A/N- I apologise in advance for not having the next part of SF up and running. Having a few problems with the final battle so i haven't got around to re-editing part 19b yet. Also my beta-extraordinaire is going away- WAH. Hope you have a wicked time in US Itay!

Anyway, thought i'd post this as a peace offering. Based on the Catherine Britt song of the same name.

I sit alone in this run down, health hazard bar that smells like it should have been cordoned off by the public health authority decades ago, and try to block the ache that ebbs through me as real as the stench that permeates the place.

Ebb- it's a good word, evokes a kind of lost memory of being at the sea-side, feet in the soft, grainy sand and hair blown about by the salt-tainted breeze, the one time I actually made the trip to the shore for something other than work. I remember the smell of salt and vast expanses of water that made the inner feline shudder with horror.

The white crested waves came in and went out with regularity, like breathing, and I found myself timing my breaths to the rhythm of the tide, closing my eyes to imagine being swept away by the deep blue.

It was soothing and almost hypnotic, making you wish you were someone else, someone with time to spend doing nothing other than standing there and enjoying it.

I wonder if I went back now I would have the same sensations of peace and tranquillity, now that I know who and what I am and how many people would like to hack me into little pieces for being it.

Would you feel harmony and serenity if you knew that you were public enemy number one, two and three?

I don't feel like a public enemy. In fact right now I don't even feel like White's enemy.

What I am is a girl who feels down.

It is now four hours and six minutes since I broke up with Logan for good.

Oh, I know I've said that time and time again and it's gotten so that even I hate the very sound of the words, knowing that I've worn them out and worn them down until they are meaningless.

Sometimes words are like that. Like your name, if you say it again and again and again, soon it loses meaning as a word and just becomes a sound, an utterly wrong sound that doesn't mean anything.

That's what those words became for me. "We're not like that".

And now we're not.

Really not.

I should feel something; some sense of anger or betrayal or something to suggest that the years of loving him were worth it; worth the anguish that splitting should bring and, yet, I feel nothing.

I suppose that had something to do with the fact that I walked in amidst a marathon tongue-tangling session with Asha, or maybe the fact that it's been years since I truly cared.

We've been doing this on-again, off-again crap for so damn long that the very idea of us being off forever does nothing more than make me feel foolish for staying so long in the same position of not friend but not-quite girlfriend.

How obvious does fate have to be before it hits you that you just weren't mean to be?

But that's all over now and I sit here in my barstool and try to understand why I feel so down.

Alec is off out with another one of his one-night stands, O.C. is with her new girl and even Sketchy has rustled up a date for Saturday night.

Maybe that's it. I'm down because I have no one and haven't for so very long. I got used to the idea of being with Logan, even though we weren't together really and to be so very finally and truly alone it's dragged me down. There has to be a way to stop this slow descent into depression and I wish that I could find it.

The secret isn't in my cheap as possible, nasty as hell beer, no matter how much I wish it was. Maybe it would take away the taste.

I look up and watch in the mirror above the bar as women and men touch and kiss and hold hands and the girls preen whilst the boys watch.

I see one blonde girl with her hair in curls and face artfully made up, touching up her lipstick after smooching with her guy. He's watching her as she reapplies and I know he's just thinking of rubbing it off again.

I don't have to do that anymore.

There, number one. I don't have to put on make up and I don't have to do my hair, to dress up for some guy.

That's an up side.

Not that I ever really bothered with any of that girly crap anyway, except when Logan was taking me out somewhere. Not that we've been anywhere in a while. It kinda puts a damper on the evening when you have to be careful not to touch your date for fear it'll end in the morgue rather than in bed.

I guess I never really saw the point in preening. I mean if things go right then the guy is gonna see you first thing in the morning before you have had time to put on your make-up, and your hair resembles something a cat wouldn't drag in. He'll be confronted with reality pretty soon, so what is the point in putting it off?

He might as well see what he is letting himself in for.

I watch, nursing my beer as the blonde grabs her friend and the two girls come over to the bar chatting about their boyfriends, who are sat back at the table with ridiculous grins on their faces. The brunette flashes her cleavage and waits for the barkeep to catch stop drooling and serve them. The blonde keeps shooting eyes over her shoulder to her guy and I think she might trip over her own feet if she doesn't watch where she is going.

"Shall we get triple chocolate death surprise cake?" the brunette asks with a giggle.

"Oh, that would be so nice; we could get a double sundae each." She refuses to take her eyes off her guy and is blowing kisses in the mirror. I feel sick.

"Would Mike mind?" the other asks worriedly. "I don't want to pile on the calories so early in the relationship."

"We'll be burning it off soon enough," the blonde says with a wink and I fight the urge to roll my eyes but they have given me what I need.

I could go back to my apartment and open a vat of ice cream and I wouldn't have to share. There wouldn't be any need to work it off either because no one would be there to notice me gaining a couple of pounds of pure unadulterated chocolate mint chip goodness.

No one there to notice.

I guess that's an up side too.

The thought doesn't do much to make me feel better actually, although I know that ass soon as I hit home I will be heading for that damn ice-cream.

As I search my mind for other reasons to cheer up I see the blonde girl shrugging out of her coat and the sparkles on her glitzy top make me smile.

I used to love clothes like that; of course they weren't practical for a cat-burglar and I had to ditch a load of them.

Now, of course, I can get rid of some of the belongings that Logan has dumped on me and I'll have twice the closet space which I can fill up with new things.

I can now buy and wear clothes like that. I could buy new biker gloves. I could buy the new plasma screen TV that Alec is always insisting I need. I could spend the money I investing in looking for a cure to our non-touching rule into buying a proper apartment.

Hell, I could blow it all on new shoes or paint my whole bedroom pretty pink with lacy girl curtains if I wanted.

I wouldn't, because I haven't had a lobotomy recently; but I could.

I no longer have to deal with Eyes Only's gear clogging up my room or Logan's weird obsession with fishing for the truth. I won't have to worry about where to put my feet in case I step on his disks detailing the dirt on every scumbag in the city.

There's another up side.

Oh, I know that in the days to come I will be feeling low and down over being the one left standing. I will feel bad and want to sob rivers of tears over being alone.

I won't cry though. I am done crying over Logan Cale.

The thing is that I know that once you hit the bottom there is only one place left to go. When you know you can't feel any worse, odds are, you won't.

That's an up side to.

I could have Joshua over; Logan never really got on with the dog-man and its way past time that Josh and I had a catching up session. I missed the big guy and we could even have a sleep over; Joshua sleeping on my bed without Logan's constant jokes about dog-hair on the sheets or pets on the furniture.

And there's another thing. There'll be no more arguing with Logan over trivial little things that he just won't let go because he always has to be right. Because he thinks that he's infallible and Eyes Only is always right about everything. Now I can be right all the time and will never have to lose or concede an argument to keep the peace.

I won't miss his constantly talking in the third person either; does he know he sounds like Yoda?

The blonde girl has gotten up to dance with her friend and another man is trying it on. She's flattered by the attention and laughs, sending her boyfriend into fits of jealousy. He stands up and walks over, his arms swinging like a distempered ape and he stands behind her, glaring and spitting flames.

She pushes the other man away and starts to argue with her guy. I know she'll concede, like I no longer have to.

And… and I can dance with whoever the hell I want to when I go out and not have to be worried that Logan is feeling jealous or angry at me for having fun.

Fun. I can have fun again.

I wonder if I remember how.

I tap my beer on the side and watch the blonde again, dragging her boyfriend off the dance floor and poke him in the chest for being a jerk.

At least she can stand up for herself.

"Hey, Max."

I look up into the mirror above the bar and see Alec standing behind me, his leather jacket creased and his eyes sleepy.

"Hey," I say and he shifts from one foot to another.

He tries for a smile but misses due to the worry in his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," I reply and spin on the seat to look at him with his tousled hair and sheepish grin. He looks like he just climbed out of someone's bed.

"Logan called and said that you might need a friend right now. Uh, any idea why Logan called me to tell me that?"

He actually came out after that to see if I was okay. I can tell by the look on his face that he was worried and I smile. "I caught him doing Asha. He probably thinks I'm gonna do something stupid."

He looks at me, searching deeper than I'd like. "Are ya?"

"I already dated Logan, how much more stupid do you think I could be?" I scoff and he relaxes some.

He slides into the seat next to me and sees me watching the blonde.

"Friend of yours?"

"More likely to be one of yours," I say and he nods, trying to remember if she is one of the many women he has slept with.

"Don't think so," he teases. "But there have been a few and it's hard to tell with my black book. She could just be one of your friends."

"I don't think I've ever had a friend with hair that colour. Even Kendra tried to be natural." I take a sip of tepid beer and make a face at the taste of lukewarm imported crap. "I thought you had a date tonight with… uh, Grace?"

"Gretchen," he amends and reaches out of steal some of my beer. "Yeah, I did. Just left her asleep in her own apartment."

I ignore the odd feeling that comes of knowing that he left some girl to come and check on me. "She not do it for ya?" I say in lieu of saying 'thanks'.

He shrugs, knowing what I meant anyway. "She was hot, dumb as a post and good in the sack."

"Problem?"

"The dumb as a post wasn't as entertaining as I thought."

I smile again and he gives me an odd look. "I thought you'd be more broken up, somehow. You know, you and Logan long lost soul mates, whatever."

"Me and Logan have been 'not like that' for so long, now we are 'not like that' for good. It's almost funny."

"Uh huh."

"Plus I was just enumerating all the ways that not being in a relationship is good."

"Like?" he frowns.

I open my mouth to say something and the blonde in the mirror catches my eye as she kisses her boyfriend, their fight forgotten. There is passion and forgiveness and some kind of love there and it makes me forget all of my reasons.

"You had to have been there," I mumble and Alec watches me for a second.

"Wanna go to that bike rally over on sixth? I hear there's a thousand dollars for the winner."

I raise an eyebrow. "I don't need a babysitter, Alec. No matter what Logan said to you. Go back to Gremlin. I'm fine and I'm not moping or depressed. I'm a little down but there's only one place left to go when you hit the bottom and that's up." I look down at the dregs of beer left. "Either that or get a new drink."

"Philosophical." He nods. "But maybe I need some cheering up and could use the company. Gretchen wasn't a real red-head."

I throw my head back and laugh and it feels good for the first time in an age.

"Take pity on me," Alec begs, his eyes sparkling with laughter and I realise that I can spend time with Alec without feeling guilty about lying to Logan or betraying him with a guy that he doesn't like.

I drain my beer and stand up. "Okay, pretty boy, let's go."

He reaches over and grabs my jacket, holding it whilst I put it on and leaves his arm around me as we walk out.

I consider telling him to move it or lose it but, as I look over my shoulder, the blonde and her boyfriend are making out on the table and I figure I deserve this. I deserve the comfort and I'm allowed it.

I can do this now.

I snuggle into Alec's arm to his and my surprise and smile to myself enjoying the touch, the closeness and the moment.

I can enjoy the moments and I can take my time coming up from the bottom.

I guess that's the up side of being down.