." She tilted her legs to her side, keeping her back against the bed and staring at the wall.

"So, if finals are over, then what was so hard about your week? School's pretty much over till next semester.""That's kinda the problem." Her voice dropped to a whisper, which raised his curiosity.

"Hey," placing his hand under her chin, he turned her to face him. "I don't get it. Finals being over should be a good thing. Why would lack of school work make your week so hard?"

Sighing deeply, she attempted to explain what she meant. "Things are less difficult for me when I have a lot to do. The busier I am, the easier my life is. When I have too much spare time I end up...I start thinking about things that I shouldn't think about."

"Oh." There was really nothing else he could say. He knew exactly what she was thinking about. Or more precisely, he knew whom she thinking about and why that made for a difficult week. He watched as she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, stretching.

"I should get going. It's late and I still have to drive home." She yawned loudly before reaching down for her underclothes. Scooting closer to where she sat, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back onto the bed, half on top of him. He smiled at her soft giggle, which was his intended effect.

"You could stay." It wasn't entirely abnormal for him to make this offer. She had stayed once or twice in the past. For some reason, he didn't want her to be alone tonight. To be honest, he didn't really want to be alone tonight either. "It is pretty late."

"I've left later than this before and you know it." He heard the trace of a laugh in her voice and noticed she made no move to get up.

Tightening his arms around her, he let his hand run over the taut skin of her stomach. "Maybe I just...maybe tonight's not such a great night for being alone." He realized that not only had his tone grown serious, but his voice had also dropped to a low murmur. Trying to lighten the moment he rushed to add, "Besides, you've drank almost a whole bottle of wine, you little lush." Which he accompanied with tickles up and down her ribs, causing her to giggle and squirm.

"Well, if I'm staying then I want another glass of wine. If I'm going to be called a lush, at least I can try to live up to the reputation. So, why don't you go get me another glass and I'll go clean up a little in the bathroom."

He watched her rise from the bed and saunter naked across the room to the lavatory, mesmerized by the sight of her shapely hips and ass as they swayed with her steps. His previously forgotten guilt was apparently just temporarily pushed aside, for it reared its ugly head as he walked with her glass into the kitchen.

Damn it, there was no reason for him to feel guilty. Rationally, logically, he knew he wasn't doing anything wrong. And yet...He knew she was in love with someone else. And even though he wasn't in love with her, in fact he too loved another, it still seemed as though they were doing something immoral. If not immoral, than at least socially unacceptable. Fuck, when did he ever care about what was acceptable? Yanking the refrigerator door open, he took out the wine and refilled her glass. He jammed the cork back in the bottle and shut the door, then took a few deep breaths. He was not going to let this stupid misguided notion of guilt eat away at him. Maybe the fact that they were both in love with other people was what was getting to him so badly. He threw the door to the fridge open again and grabbed a bottle of water. Then, kicking the door shut with his foot, he took the water in one hand and the wineglass in the other and stalked naked back to the bedroom.

The sight of her lying across his bed, completely unabashed by her nakedness, momentarily took his breath away. Regardless of anything else, she was gorgeous. She had an innocent sensuality that made his stomach flutter. He knew that he was smiling broadly as he chided himself for thinking of the woman who had been riding him like a bronco not two hours ago as "innocent".

"What's so funny?" her smile matched his own as she reached up to take her drink from him.

"Just thinking about something." That was a sufficiently vague and cryptic answer. Gulping down a large portion of water, he did indeed let himself return to his musing. His thoughts and his feelings had both jumped back to full guilt mode at the thought of her as innocent. Maybe all this guilt was stemming from the idea that he was using her. Was he using her? He hated thinking that was even a possibility, but perhaps that was where all of his turmoil was stemming from.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"How do you know they're worth it?" He knew his voice sounded glum, but he couldn't prevent it. His thoughts had suddenly taken a dark turn, and he certainly didn't appreciate his new theory. Did he dislike it so much because he knew it was true?

"I'd guess from the expression on your face that they're worth even more. I'd go as far as a dime."

He could tell she was teasing him in an attempt to lighten his mood, but that only made it worse. She deserved better than this. "Do you think what we're doing is wrong?"

She looked up at him for a moment in surprise, before schooling her features and replying with a serene "No."

Her answer was so quickly given and so brief, he wondered if she had even though about her response. He felt her shift beside him and he realized she was kneeling on the bed to his right, her hands on her thighs. "Do you think what were doing is wrong?" she asked very seriously.

"I don't know." He sighed, suddenly finding his fingernails very interesting, at least in giving him an excuse not to make eye contact. "I didn't used to think so, but now...now I'm not so sure."

"Why?" Her question wasn't confrontational or accusatory, merely curious. "Has something changed?"

"No," he wondered if she had heard him. He was so quiet suddenly. Clearing his throat in an attempt to dislodge the lump that had suddenly formed there, he continued. "I just don't know if it's fair or right, the way we use each other. Doesn't it bother you?"

"No." He felt her small hands cover his and he looked up, finally meeting her eyes. After giving him a brief smile, she spoke to him in a sure, steady voice. "It doesn't bother me because I don't see it as us using each other. Before any of this, you were my friend. Regardless of any of this, you still will be. If we...seek comfort in each other, where's the harm? As long as neither of us are being hurt by our actions, who is anyone to judge what we do and say it's not right?" An alarmed look crossed her features before adding, "Are you getting hurt by...this?" She gestured towards the rumpled bed that they both still occupied to clarify her meaning.

"No. No, it's not me that I'm worried about. I don't know if all of this is fair to you!" Flustered, he lowered his suddenly loud voice back down to a more intimate tone. He knew that the only way for any of this to make any sense was for him to be completely honest and just tell her what he was thinking. Maybe she could decipher what was running through his jumbled brain. Reaching out, he pushed her hair out of her face, tucking the stray strands behind her ear before letting his palm settle against her cheek.

"You're so beautiful, and so intelligent. Anyone would want you; they'd be blind not to. If it...If I weren't in the picture, then maybe you could...find someone new. If there's any chance that you could fall in love again, with someone who loves...someone who's allowed to love you in return, then I don't want to be the person that holds you back. I don't want what we have to prevent you from finding someone new."

"So noble," she said with a wry smile. "When did you become so selfless? And anyhow, I had met someone once and I told you about it right then, remember? You didn't effect that." Her tone was slightly defensive, her voice raising with her passionate denial. "What if I've already decided that I don't want to fall in love ever again? What if all I need is a little...contact with another person from time to time? Someone I trust and care about, but don't have to worry about any kind of messy romantic entanglements cause I know his heart is already taken? Is that so bad?"

He mulled this over silently. She had a point. The one time she found someone that she might be interested in dating, she had told him and they had stopped seeing each other. He had never been happier to receive a phone call as he had been when she called him six weeks later to ask if she could see him again. It wasn't about the sex. It wasn't some misguided feelings of love he was having for her. In truth, it was just not seeing her. He understood what she meant about needing contact, because he had been miserable not knowing when he would see her again. Just for someone to talk to and even hold hands with. Someone to remind him he was still living.

"That time we stopped seeing each other? When you had met..." she nodded indicating she knew what he referring to and he thankfully continued without having to say anything more. "That was really hard on me." He rushed on before she had a chance to misinterpret what he was about to say. "It had nothing to do with the sex or any deep feelings or anything. It's just...it's never been easy for me to...to let people in. To make new friends or anything. The worst thing about that time was just not being able to see you. Even if we would have gone out for dinner and then gone our separate ways, I would have been fine. But just cutting everything off like that...I mean, we say we're friends, right? And at one time maybe we were. Now, now we're really more like lovers. Shit, we aren't even lovers cause there's really no love involved. We're more like "fuck buddies" but without the buddy part."

He rubbed his hands over his tired eyes before running them through his mussed hair. A stall tactic, really. He knew his words had more than likely hurt her and he hated himself for that, but he needed to be honest with her. For once in his life he wanted to be completely honest with someone. Noticing that it had been sometime since he finished speaking and she still hadn't started, he looked up. He found her sitting silently in front of him, nodding her head ever so slowly. "I just poured my heart out here, and you know how often that happens, so could you say something please?"

Leaning over, she took his face in her hands and held him so he was forced to look directly at her. "What I'm about to say is something that I've never said before and may never say again, so listen closely."

This was it. The shit was going to hit the fan. No matter what people told him about being honest, he was now sure it was all a crock. All honesty ever lead to was misery and he....

"You are entirely right and I'm sorry."

OK, So maybe they weren't all wrong. There could be something to this honesty bit that he had never thought of.

"We may have the fucking part down pretty well," she said with a slight blush that caused not only her face to turn a light pink, but her neck and the top of her chest as well. "But I think we've both forgotten how to do the buddies part and for that I'm truly sorry. Perhaps if we both work on it, we can remember what it is that friends do. Start out simple with maybe a movie sometime? A phone call every now and then when one of us needs to talk? Think we could manage that?"

There was a grin on her face, but he also noticed the tears in her eyes. He brought his arms up around her and pulled her in for a hug. "You might get lucky some night and have me cook dinner here for us." He felt the chuckle vibrate through her body before he heard it.

"I'm not sure I'm quite that brave just yet." Pulling back, she got a far away look in her eyes right before leaning forward and pressing her lips to his.

It was a chaste, closed mouth kiss. More of a gentle pressing of two lips than a kiss really, but it conveyed a wealth of emotion. That single action convinced him that not only would their bizarre arrangement survive, but it also wiped his mind of any traces of guilt and doubt. They were able to find in one another something that was missing in their lives. Though they didn't share love, they shared a history that no one else would ever know of or understand. They had a mutual pain that couldn't be comprehended unless it was lived through, and that was enough to hold them together.

"Are we going to be OK?" she asked as she lay down on the bed beside him.

"I think we are. Though it may just kill us trying to remember how to do the 'friendship' thing. You'll have to lead on that one. You were always better at that than me in high school." He also settled into bed, reclining his head on a folded up pillow and tugging the sheet over their legs.

"Nah. I really only had a few close friends back then. I just knew how to fake it." Though she accompanied her statement with a snicker, he could tell by her wistful expression that she was thinking back to those high school friends. He wondered if she stayed in contact with any of them, or if she too had lost touch with them aside from the occasional phone call or letter.

She was snuggled down on the bed beside him, not really cuddling with him, but not avoiding contact either. Simply lying there, letting whichever body parts fell close enough to touch him do so. Her breathing was steady and deep and he wondered if she was asleep yet.

"Do you ever think about them?" His voice in the silence of the room startled him and he wondered if his question had awakened her, or if she simply wasn't sleeping.

"I try not to, but sometimes I can't help it." Giving a mirthless laugh, she continued. "You'd think after all these years it wouldn't hurt so much. I guess the whole 'time heals all wounds' thing is a lie."

"When we make...when we have sex, does that make it worse? Remind you more of what you had?" He was propped up on one elbow now, lying on his side so he could look down at her. Noticing her distress, he brought his free hand up to rub soothing circles onto the exposed flesh on her stomach. She wore a pensive expression, giving his question serious thought before answering.

"I think being with you helps me forget him. With him I never...Well, I was more subdued and it was all awkward exploration and declarations of love. It was rushed and kinda fumbling, but at the same time perfect cause it really was an expression of love." She reached up hastily to brush away the lone tear that had made its way down her face.

"Being with you...it shows me that I can be with another person and still enjoy myself and still feel all those physical things that I thought left me when he did. In a way, it lets me know that I don't belong to him. That I can manage without him and still be all right." She offered him a brave smile, reaching down to take his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. "What about you? Does it remind you of her and make it hurt more?"

"Yes and no." He could tell by her look that he had confused her so he tried to explain. "Yes, being with you reminds me of being with her, but that doesn't hurt me. She...There haven't been a whole lot of people who've loved me in my life. I know she did. No matter what happened and through all of the craziness she had to go through because of me, she still loved me with all her heart. That's something that I don't want to...that I can't ever let myself forget."

Tugging on his arm, she pulled him down on the bed giving him a brief hug before settling beside him. He fought against the urge to ask, and possibly bring up unpleasantly memories, but he couldn't help it. "Do you...Do you ever hear from her?"

He heard her deep sigh and knew it wasn't the best question, but now that it was out there, he needed to know.

"I used to get letters every month or so, now it's dwindled down to every couple of months." She paused and he could tell by her expression she was debating something internally.

"Go ahead. I can handle whatever you have to say. If she's with someone or married or whatever, that's fine. As long as she's happy, it's fine." He wondered if she could hear his heart breaking as he said this, but still, his desire for the truth outweighed his need to guard his heart. And he did wish her all the happiness in the world. He just hoped he was strong enough to listen to what she had to say.

"It's nothing like that. She hasn't met anyone, or if she has, she hasn't said anything." His sigh of relief seemed deafening in the stillness of he room. "I just...I told her that I had run into you a couple of months back and that you were doing well. I thought that maybe she might have something that she wanted to say or...I'm really sorry. She just said that it was good to know you were OK and it was never brought up again."

His arms squeezed her tighter as he tried to ignore the pain in his chest. At least she knew he was all right and didn't have cause to worry. He didn't blame her for not wanting to know more. Not considering the way things had ended between them.

"I talk to him on the phone every couple of weeks." He knew she'd understand whom he was talking about even though he didn't use a name. "He asked about you. Wanted to know if I ever saw you or if I could see about finding you to make sure you're doing well. I guess he asked someone where you were going to school cause he knew we were in the same town."

"What did you say?" She had rolled in his embrace so that she was now facing away from him; one arm lying underneath her neck while the other rested on her hip. Her words had been so softly spoken that he had to strain to hear them.

"I told him an abbreviated version of the truth. That I saw you once in a while and sometimes we'd go to dinner to catch up." He mentally disputed whether to tell her the rest or not. While it may hurt her now, he decided it would be best, in the long run, if ever she determined to go after what she really wanted, to tell her the truth.

"He asks about you every time we talk." He murmured softly into her hair. Then he shared with her the words he was told at the end of each phone conversation he had with her absent love. "He thinks about you all the time, and he's still very much in love with you."

Tremors wracked her small frame as sobs tore through her body. She curled into a fetal position and wept for the only man she ever loved; the one man she knew could never be hers. He felt his own tears pool in his eyes at her pain and the similarity of their situations.

And, as any true friend would, Michael wrapped Liz in his arms, comforting her as she cried herself to sleep.