Disclaimer: To the creators and producers of "Cupid" I bestow the ownership of the four lovely characters in this fictional piece of work. I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun. No infringement intended.

A huge thank you to Steve for beta reading. Please send comments to me at [email protected]

***

The Day After Tomorrow

by Dawn

Part One

Feeble rays of sunlight tried to penetrate the fog that enveloped the city of Chicago. It was almost noon, but there was no bright daylight giving that away. The streets were empty as if people were hibernating, trying to escape the cool weather, using the darkness as an excuse to stay in. Maybe lying in bed with an edition of Mary Higgins Clark's newest novel, or huddled on the couch by a fireplace with a boyfriend, a lover. They would giggle, enjoying a day off work, finding comfort in each other. It was a day for sharing your thoughts with your sweetheart. But not for Claire Allen. She was sitting, alone, at the cemented edge of the fountain in the middle of the park off the side of her office building. The fountain was dry, having been turned off in preparation for the nearing winter.

Pulling her coat tighter around her, she scooted a little against the cold. Each breath crystallized and formed a small cloud of steam in front of her. Yes, she was alone all right. It had already been six months since Alex had left her. She had loved Alex, she was sure of that. But somehow that had not been enough.

She remembered when during one of she and Alex's last dinners together, he had asked her to wear his gift for her. She had gone into her bedroom to find the necklace with the heart shaped pendant she had received on Valentine's Day. When she had returned to the table wearing it, smiling happily, he had commented that it was a nice necklace, but where was the "My boyfriend went to N.Y. and all I got was this lousy T-shirt" I-miss-you gift he had sent her the first week after having gone to New York.

That was when she had realized that the necklace was not from Alex, but in fact from her omnipresent, ever-meddling, personal space invader, Trevor. She had also realized that Trevor had given it to her to help her keep her relationship with Alex, for inscrutable reasons. She had at first ignored this little slip on Alex' part, but later she had asked him about it. Where were all the spontaneous flowers, the phone calls he had promised? And to Claire's astonishment Alex had right out of the blue asked her if this was because of Trevor.

"I'm sorry that I'm not around you 24 hours a days like he is, Claire, and I'm sorry that I haven't made up for that with buying you enough gifts. I'm sorry that I don't give you the undivided attention he does just because I have a life. But most of all I'm sorry that my love for you can't be a match for Trevor's inciting personality."

Claire had stood there, mouth open in disbelief and shock. She had wanted to protest, but found no adequate words. And that had been the end of that. Then Frank had been there, briefly. It was nice to find comfort in someone. But in the end he had left her just as abruptly as he had come into her life. He had told her that he wasn't what she was looking for. And now...

Sighing Claire blinked a few times, trying to focus through the fog on a distant tree. She ought to be at work now; she ought to work on her book on Trevor. She ought to find someone who would love her the way she wanted to be loved. She didn't deserve being alone, not in a cold time like this. It depressed her and made her miss the closeness she had shared with Alex. She had given him everything, hadn't she? Why hadn't it worked? Why was she bound to be left behind all the time? She didn't want to be alone; she needed someone who was there for her. She needed... she needed...

"A cup of fattening chocolate straight from the coffee shop!" Claire almost jumped when a gloved hand holding a large paper mug came into view right in front of her. She knew of only one person who would ruthlessly disturb her like this.

"Trevor, loud, overexcited, and importunate," she said, taking the mug offered to her.

"What's an adjective," Trevor promptly replied. "How about 'you, me, and Jacuzzi'?"

"Ah, what's a delusion?"

All of Trevor came into view. He was wearing a dark woolen coat and a large scarf wrapped several times around his neck to block out the cold air. "Speaking of delusion," she continued, "what are you doing here?"

"God of love, Zeus, 100 couples..." When Claire didn't take up the bait Trevor took a seat next to her on the fountain. "I saw your illuminating grin all the way from the other side of the lawn," he said, referring to Claire's broody expression. "Or... maybe Jaclyn just told me you had gone here to do some thinking."

"Hmm, and you naturally came here to spoil that? How nice."

"Thinking isn't good for you, Claire, I can see how close you are to turning into a sad recluse. In no time, you will be frozen in this position." Trevor rested his chin against a knotted fist, imitating the Thinker.

Claire rose and took a sip of her chocolate. "Don't you have work to do Trevor?"

He grinned up at her. "Yes, you!"

"Fruitless work, Trevor, I was thinking more in terms of, say, bartending? Something that will bring money to your money box."

"Oh but you are definitely not fruitless, Claire, I've seen your... "

"No anatomic references, Trevor!"

"... results in work, Claire. Considering your inexperience in the field of love I must say that you do attempt so greatly."

"Bye, Trevor," Claire said, turning to leave.

"And speaking of money boxes, you can pay me if you want, but I'd gladly show you mine for free," Trevor called out after her. Her watched her walking away from him for a while. He just couldn't get enough of trying to poke through her heavy armor. Finishing the rest of his own cup of chocolate, he threw the paper cup over his shoulder and into the dry fountain before quickly setting after Claire.

A few people we now jogging on the paths around the park. Claire walked past them and up the stairs to the sidewalk, trying to escape Trevor, however futile.

Dodging a few of the joggers, Trevor quickly fell in step next to Claire. "Wow, Sparky, you just outran a whole horde of griffins."

"I was trying to outrun you. Same difference I guess."

"Hostile and beautiful too. You know you would make a great amazon, Claire. If you ever meet one..."

"... I'll be sure to buy new books at discount prices, thank you."

Trevor clutched his stomach, twisting his face as he faked a fit of laughter. Claire smiled inwardly. He did look kind of funny grimacing like this, but she was determined not to show him she thought so.

"While you goof around, Trevor, I'll go to work and try to make something useful out of this day. Or what's left of it."

Trevor came out of his act. "I'll come with you. Together we will make your office very useful," he said with a grin. "And your couch, and you desk..."

"No, you will not come with me because you... are going in here." Trevor hadn't realized that they had walked up to Taggerty's, and before he could protest, Claire had given him a shove that sent him stumbling in through the door to the bar. He stood there for a second, then opened the door to call out after her, "It's not even my shift now, you know, I swapped with Champ!"

"No you didn't," Claire said over her shoulder, already crossing the street to go to the office building that housed her practice.

Trevor smiled and let the door close behind him as he shrugged off his coat and scarf, readying himself to his shift at Taggerty's.

***

People filed into the bar in a smooth stream. Tonight wasn't too crowded as the weather was all but appealing to go out in. Still, those that had made it down here were laughing loudly and having a god time. Some of the regulars were dancing to a song that was playing on the jukebox. Trevor watched as a blonde girl left her friends to walk over to a guy seated a couple of booths away. She whispered something in his ear, which made him smile and blush a little. Then she told him something else, and after a few nods he rose and went to the bar where Trevor was swooping a cloth over the desk. Seeing the guy approach, he quickly wiped his hands on his apron, and then produced two glasses, filling them partly with blue liquor.

"I'm guessing tequila in this?" he asked as the man came up to him. He looked surprised, then nodded.

"Yeah, thanks."

Trevor added the rest of the ingredients to the drinks he was making for the guy.

"How did you know...?"

Trevor leaned over the desk. "I'm Trevor, nice to meet you. I'm a bartender, that makes me qualified for this kind of thing. Plus, I've seen the two of you glance over at each other all evening."

"I'm Tom...uh, is that her favorite drink or something?"

"No, but it works every time. Good luck, shy man. I'm glad she worked up the courage to take the first step towards this pre-relationship relationship."

"Oh, uh..." Tom glanced over his shoulder. "If you mean that girl who talked to me... that's not actually her..."

Trevor smiled. "I know. I wasn't talking about her. I meant that she had the courage to ask her friend to go over to you."

They both looked over Tom's shoulder towards a woman with long curly brown hair sitting with her back to them, and next to her the blonde girl who had talked to Tom.

Tom smiled, seemingly relieved.

"Go get her, Tom-man. These are on the house." With that Trevor sent Tom away, drinks in his hands.

Twenty minutes later the couple was deeply engrossed in conversation, and Trevor went back to cleaning the desk for what must have been the fiftieth time this night. He absentmindedly hummed along to the rock ballad playing in the bar as his hand described lazy circles on the wooden counter.

Please tell me why do birds

Sing when you're near me

Sing when you're close to me

They say that I'm a fool

For loving you deeply

Loving you secretly

There just wasn't enough to do that could keep his mind occupied. Instead, whenever the bar door swung open, Trevor found himself looking over, hoping to see the one person that seemed to be more and more on his mind. Well, that could only be natural, Trevor thought, considering that Claire was the closest friend he had here. Okay, his thoughts of her were rarely of a platonic nature, he had to admit that, but still...

The door to Taggerty's was silently mocking him, and Trevor mentally grimaced at it, as a dog might have discarded an old toy.

But I crash in my mind

Whenever you are near

Getting deaf, dumb and blind

Just drowning in despair

Giving himself a mental shake, he threw the cloth into a metal bucket standing on the floor behind the bar. This was stupid, he knew it. Why would she ever spend a Friday night here, of all places? She was probably out with some new hot shot fresh off the compatible academy, comparing high school grades. The thought wasn't very appealing to him.

I am lost in your flame

It's burning like a sun

And I call out your name

The moment you are gone

After Alex had disappeared from her life she had seemed sullen and absent. Trevor hadn't been able to reach her lately. He wasn't sure how to, but he was determined to do what was in his powers to cheer her up. He wasn't going to let her stay in her present state of darkened haze.

With his mind set on that, he once again turned his attention to the promising couple in the back. But every now and then his eyes would still stray to the door, hoping. And the song went on...

Tomorrow

I'll say it all tomorrow

Or the day after tomorrow

I'm sure I'll tell you then

***

In her office Claire sat by her desk with a single light on illuminating the left side of her face as she looked at her computer screen. She had seen three clients this afternoon and she had spent a couple of hours working on her book. Reading through the last passage, she pursed her lips in concentration.

"While Trevor remains rooted in his delusion, I continue to challenge his belief to provoke a subconscious slip that will reveal his true person, both to me and to himself. I have thus far been unsuccessful, but that only fuels me and gives me hope that one day I will be able to help him. He continues willingly to attend my sessions, both privately and with my group, and I take that as a sure sign that deep down he wants something inside of him healed. He does cover it well. Always the bubbling spring, always seeking to be the energetic center of attention. I am convinced that he believes in what he does, and although I cannot see how he benefits from his striving to bring people together, I will admit that his fighting spirit rubs off on the people that come his way. He does bring joy, or at least amusement, to people's lives. His ability to capture an audience and hold them spellbound by his eager persona is a rarity. I truly hope that this is a part of him that he will
keep even after breaking free of the cover that his Cupid delusion is..."

She leaned back a little, thinking to herself. It was strangely ironic that in spite of whatever he had been through in his past, Trevor continued to radiate joie de vivre, while she found it harder and harder to even bring herself to smile at the clerk in the grocery store. Why was she dragging this muted mood around with her? She really ought to do something that would bring a little joy back into her life. She might even take one of Trevor's advice and treat herself with something nice. She could go out with a friend, or the first person who came her way even, just go out and have a good time, push sad thoughts aside for a while.

Smiling to herself, Claire pressed 'save', then shut down her computer. She rose, quickly collecting her stuff, and the next minute she was shutting her office door from the outside. She fumbled with the sleeves of her coat while trying to hold on to her purse and not lose her notebook. She quickly realized that she wasn't that flexible after all. Just when she was about to drop all her things on the hallway floor, her left side collided with something soft that nearly sent her crashing into the wall, had two arms not caught her and prevented it.

"Hey, careful there, oncoming traffic!"

"Uh..." Looking up at the person she had bumped into, she saw a fairly attractive man, maybe a couple of years older than her, looking at her with sparkling eyes.

"Sorry, I was all caught up in..." An idea came to her, and before she could change her mind she flashed him her biggest Colgate smile. The man smiled back at her, a little uncertain.

"Are... you alright?" he politely asked.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you..."

"Andrew Wallace. Here, let me help you with that." Andrew gently took Claire's coat from her, holding it out for her.

"Thanks. I'm Claire..."

"... Allen. I know. I read your book, and I'm a long-time reader of your column." He helped her don her coat and she turned to face him.

"I'm glad to hear that. Uh, I haven't seen you around before..."

Andrew nodded. "I know, I haven't seen you either. That's probably because I work upstairs. I was just down here to get a cup of coffee. Our vending machine is out of order, so..."

"Oh." Come on, Claire, you can do this. It's a simple question. "Well, this may be a little sudden, but... I was just going out myself to get a little something to eat. Maybe you could come with me, and..."

"Ah, that's real nice of you," Andrew replied, "but I doubt that your boyfriend would be very happy about that. He seems very, uh, protective, and I don't want to provoke anything nasty here..." Andrew smiled apologetically.

"E... Excuse me... my boyfriend?"

"Yeah, that guy you are always with, what's his name? Trevor? Yes, Trevor it is."

Claire stared at the man, dumbfounded. "Trevor??? He's not... We're not..."

"'Sides, I really have to work. I probably won't be able to leave here for another three hours. I've been thinking about setting up a camp in my office since I practically live there." He started to walk away from her. "But it was nice bumping into you, Claire."

"But... but..." Arms hanging, mouth gaping, she watched Andrew's form disappear as he turned a corner, leaving her in the hallway.

"This is unbelievable..."

Jaclyn sipped her drink as she listened intently to Trevor as he entertained her with a tale of his mythological family and friends. He paused only to take the occasional order, leaving most of the work to Champ who had come in a while ago. It wasn't very often she spent time alone with Trevor, usually she only came to Taggerty's when Claire took her there, but for once she had wanted to talk to him in private without Claire around to divert his attention.

"So this Persephone, she's an ex-girlfriend of yours?"

"Just old friends. We've fooled around a bit, but nothing serious. Wouldn't want to mess with old Hades, that grumpy guy. She is definitely a girl, though."

"Yeah, we are everywhere," Jaclyn smiled.

Trevor leaned across the bar desk, eyeing her closely. "If only everyone were as edible as you."

Jaclyn tried to hide the light blush she could feel coming, but she didn't succeed very well. "You say that to every female that comes your way, Trevor."

He looked at her for a moment, then frowned. "Are you always this insecure?"

Jaclyn felt slightly uneasy under Trevor's scrutiny, and she fingered nervously with her glass. "Uh... what do you mean?"

"I compliment you, you answer with a "thank you", preferably adding a "likewise" to boost my ego a little, you don't start questioning my credibility by going through a mental list of personal doubts. You are beyond that, Jaclyn."

Smiling a little, she glanced around her. "Well it's not like guys have been lining up to talk to me."

"Talk, no, some between the sheets activity, yes. You haven't seen the looks on some of these love-starved slops, it doesn't take a god to see that they are dying to see your birthmarks."

Jaclyn laughed at that. "Okay, bring one of them, and I'll hop off the insecurity express."

Trevor immediately turned and left the bar, disappearing through the crowd. She took another sip of her drink, thinking that Trevor would probably produce some neurotic bespectacled computer geek. Seconds later Trevor returned with a satisfied smile.

"Coming up on my right is candidate no. 1..."

The minute she saw the man Trevor was waiting for, her eyes widened in surprise. Not at all an unpleasant surprise, more like an unlikely surprise.

"Trevor," she whispered firmly, "you've got to be kidding, there's no way..."

"Oops, I think I just heard the final whistle for that train," he said, raising an eyebrow at her. "You promised."

"But how..."

Just then Champ appeared next to Trevor, a quizzical look on his face. "Someone asked for me?"

Trevor put one hand on Champ's shoulder and another on Jaclyn's. "Ouch, yep, definitely electro shock danger here. Don't set anything on fire." With that he left to pour beer to the waiting queue, leaving the two in peace.

Jaclyn smiled embarrassedly up at the tall and handsome man in front of her. "Uh, hi Champ."

Champ returned the smile, and with a nod towards Trevor's busy form he said, "Leave it to Eros there to set up something like this."

Jaclyn nodded knowingly. "Yeah, but I'm afraid I brought this on myself this time."

"No nemesis can be that cruel, Jaclyn, although as his room mate I've often wondered if I was in fact Attila the Hun is a previous life, or worse."

From where he was standing Trevor couldn't hear what was being said, but he could tell from their relaxed features that all was going fine. Just then the door sprang open, and Linda entered, a worried expression on her face.

"Hey, Trev!" she called. Trevor caught her eye as she hurried up to him, pushing through the crowd. Her hair was dripping with water, having just come in from the shower that had started outside.

"Yeah?"

"I just came from the Jazz Cup a few blocks away. I think you should go there and check on your therapist. She looks like she's trying to battle some demons."

Not sure of what Linda was implying, he nonetheless felt a notch growing in his stomach. Ripping off his apron, he hurried into the personnel area to retrieve his coat, not bothering to button it, and with his scarf hanging loosely around his neck he brushed past Jaclyn and Champ still deep in conversation. They watched him, wondering, as he flung open the door and rushed outside without a word.

Off their quizzical looks Linda explained, "I saw Claire inside the Jazz Cup, and I think she's been doing some heavy drinking. Trevor went to get her before she does something embarrassing."

"Our Claire???" Champ and Jaclyn said in unison.

"Afraid so."

"Maybe I should go there..." Jaclyn said, starting to collect her things.

"I'm sure Trevor will handle it. No need for you to go out in that weather just now."

"Yeah," Champ said, "I'm sure Trevor will manage to do something embarrassing before she can get around to it."

Outside, the downpour washed over the dark streets. Except for the occasional taxi it was more or less devoid of people. Trevor hurried down the street and turned a corner, quickly making his way to the café where Linda had spotted Claire. With his coat still hanging open, flaring out around him, little patches of water started to show on his shirt. It didn't take him more than a few minutes to get to the Jazz Cup. Soft blue light streamed out on the street through large windows.

As he made it inside, he was met with the smell of coffee and liquor. Small round tables covered most of the front area of the place, flanked by a bar to the right and a live band playing a jazzy tune to the left. The place was fairly crowded with a large variety of people, and Trevor wiped his forehead to clear his vision from the rain. Claire was nowhere in sight, so he continued to the back area, passing another bar to his left. The air in the back area was filled with smoke. She couldn't possibly be here, Trevor thought, Claire hated cigarette smoke. Just then a roar of laughter went up from a small crowd to the far right corner, and Trevor zigzagged his way over, partly hoping Claire wasn't the entertaining source.

He spotted her immediately, though, sitting between at least four guys, flirting heavily. She had several glasses standing in front of her, previously filled with drinks and shots, but now empty except for one which she held in her hand. It tipped dangerously to the side, and she seemed to have trouble even keeping herself upright on her chair. Between laughs she either let her head rest in her hands, or she slid to the side, coming to rest against the man sitting on her side to the right. Staring in disbelief at the unusual sight for a moment, he quickly came out of it and determinedly strode forward.

From her point of view, Claire saw a man coming up to stand only a few feet from her. She looked appreciatively at him, attractive as he was, loose coat, white shirt and the neck of a Tee just showing above the first two open buttons. Black pants... then his face suddenly came into focus no more than a few inches from hers and her eyebrows shot up in recognition.

"Tre-vor!" She pointed a shaky finger at him. "It's you! I don't believe you!" She meant to be serious but her present state of mind prevented that, and she had no success in hiding the silly grin that seemed to be plastered on her face.

"Yeah, so you keep telling me. Gods, Claire, you're putting Bacchus on overtime here. What do you think you're doing? Come on, you are coming with me." He put his hands under her arms, easily pulling her up from her seat, ignoring her light protesting.

A man rose from his seat on the other side of the table in front of Claire. "Hey, unless you're some secret husband I suggest you leave her alone, the lady was doing just fine here."

Trevor struggled to hold Claire up while getting her coat and her other stuff.

"Doctor, I'm her doctor, and if I don't get her back to the clinic by midnight she will start growing sharp teeth and claws and go on a killing spree. Believe me, it ain't pretty."

Not knowing how to respond, the man sat down again. The others shrugged once, then turned their attention to other girls at neighboring tables. Before Claire could say goodbye, Trevor had dragged her away and out of the smoke filled room. He hoped they wouldn't have to wait too long for a cab.

Claire giggled, then tried to keep her face serious. "I... you know, Trevor..." she slurred, "This just infura... infuriates me so much and I don't even know why this is happening to me when all... all I try to do is just live my life in a reaalllly regular way but that's just not going to happen is it?" Her words came stumbling out upon each other. Her eyes were partly closed and her steps were out of balance.

Trevor put her arm over his shoulders, holding her upright next to him as he pushed open the door. Judging from her unsteady walk he thought it best to keep her awake by keeping up a conversation. "I don't think I will answer any questions before being informed of the charge, Claire. Can you tell me what I did?"

"Nothing! 'S why I don't get it."

"Believe me, I don't get it either," he said, no clue as to what she was talking about. He searched frantically up and down the streets for a cab, then shot his arm up, waving, as one came towards them. Luckily the shower had stopped, leaving everything dripping with cold water. He tried to wrap Claire's coat around her, but she writhed too much.

"Let me go back in, I was just having a normal conversation with normal people." She struggled lightly to get out of Trevor's grip. He managed to hold her steady until the cab came to a stop next to them.

"Sorry, Claire, you're going home." He crawled in, then dragged Claire along with him, locking the door next to her. He quickly told the driver her address before she started worming her way over him, reaching for the handle on the other side.

"Ah... Midlife crisis," he told the driver who nodded in understanding, speeding away from the Jazz Cup and towards the main street.

"You won't let me live..." Claire complained, still struggling in vain to reach either door. In the end Trevor grabbed both her wrists, holding her hands still.

"As much as I'd like to make out in a cab, I really think we should save it for more appropriate times."

Claire slumped next to him, finally relaxing a bit, mumbling something illegible. Trevor gently tilted her head until it came to rest on his shoulder.

He paid the cab driver, then supported Claire as they made their way up the gangway to her house, one hand holding her at her waist, the other holding her arm as it lay across his shoulder. "Shees, Claire, you are not helping much. Are you making yourself heavier than you are? Maybe you should cut down on all that junk food... Wait, that's my problem, by the way. Okay here we go..."

He had to support Claire with his own body, squashing her against the door as he rummaged through the pockets of her coat, looking for her key. "Here, little key, where are you..." he murmured, pulling open her purse to look there. He didn't notice that Claire was coming back to life again, her eyes slowly opening, looking at the side of Trevor's face as he tried to find the key that would fit in the lock. Finally he got it, and the door swung open, sending both of them crashing inside, grasping at each other as they tried to keep their balance. Claire nearly fell, but Trevor managed to prevent it. She started laughing uncontrollably, and Trevor had to smile himself at the ridiculous situation. Behind them the door shut loudly behind them after colliding with the wall in Claire's hallway.

Standing a little insecurely on her feet, Claire looked at Trevor through heavy eyelids. "Hey, whaddayaknow, I managed to bring a guy into my home."

Trevor waved a hand in front of her. "Hellooo, Claire, I'm the guy who comes in unannounced ruining your morning tranquility. I'm always here."

"You are? You look different..." Taking a step closer to Trevor, she looked at him closely. Her gaze was unfocused, lips slightly parted, her hair tousled. With all her guards down, Trevor thought she looked adorable. For a moment they stood there one foot from each other, then Claire reached up and lightly touched his face, letting her index finger trace his lips.

"I've always wondered," she breathed. There was no time for Trevor to react on the alarm that went off in the back of his mind before Claire's mouth was on his only a split-second later.

It felt as if a surge of electricity shot through Trevor's body, stunning him completely. It centered somewhere in his pit like a heated stone. He tried frantically to escape, to back away, but Claire's hands snaked their way around his neck, holding his head steady. He felt the wall behind him press against his back, making it impossible to move away from Claire's squirming body. This was wrong, it was so wrong, he knew it, but he felt that he wasn't entirely enthusiastic in stopping Claire's assault.

Indecisively, his hands wavered between neutrally resting against the wall behind him and urgently reaching for her waist. Finding the latter to be too tempting, he decided on holding her upper arms lightly, not inviting but not stopping what was happening either.

Her breath was soft and warm on his cheek as she tipped her head to get better access. He felt all his senses coming awake, his body suddenly remembering the luxury of what he had been denied for too long.

"Claire, no..." he tried to protest against her mouth. Instantly she responded to that invitation, her lips parting to meet his, deepening the kiss eagerly. Trevor felt his resistance weakening by the second, his body begging him to give in. The feeling of Claire pressing her slim body against his, her tongue inviting his to duel... Everything was intoxicating, and eventually Trevor stopped questioning his actions, and he found himself responding, kissing her back in kind.

Everything seemed to operate on autopilot as Trevor turned both of them around until Claire was pushed up against the wall. She didn't seem to mind that as she instantly hooked one leg around Trevor's, trying to be as close to him as possible. Her hands seemed to be everywhere on him, and all the body friction made Trevor feverishly hot. Claire's eyes were again closed as she pushed Trevor's coat off his shoulders, scratching her nails down his back until they came to rest on his hips. The indication of that was unmistakable, and taking hold of Claire's leg snaked around him, he pressed his abdomen against her. That provoked a loud groan from her, and the mere sound of that almost made Trevor lose all self-control. He was completely lost, unable to think straight, drowning in a bottomless maelstrom.

Suddenly he was ripped out of his state of haze when he felt her hand graze him lightly. He opened his eyes with a start, as if only just now realizing what has happening. This was Claire, his doctor and his friend, he couldn't take advantage of her like this, what had he been thinking?

Struggling wildly, he managed to detangle himself, almost knocking Claire to the ground in the process. He practically leapt away from her, removing himself physically to what he considered to be a safe distance, namely to the other side of the living room.

She took a few staggering steps to follow him, a confused and dazed expression on her face.

"No no... no no no no no," he stuttered, holding a hand out in front him, willing her to stay away from him. His breath was ragged and his heart was going a 100 miles an hour. "Are you trying to give me heart attack here?"

Claire stopped to support herself against the wall. "Huh?"

"This... this is a really bad idea... Claire." He swallowed hard, trying to calm his racing pulse.

She moved forward a little, her expression falling immediately. "You're rejecting me," she said in a feeble voice.

Trevor slowly shook his head in disbelief. "No." He tried to say it as pointedly as he could. She didn't seem to hear him though, and he watched helplessly as she let herself sink down into her couch, shoulders sagging dejectedly.

"Just like everyone else..."

"I'd never do that, Claire." The pain showing on Claire's sad face was matched by the feeling in Trevor's heart. He didn't know how he could ease the situation, but he knew he couldn't leave her in the state she as in right now. Cautiously he moved towards her, turning on one of her small lamps on his way. The soft light fell on her face, and he saw the glittering of the water forming in her partly closed eyes.

"Listen to me, Claire." Kneeling down besides her, he gently turned her head towards him, catching her look. "As much..." He hesitated, then continued earnestly, "As much as I want to, it can't happen like this. You're not yourself right now. You probably wouldn't even remember it tomorrow." A part of him really wished she wouldn't remember any of this. He didn't fully understand yet what it all meant, and he certainly wasn't ready to confront her with anything like this. "Do you understand?"

She blinked at him a few times, the moist in her eyes blurring her sight even more than it already was, then nodded. "Yeah, I understand. But..." She looked at him, frowning. "What are we talking about?"

In spite of himself Trevor smiled. "Just lie down and try to relax, okay?" She nodded compliantly as he stood and grabbed a couple of pillows, arranging them at one end of the couch. She looked completely beat, and she was struggling to keep her eyes open.

"I'll get you a glass of water. If you don't drink something your body will feel like a dried-up jellyfish when you wake up." He turned and walked to her kitchen, turning on the light there. "Champ's advice, really," he continued, going through all of her shelves in search for the largest glass possible. "Told me in case I decided to take another trip to la-la-land. I don't think I will, though, the last time I was so badly hung over I thought I was going to vomit my bowels out."

Not finding an appropriate glass, Trevor took a carafe and filled it with cold water.

"You know... It's good that nothing happened... between us. It would change everything..."

Trevor stepped into Claire's living room, but stopped in his tracks when he saw her sleeping form curled up on the couch. He hesitated, wondering what to do. Then he stepped forward and placed the water on the table next to her.

Several hours passed while Trevor sat on the floor with his back resting against the sofa. He had been upstairs to get her duvet, gently tugging it around her, as she lay sound asleep next to him. Her hair was tousled across the pillows, and one of her arms hung from the sofa, her hand almost touching the carpeted floor. She looked peaceful, completely unaware of anything around her.

A single light coming from the little lamp at the other side of the living room was the only thing that illuminated the place. The light reflected in the carafe of water, and Trevor watched it while fingering the sheet of colored paper he had found in the kitchen. He had long ago calmed down after the unexpected turn of events, but in the back of his head he knew he was wrong about one thing. Things had already changed.

Rising, he went to the kitchen, finding what he was looking for in a drawer. Two minutes later he stood and looked down at Claire. Then, placing something next to her, he went to turn off the light. His coat and scarf lay where it had been abandoned in the hallway, and he picked them up before quietly opening the front door.

It closed with a light thud, and Trevor shuddered lightly as the cold air contradicted the warmth still emanating from his body. Being suddenly alone in the quiet and dark night, an immense feeling of weariness started to settle upon him, and he moved away from Claire's house, making his way to his shared apartment that was home.

***

Champ put the grocery bags down on the kitchen counter next to the pile of dirty dishes. Trust Trevor never to clean up on his own initiative, he thought with a grunt. He was probably still snoring away in his room, lethargic as ever. Was he imagining it, or had Trevor become lazier lately?

Shrugging, he opened the fridge, only to find old cartons of milk and leftovers long ago gone bad. Champ was in a good mood today, though, and he wasn't about to let some dead food ruin that. The fridge needed cleaning anyway, Champ decided, as he started emptying it. There wasn't any space left on the counter though, and he rose to find a plastic bag to put the garbage in.

Opening a cupboard above him in search for the roll of plastic bags he knew was there somewhere, he happened to nock over a pile of plates, and some of them crashed loudly to the ground, others scattered all over the counter.

"Great," Champ sighed. Just then he heard the sound of Trevor's bedroom door opening, and presumably Trevor's padded steps as he took a few steps into the living room.

"Champ man," came a rusty and sleepy voice, "I heard a sound... and saw a mess. What's happening?"

"Glad you're up, it's well past noon, Trevor. You're just in time to participate in the domestic duties you've so far managed to avoid."

Champ found the black plastic bags he had been looking for and ripping one off he turned to hand it to his roommate.

"Good grace," he exclaimed, "I hope you don't feel as bad as you look."

Trevor did look terrible, morning stubble, hair poking out in all direction, pale and with saggy bags under his eyes.

"Well thanks, I appreciate your honesty." He scratched his Tee-clad stomach while stifling a yawn. He shuffled into the kitchen area.

"Come on, it's the seventh day, the god is resting."

"Not unless you're suddenly Jewish.

"I knew we should have introduced a Sabbath of our own. Okay, then can't the punishing wait until at least after coffee?"

"No coffee, Trevor, 'cause one, there are no clean cups, and two, I forgot to buy it when I went shopping. You can go and get some when you've cleaned up this mess you're partly responsible for."

Trevor walked past Champ to the coffee machine. "That's okay, I'm easy to satisfy, this is just fine with me." To Champ's utter horror Trevor grabbed the coffee pot from the machine, drinking last night's cold coffee.

"Oh..." Champ said, grimacing, before handing the bag to Trevor. "What happened to you anyway? Did you and Claire drink your brains out or something? You look like you have a hangover."

"Moral ones, if any," Trevor said under his breath. Champ looked at him, not really following.

"Nothing happened, I got her to her house, she fell asleep on the couch, I went home. It just got a little late. What's more important," Trevor said, suddenly remembering something. "How did it go with you and Jaclyn? Did she ignite your torch? A little fire in the fireplace?"

Champ gave Trevor a look that said 'drop dead'. "If I tell you, will you get off my back?"

Trevor nodded eagerly.

"Okay." Champ paused, stretching the moment dramatically. "We talked. She went home. I went back to work."

"You are a bad liar, Champoo, you've got a black spot on your forehead by the size of Neptune's pool."

"Sorry Trevor, that's the plain truth. She's nice, nothing more."

"Your nose is growing..."

"Yeah, it's growing annoyed with you." Champ went over to the rack to retrieve his coat, closely followed by Trevor. "She's not interested in me, Trevor, so don't try to force a bead down on our heads."

"But you are so mistaken, Champ, she was eyeing you. I saw her give you the once-over."

"Yes, she looked once, and then it was over. Now clean up the house for a change."

"Where are you going? Ah, don't tell me. You're meeting her in secret."

Champ opened the front door with a sigh. "I'm meeting my agent, Trevor, I told you yesterday."

Trevor grunted as the door shut in front of him, preventing any further inquiry. He turned in place, pondering what to do. His mind slid to yesterday, to seeing Claire drunk, to taking her home... to kissing her. The memory of that was so vivid to him that he could almost still taste her on his lips. What if it hadn't stopped there? It would have been so easy to go all the way, it wasn't because he didn't want to. She was beautiful, who wouldn't have accepted such an offer? Well, anyone with a little self-respect, Trevor thought to himself.

The phone sat quietly where it usually did on the table, and Trevor looked at it from where he stood by the door, debating whether to give Claire a call, at least to hear how she was doing. But, deciding not to lest he woke her up, he instead went to the bathroom to splash some water into his face. He'd go to the grocery store and get some coffee, at least then he might be able to think more clearly.

***

Jaclyn stood by the shelf of cleaning supplies, trying to decide between the selections of products. It should be an easy choice. One cleaning agent was labeled "improved", another one "new formula", and third one "extra powerful". Jaclyn was sure they were all code words for "good" "better" and "best", she just wasn't sure of the right order.

"Jaclyn! Imagine my surprise in finding you here when the catalogue has you listed under candy."

Turning, Jaclyn smiled at the familiar voice of Trevor, as he seemingly out of nowhere appeared behind her. "Hey Cupid, found anything divine to buy from our corporeal stores?"

"No, they are all out of ambrosia here." Seeing the two bottles of cleansers in her hands, he raised an eyebrow. "Trouble with choosing, huh? Let me tell you a little secret. They're all the same, you're just paying a little extra for the brand name and some vivid coloring on the labels."

She looked at the shelf behind her. "So I should just buy the cheapest one?"

"Yep."

"There's a discount on this one if you buy two bottles."

"Then take them, I'll split with you. Champ wants me to do some cleaning."

Jaclyn put two bottles into her basket, and Trevor threw the bag of coffee he had fetched down on top of them. The he smiled broadly. "Speaking of Champ, how was last night? And I want all the juicy details."

Jaclyn blushed lightly as they proceeded through the store. "Oh, it was very undramatic. We talked a bit, but I really don't think he's interested in me."

"Oh, have a little faith, Jackie! You're not some big girl's blouse. He was totally smitten by you!"

"Well, did he talk about me?"

"He did everything he could to avoid it, and that's a good sign."

"Ah yes."

They reached the counter and Jaclyn paid for the few items in her basket. Trevor buttoned his coat as they went outside in the growing twilight. "All I'm asking," he said, fishing up a few dollars from his pocket in exchange for the bottle of cleanser and the coffee, "is that you give it one more chance. Come down to Taggerty's tonight and test your charm on him."

"Well..." Jaclyn wasn't sure it was a good idea, but her reluctance faded in the light of Trevor's enthusiastic persuasion.

"Drinks are on me," Trevor continued.

"Okay," Jaclyn grinned, "I'll come. If it doesn't work out, I guess I'll always have you to fall back on."

"Absolutely, I'm that kind of guy. Now, I've got to go and... murder some bacteria."

"Have fun, Trevor."

He started to move away from her, but only seconds later she called out to him again, stopping him. He waited for her to catch up with him, already knowing what she was going to ask.

"Was it true, what Linda said about Claire?" Jaclyn looked at Trevor, worry showing in her eyes. Trevor had hoped to avoid thinking about last night, since he hadn't decided what to do about it, but he guessed it was only natural for Jaclyn to ask. After all, she was more to Claire than her assistant.

Slowly they walked down the near-empty street, buildings towering high above them, casting long dark shadows over them.

"Yeah, she really went at it, but I managed to get her home in time before she embarrassed herself."

"That's good. It's just so unlike her. Sure, she has been a little distracted for a while, but if I try to ask her, she acts like she doesn't know what I'm talking about."

"Yeah, trust Claire to keep everything to herself," Trevor agreed. Then, looking away, he added. "The way she stores up things, it's no wonder it boils over inside of her sometimes."

"So... You don't know what's bothering her either?"

Trevor was silent as memories of Claire's slurred words came to him. He remembered her saying something about wanting a normal life, about not understanding, but it hadn't made much sense to him. It had appeared as if she was mad at him, although Trevor couldn't imagine what he had done to provoke such a reaction from her.

"No, I don't. I suppose she's missing what everybody is yearning for from time to time. Closeness, the feeling of being important to someone..."

His voice trailed off, and Jaclyn looked at the man walking next to her, sensing his thoughts. It occurred to her that as Claire's behavior had started to change, so had Trevor's. Right now, as this moment, he should be pulling one pun after another out of his sleeve, cracking her up, making her blush with his usual flirting approach, instead of walking subdued and introvert by her side as he was. Gently, she places a hand on his upper arm, stopping him on the cold sidewalk.

"We all yearn," she said earnestly, "Even fallen gods."

There was the briefest flicker of something in his eyes, but it was gone even before she could register what it was.

"Yeah well, this one just really wants to go home."

"Trevor, you should talk to her. You know her better than anyone."

She waited for a response, but none came. Trevor just stood there, gazing solemnly at an unseen distant spot. If he wanted to be dense and mulish about it, then so be it.

"Okay," she said, and idea forming in her head, "Why don't you come down to Taggerty's tonight? Drinks are on me..."

Recognizing his own words, Trevor smiled back at her.

"Sounds like a plan. I'll definitely see you later, Jaclyn."

With that Trevor turned around and walked away, towards his apartment not many blocks away. Soon she lost sight of him in the blend of people walking hurriedly in and out of cars and stores as they tried to stay outdoors as little as possible. Jaclyn shuddered slightly in the cold air, and she reached for her gloves in her bag. She found it a little odd that Trevor was so determined to pair off her and Champ. He was good-looking, no doubt about that, and nice enough to talk to, but it wasn't like he had swept her off her feet, not like Trevor often threatened to do. She was sure there was nothing there.

Shrugging to herself, she headed the opposite way.

***

The clock in Claire's kitchen ticked softly as time slowly went by. The big hand crept past three pm in the quiet room. A few drops of water gathered at the end of the tap before they at intervals fell, making small dripping sounds as they hit the sink.

Then there was a rustling noise in the next room, a vague sound of someone moving, or trying to, as it were.

In the living room, Claire drowsily dragged herself to a sitting position on the couch. Immediately she gasped at the feeling of a million fireworks exploding in the back of her head, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut.

"Bad idea, bad idea," she murmured, holding her head between her hands. The thundering subsided quickly though, and she managed to peak out between strands of hair falling into her face. Noticing the water on the table, she vaguely remembered drinking some of it earlier, but her mouth was still terribly dry, and she rose slowly from the couch, heading for the kitchen.

Passing the mirror in the hallway, she paused to give herself a disapproving look. Her clothes were all wrinkled from sleeping in them, and her hair was a mess. Disgusted at the sight, she turned her back on the image, walking to the kitchen area.

The door to the fridge was opened, a carton of milk was retrieved, and Claire downed most of it without stopping for air.

"Claire, what have you done to yourself?" Leaning her lower back against the counter to support her tired body, she thought to herself that she had definitely not been this much hung over since college. "Now I know why," she sighed to herself.

She stood there for a moment in the dark kitchen, listening to the clock on the wall mutedly ticking the time away, and then suddenly she felt it, her stomach churning in reaction to the abuse it had suffered the night before. Her eyes snapped open, and she only hesitated a second before running as fast as she could upstairs to her bathroom, just in time to prevent a sad end for her expensive carpeting.

Sometimes later she emerged from the shower, feeling a lot better. She bent to pick up the bundle of clothes she had left on the floor, just outside of the bathroom. The laundry basket was in the utility room, and she went downstairs, turning on lights to fight the early darkness outside as she went through her house. Passing the living room on her way she spotted the blouse she had been wearing the day before and somehow wormed her way out of during the night. As she walked to the couch, reaching out for it, she felt the tip of her bare toes touching something cool and smooth on the floor. Curious, she bent down, still with her arms full of clothes, grasping for whatever it was. As she straightened, she raised her hand to see what she was holding.

It was a simple but beautiful heart cut out of a red sheet of cardboard. Not expecting this, she inadvertently dropped the clothes on the couch, staring at the paper heart in her hand in surprise. Surely this was Trevor's work. Her mind started flashbacking to last night. He had found her at the Jazz Cup, although it was a mystery to her how, and he had seen her home. She wasn't sure when she had passed out, but it could not have been that long, since she hadn't made it into bed. There had been some talking, but she couldn't remember what she had said.

Again, she looked at the red paper heart, smiling. The thought of Trevor cutting it out and placing it on the floor next to the couch warmed her in some way. Putting it in the pocket of her black slacks, she grabbed the pile of clothes and went to throw them in the laundry basket. After all, she had been sleeping most of the day away and she had work to do. She suddenly remembered something, and she quickly found her purse in the hallway. Ripping it open almost frantically, she sighed a breath of relief when seeing that her notebook was in fact still there. For a second she had been afraid that she might have forgotten it, or that Trevor had somehow seen it.

She walked past the mirror hanging on the wall above the small desk in the hallway, and she stopped, staring at her own reflection for a long time. Placing a hand on the wall next to the mirror, she leaned in closely, her gaze wondering. Something made her lift her free hand to her mouth, tracing her lips gently, frowning.

***

In her apartment, Jaclyn was in an unexplainably good mood. There was a sense of anticipation in her gut, and she danced to the sound of the radio playing in the background. She plunged down in her fluffy sofa, and yanking her legs up under her, she reached for her phone. She pressed a speed-dial button, and waited for the phone to be answered.

"Hello?" came a cautious voice, and Jaclyn smiled.

"Claire, it's Jaclyn, I'm glad I caught you."

"Oh, Jaclyn, hi," came Claire's reply, and Jaclyn got a feeling that she had been expecting someone else.

"How are you doing?" she asked, nestling the receiver in the crook between her head and her shoulder, fingering the strings of her write sweatpants. There was an embarrassed laugh and probably a nonchalant shrug at the other end of the phone.

"So you've heard? Well, I'm fine, really. It was nothing... I'm fine, thanks."

"Good," Jaclyn continued, "because I wanted to ask if you would come down to Taggerty's later? Cupi... Trevor's got this idea about Champ and I, and I'm not sure what to think about that..."

"What? Wait, he's trying to set you up with Champ?"

"Yeah, it appears so. It's nice of him and everything, and it's not like I don't trust his seventh sense in this matter, I just think that if you came along, then I could avoid embarrassing moments... Like when Champ and I eventually run out of things to say to each other."

Jaclyn paused, hoping that Claire would take the bait.

"Uh, sure I will, of course, Jaclyn. Uh, when do you want to meet?"

"Let's say nine, is that okay?"

"Sure, nine it is..." Claire replied.

"Great! I'll see you then," Jaclyn said, hanging up quickly before Claire had a chance to change her mind.

"Yes!" Jaclyn knotted her fist, drawing her arm down in a gesture of victory. Then she jumped up and sprinted to the radio, turning up the volume, continuing her merry dance. She felt excited, but whether it was because of what she was trying to do for Trevor, or her fake date with Champ, she couldn't tell. In the end, did it matter so much?

When Champ approached the front door of his apartment, he was met with loud music coming from inside. Shaking his head, he unlocked the door, expecting a party and a matching mess inside. What he did see, though, made him drop his keys in disbelief.

The smell of soap met him as he stood in the doorway. Gaping, he looked at the spotless kitchen, not a single dirty cup on the counter. Then his eyes drifted to the floor, which seemed to be completely cleaned. Even the various papers and magazines that usually lay scattered everywhere were gathered in a neat pile on the dining table. The pillows were arranged nicely on the couch, and as Champ closed the door behind him he spotted Trevor, standing on a chair, dusting off the top of the shelves with a cloth.

"Champ!" Trevor called out, trying to be heard over the music pumping away on the stereo. "You wouldn't believe the things I've found while cleaning up this place! Did you know that a pizza goes through different stages in life? They come in amazing colors and odors, they even come when you whistle at them. Hey, look at this..."

He picked up something from the top of the shelf and threw it down to the floor. It landed in front of Champ, and he stared at an edition of Penthouse.

"That is undoubtedly yours, Trevor," he said, walking to the stereo to turn down the volume. "Sparks, Modesty Blaze? That's definitely not from my CD collection." He turned the cover in his hand before stopping the music altogether.

Trevor wiped his forehead and jumped off the chair. "It belongs to the young man living under us. There's nothing like some pre-punk to psych you up."

Champ looked at Trevor suspiciously.

"You've cleaned up every inch of the place. That is totally out of character and can only mean one out of two things, either you are about to ask me something that I'm likely to disapprove of, or you are keeping yourself busy to avoid something else. Which is it?"

Trevor pretended to be hurt, clutching his chest. "Champ, I'm a good room mate. Isn't that enough for you?"

Champ wasn't buying it. "What's the catch?"

"No catch, I swear." Trevor picked up the bucket of soap water and gave the TV a last wipe with the cloth. "Only... I figured you wanted the place to be spotless in case you brought your date home with you tonight."

"What???" Several furrows began to show on Champ's forehead, and suddenly Trevor felt very inspired to seek cover behind the counter in the kitchen area, and he nearly splashed water out of the bucket in the process of getting there before Champ went off. No outburst of rage came, though, and Trevor peeked curiously up from behind the counter, searching Champ's face for any trace of anger.

"No matter," Champ said indifferently, "You may have your own reasons, but at least the place is now fit for human habitation again." With that he turned and went up the stairs to his part of the flat, leaving a bewildered Trevor behind.

***

Mike, Lawrence, Nick, and a few of the other regulars from Claire's singles group were seated by three joined tables in a corner of Taggerty's, laughing and arguing loudly, the guys making dirty comments on the female guests that came their way, and the girls telling them to shut up and behave. Basically everyone was doing what he or she usually did on a Saturday night out.

Trevor maneuvered through the crowd of people, making his way to their table with several pints of beer in his hands.

"Hey Trevor," Nick said, "You keep underestimating us, we drink a lot faster than you serve the beer."

Trevor put the beer down, wiping his hands in his apron. "That's because you spill half of it on the table and onto yourself. Do you realize what a mess this place always is when you leave?"

Tina and another girl, Madeleine, agreed with him. "That's right Trevor, they turn into Jurassic monsters when they drink."

"Hey, at least we sponsor his paycheck," Lawrence commented. "We practically run this place, right Trev?"

"Right, what are 30 more minutes of cleaning up after work compared to the 5 dollars extra I make." The crowd laughed and Trevor gave Lawrence a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning to make his way to the bar again. The jukebox was playing "Break on Through", and everywhere people were dancing and swinging to the rock song, but Trevor skillfully avoided the pumps and bangs of the moving crowd. He swiftly went behind the bar, putting an arm around Champ's shoulder, oblivious that he was busy pouring beer.

"See that woman there?" Trevor pointed to a nice looking female with short dark hair standing at the other end of the bar, chatting away with a friend. Champ looked up briefly none too interested, before once again turning his attention to the beer taps.

"Married," Trevor simply stated.

Champ handed the beer over the counter with one hand and accepted a credit card with the other. "What?"

"And that woman there? She has a girlfriend. Yeah, who'd believe that?" Trevor grinned, letting his room mate slip out of his clasp as he went to use the card before handing it back to the customer.

"Do you have a point, Trevor, or am I pushing my luck?"

"Point is," Trevor held up his hands as if giving a gift to Champ, "I'm doing you a huge favor."

"You're moving out?"

Trevor ignored the remark as he fetched some tall glasses, mixing drinks by heart as people shouted their orders to him. "The love of your life might be just around the corner, literally speaking, and you just don't see it."

"Sound's familiar..."

"Which is why you need me, the god of love, to pave the way to the castle and the princess. Four bucks." He handed a Lumomba to a man in a dark suite who stared oddly at him.

"Yes, I said god of love. Read your books. Never seen a deity before?"

The man backed away, looking confused. Champ shook his head despondently.

"Way to go, Trevor."

The latter snorted. "He was disrespectful. If I were Zeus, that man would have had a far worse fate."

"If you were Zeus this would have been a really bad manuscript in some TV-show. I sometimes wonder if it's not." Then, looking towards the entrance, Champ said, "Well, it would seem that your party has arrived. Please try to be courteous to them."

Immediately Trevor set the bottle of Tequila he was holding down on the counter, looking where Champ had been looking. Jaclyn's fiery red hair made her very visible in the crowd of people as she came up towards them, coat hanging across her arm. Behind her Claire walked looking none too enthusiastic. He hadn't expected her to show up, and there was something about her appearance that momentarily made Trevor forget why he had set this up in the first place. It might have been memories of her lips on his, her body against him that set his mind on slow motion and left him staring. Or maybe the realization of how utterly beautiful she was to him as she walked next to Jaclyn, her back rank and her features composed, only her bright eyes giving away a shadow of uncertainty as they flickered from one place to another, never holding a gaze long enough for anyone to see what only someone close to her might see. What Trevor saw, or thought he saw.

Claire on her part, felt anything but composed, the smell of beer and smoke bringing back memories of last night's excesses. Seeing Trevor at the bar suddenly made her feel embarrassed, although she knew that was silly of her, and she gritted her teeth, doing her best not to let her discomfort show.

"Hi Jaclyn," Champ greeted the smiling girl.

She glanced at Trevor before grinning up at the man in front of her. "Hi Champ, it just so happened that I was in the neighborhood, and I thought it would be nice to stop by and say hello."

"Well, there's no such thing as getting unexpected company like this," Champ replied with a knowing smile of his own. "I'll be right back." He turned to the other side of the bar to tend the waiting people that had gathered.

While Claire edged herself onto a bar stool, Jaclyn snapped her fingers in front of Trevor, getting his attention. "So where are the drinks you promised me, Trevor?"

"Fair maiden," Trevor began, "thou shalt be in want no more. A beverage I prepared for thee before." He reached up to the shelf above him and retrieved a tall glass with sugar along the rim. The glass was filled with a green liquor that gradually became yellow at the bottom. "Upon my honor I promise it will warm you to your core."

As Jaclyn cautiously sipped the odd drink from a straw, Champ came back, a grin on his face.

"You dare drink that?" he asked.

"It tastes alright. Do you know what it is?"

Champ reached for the book of cocktails that still lay on a shelf under the counter and started to search through drinks that contained green liquor.

Trevor smiled at how well it was going, and he turned towards Claire who sat with her hands folded in front of her on the counter separating them.

"And I see you're up and living. How are you?"

"A little stiff from sleeping in the same position all night, but otherwise I'm fine." She gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Stiff from sleeping, I know all about that. Now, what can I get you for?"

"Just water, please." She reached into her purse, pulling up a few dollars in notes. Trevor filled a large glass with ice cubes before pouring water into it and placing it in front of Claire.

"No thanks," he said, stopping her hand before she could push the money across the counter to him. "The water is on me, although I'm sure it would look better on you."

The tip of his fingers rested lightly against her hand lying on the table. Claire drew her hand to her a little too abruptly, as if she had touched glowing coal. Champ and Jaclyn were out of earshot, discussing the unfamiliar drink with an older man who was describing something vividly, but just in case Claire kept her voice hushed.

"Just when I think I've seen it all, you pull another unbelievable stunt. Jaclyn and Champ? Trevor, what are you thinking?"

Trevor's mouth crept up in a lopsided smile. "Well, basically the same things I'm thinking when I think about you and me, although that has the tendency to get a bit more graphic..."

"Trevor, those are our friends!"

"Oh, so you don't mind me finding the true love for total strangers, as long as I leave my friends to enjoy the life of the lonely? Isn't that a little backwards...?"

Claire felt a speech coming, but she suddenly felt exhausted even before she had said a word. It was probably her body telling her that she still hadn't shaken her hangover completely, in spite of all the coffee she had been drinking the last hours. Shrugging, she looked evenly up at Trevor.

"You know what? I came here for Jaclyn, not to dispute with you. Now go back to bartending while I go and sit down elsewhere."

She rose quickly, taking her water with her, leaving a puzzled Trevor behind.

Jaclyn was quite enjoying her talk with Champ. It was just friendly chatting, nothing deep or personal, but he was easy to talk to, she thought, and definitely attractive. However, she wasn't sure if he felt just as at ease, sensing that he seemed a little distant, but that might be because he was busy serving drinks to the people around him.

She had long ago finished the special drink Trevor had given her. They hadn't yet figured out what it was, but it laid a nice bottom for other drinks, and as Champ returned from the tables on the floor, she pushed the empty glass of drink number two away from her.

"What do you recommend, Champ? I'm all dry again."

Champ smiled and started mixing something for her. "This is my specialty. It might not beat what Trevor served you, but at least all the ingredients can be tracked down and vouched for."

In a quieter corner Claire sat with her notebook in her lap. The point of her pen hung indecisively over the paper as Claire stared at the blank paper pondering what to write. Biting her lip she looked around her at the buzzing activity. She could just make out some of the members of her group sitting at some tables near the small stage. Mike was talking to a woman Claire didn't know, but it looked like he might actually hook up with someone for a change. They seemed intimate with each other, and Claire smiled to herself at that.

Champ was quite enjoying his talk with Jaclyn. He knew there wasn't anything serious going on between them, but he wasn't sure he would be entirely unwilling if it ever came to that. His past experiences with women had taught him to be careful with giving in. In the end it always turned out wrong, his partner expecting too much from him when he himself going protective and withdrawn. In this case it was even more delicate since Jaclyn was a friend, if not as much to him yet, then to Claire and Trevor. Still, Jaclyn appeared much more relaxed than what he would have thought. She seemed to expect exactly nothing.

"Champ... is that your real name?" Jaclyn asked. Having expected the question sooner or later, Champ looked around to make sure no one else listened.

"Of all names, my mother found Albert to be a fitting name for her son. She's the only one who calls me that now."

"So you came up with Champ?"

"Yeah, when I first thought of going into acting I didn't want my real name to be an obstacle. Champ was an appropriate name, so I use that as my stage name."

"Oh yeah..." Jaclyn smiled, remembering something. "I saw one your plays a few weeks ago. One of my friends is dating one of the lighting designers, or what you call them, and she took me there."

Champ raised his eyebrows, suddenly 100 percent attentive to the girl in front of her. "Yeah?"

"Mm-hmm. I really liked it, it was unusual."

Champ handed the towel he was holding to another bartender. "I think I can squeeze in a break here," he said, pouring a beer to himself.

Trevor looked up from where he was standing behind the bar, just in time to see Champ leading Jaclyn to a booth, drinks in hands. How well that was going, he thought to himself, but then, knowing Champ, he knew he shouldn't take his for more than what is was.

The busyness was easing off as people quieted down a bit, settling down or dancing slowly on the floor to the sound of the jukebox. The soft words of the lyrics came to Trevor as he for the second time tonight found himself lost in thought, his eyes straying to where he knew Claire was sitting.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you

I never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you

It took a moment for Trevor to realize that he was looking at her looking at him, until she unsurprisingly averted her eyes, turning her attention to the notebook she carried around with her. He felt odd, not having been able to read the expression on her face, and it unsettled him not knowing what was going on.

I don't wanna fall in love

No I don't wanna fall in love...with you

In their booth, Champ glanced up to the bar, then over at Jaclyn, his face becoming serious again.

"I have to ask you something, Jaclyn. I thought you were all into him."

She calmed herself, having just laughed hard at a joke Champ had made on Trevor.

"Maybe I have been, but I'm not kidding myself, Champ. Nothing will ever happen, he's completely lost in Claire."

"Yeah... do you think anything will ever happen there?"

"With her nature I doubt it. But there's really no telling. With Trevor anything can happen. Who knows what magic trick he will pull out from his hat?"

"I guess..."

They fell silent, both thinking the unrealistic thought.

At her table, Claire watched Champ and her secretary and friend conversing easily. She hadn't thought that Trevor would have been able to pull that one off. She couldn't imagine what the two of them had in common, and she still believed that the basis for any relationship was founded on some sort of common ground. True, they did have Trevor in common, they all did.

She looked at her notebook and the single line that her hand had written down almost unbeknownst to her. It read "Is Trevor in..." The line stared back at her, waiting to be finished. She almost wished it would finish by itself if she willed it to. She didn't know how that thought had come to her, but she needed to write it down. If she couldn't bring herself to ask him, she at least needed to see it, hoping that it might bring some sense into things.

The pen slowly formed the word "love" next to the unfinished sentence. Then she scratched it and repeated it on the next line.

"Is Trevor Hale in love?" She wrote down that line a few times, eventually adding a cautious "with me".

Bring sense to what things? Claire shook her head, closing her notebook with a snap. You must be out of your mind, she scolded herself. She should be used to his playful sexual teasing by now. It wasn't as if he had ever tried anything serious, he was just an insecure child in constant need for confirmation. She was aware of that. She was his therapist.

As if on cue, Trevor dropped into the chair opposite of her, startling her.

"Is this because I didn't address you by the title of a sweet medieval greeting? Because I would have loved to call you "fair maiden", I just didn't find any of the words to be very appropriate."

"You really know how to charm a lady, Trevor."

"And you really know how to discourage a man."

The air was filled with the sound of another ballad, sweet and tender, and anything but suitable for the situation. Claire wished Trevor would stop scrutinizing her like he did, making her feel naked and uneasy.

Rubbing his chin, Trevor leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "Look, if this is about last night..."

"It's not about last night," Claire stopped him, holding up her hand. "It's not about anything. I'm tired, okay?"

Shaking his head, Trevor tried to interrupt as Claire rose from her seat, collecting her things. "I told you I didn't sleep well on my couch, it's late, and..." Claire inclined her head as if noticing something. "I think I just heard Champ call the lock-in, which I as an ethical and law-abiding citizen cannot participate in. I will without doubt see you later, Trevor."

She walked briskly to the door, quickly donning her coat. Behind her Trevor mouthed a confused "what" to himself, before starting after her.

"Claire! Wait up!" Trevor caught up with Claire as she walked towards her car. "Let me at least help you get rid of all that tension you so kindly share with me. I you want I can show you what I do when my body is stiff, no pun intended."

"Thanks but no thanks. Sleep will probably do me a lot better."

Reaching her car, she quickly unlocked her car. She turned to Trevor who still stood at the sidewalk, a little out of breath from the running.

"Look, nothing is wrong, Trevor. It's late and I'm tired, that's all."

"Right, and I'm a mortal..."

He watched as her car sped away down the street, separating them even further by the second. Suddenly Trevor became aware of the cold air penetrating the shirt he was wearing, giving him goose bumps. Rubbing his arms he went back to Taggerty's, a feeling of determination settling somewhere inside of him.

***

The sun was pale as it hovered above the Chicago skyline, barely visible through the cold fog still twisting and twirling aimlessly between buildings. Not a wind moved, not a breeze blew. Frosty air clung to everything, creeping silently into every crack and rip. The only traffic was a few cars and the usual buses. The sidewalks were almost empty, and those who had ventured outside were hurrying to their destinations, little figures hidden in hooded down jackets and scarves.

Most of the day had passed, the daylight fading slowly, and in his apartment, Champ glanced at his watch as he buttered some bread. He retrieved salad, cheese and ham from the very clean fridge, and putting the sandwiches on a plate he walked over to the door to Trevor's room, hesitating only a second before knocking. No reply came, and he opened the door and stepped inside.

On the bed Trevor laid on his stomach in a tangle of sheets, still wearing yesterday's clothes. His room was as messy as always, and Champ searched for the safest path to Trevor's nightstand.

"Don't bother," came a muffled voice. "Step on whatever you want, it's just material things and does in no way contribute to inner happiness."

"Well most of it is my material things," Champ replied, stepping over a pile of clothes. Trevor's string of beads drooped above him like a suspension bridge and he was careful not to touch it, knowing that if anything could make Trevor freak out, that was it.

"I thought you were asleep," Champ said, placing the plate next to Trevor.

"No." There was no sign that Trevor had seen the food, or even that he intended to move from where he was lying with his head to one side, staring blankly at nothing, and an arm dangling off the side of the bed.

"I uh... brought you something to eat."

Trevor dragged himself up on one elbow. "Yuk, sandwiches? Are you trying to keep me alive or something?"

"Look, I was getting worried, you haven't eaten anything."

Trevor scratched his hair vigorously while sitting up on the bed. "Why would you think anything's wrong with me?"

"Is that a trick question?" Champ queried, raising an eyebrow at Trevor's impersonation of the mad scientist.

Grabbing the food, Trevor passed Champ, and walked into the living room. "Don't worry, Champ," Trevor said over his shoulder. "Whatever you stepped on in there will be returned to you threefold once I've returned home. I'm not much of a magician myself, but I'll lay in a good word for you with Zeus."

"Trevor..." Champ watched as Trevor restlessly plodded up and down the floor while munching on one of the sandwiches.

"Maybe I can cut you a good deal," he said between bites. "Say, a lifetime supply of glass for Taggerty's?"

"Trevor...!"

"Or even better, glass that doesn't break. Why haven't anyone thought of that?"

"Trevor Hale!"

"Yeah..."

Crossing his arms, Champ looked seriously at Trevor as he pushed the plate aside on the dinner table, leaving the other sandwich alone.

"Trevor, stop beating around the bush. Something happened that night you took Claire home, now spill it."

It took a moment for Trevor to reply while he finished chewing, and when he did speak it was in a muted voice completely devoid of smugness.

"Claire kissed me, that's what happened. And yes, admittedly, I kissed her back"

Champ had not expected this, but he hid his surprise well. "That certainly explains the awkward atmosphere..." He leaned against the supporting beam next to the counter, waiting for Trevor to continue.

Trevor gave a small laugh. "It was... it was weird. No romance, pure lust and brutish desire. And I totally loved it..."

"You wanted... to do it?"

"Of course I wanted to," Trevor exclaimed, "I haven't had sex in Zeus knows how long!"

"Hmm, that sounds very human to me," Champ said, although he suspected Trevor's reasons were something else. "What about your whole no sex with mortals rule?"

Trevor stood, obviously searching for the right words. "For some reason it didn't feel wrong. It was like it was supposed to happen. The circumstances were bad, of course, but... it felt right with her... I dunno anymore."

Walking to the couch, he sat down heavily, letting out an audible sigh. The distress Trevor was in was clear to Champ, and although he felt sorry for Trevor, he had suspected the issue to surface sooner or later.

"Talk to her," Champ advised.

"I can't, she won't see me," Trevor said regretfully.

"Did she say that?"

"Look, I tried to talk to her yesterday. I don't even know if she remembers the kissing. She was just hostile and evasive. I don't know what to think anymore, I'm so confused."

Trevor slit his hands through his hair, rubbing his temples.

"I think I know that feeling," Champ began, moving closer. "Ecstatic joy when around a person, sadness and emptiness when you're not, panic when something goes wrong... Love does that to you."

Trevor cast a sidelong glance up at Champ. "You think I'm in love?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe, Trevor. I think you know that better than I do."

Trevor replied in a small voice, "No, no I don't. Claire's right, how can I tell anything? I don't even know what being in love is."

Not knowing how to answer, Champ went to the kitchen area, pouring boiled water into a cup. Then he rummaged around until he found what he was looking for in a small brown bag with an attached patch of white fabric with the printed letters "Indonesian Leaves" on it. This would make the most soothing tea he knew of, and Trevor seemed like he needed to calm down a bit.

Inside of Trevor something was trying to make its way from his heart to his brain, something painful and yet mortally necessary for him to consider. Different emotions were sending a jumble of confused signals through his nervous system, cluttering his mind, and he found himself completely unable to make sense of them. Deep down he knew that there was something he had to acknowledge before he could even hope to bring some order to the chaos inside of him, but he forced it aside, instead focussing on another and less dangerous subject. Something had Claire worked up the way she was, and he didn't know what it was. As Trevor sat with his head in his hands his mind zoomed in on that single problem; what was bothering Claire so much? He had to know before anything else, he felt it was his only chance of sorting through things as they were.

Next to him Champ put a cup on the table, and Trevor looked down at a light brown fluid, the steam from the exotic tea filling the air around him.

"It's good for you," Champ urged.

All Trevor wanted was to think, and he couldn't concentrate in all the noise Champ was making. He rose abruptly without a word, heading for the sanctuary of his room.

"Come on," Champ called out. "Don't lock yourself up in there. Are you just going to give up?"

Trevor turned with a hand on the door. "Don't worry, I'm Cupid, remember? Love shall overcome."

It didn't come out very convincingly, and he closed his eyes briefly before giving Champ a sad but firm look. "I just need to think. Alone, okay?"

"Okay... Just talk to her alright?"

"Yeah yeah."

"Yeah, you should. I'll make you dinner. Love needs food too."

Trevor nodded before returning to his room, pulling the door shut behind him.

***

He didn't know how he knew, or why, but as the elevator doors swung open with a soft chime and the hallway to Claire's office lay stretched before him, he knew he had been right in coming here. Maybe it was one of Claire's quirks, spending a Sunday night at her office, doing some last minute preparation for next week's sessions. Whatever it was, Trevor just felt that this would be where she was, and as he approached Jaclyn's empty desk he saw that the door to Claire's office was ajar, soft light coming from inside.

Claire didn't know why either, but as she sat by her desk, staring blankly at her computer screen, she suddenly felt rather than heard the presence of someone outside her office in the hallway, and she instantly knew that it was Trevor. There was just nowhere she could seek sanctuary from him. Had she stayed at home he would surely had come there.

She shut down the file she was working on, instead collecting some dossiers that had been lying on her desk for later examination. She opened the bottom drawer, meaning to stow them away there, but knowing that she would forget about them altogether she put them back on the table. Annoyed with herself she shut the drawer with a thud before opening the top drawer instead. Inside she had a collection of office supplies and personal items lying in an almost hysteric symmetrical order. She picked up a pale lipstick, carefully removing the transparent cap before gently touching her lips with it.

There was a rapid knocking at her office door as Trevor poked his head inside.

"Claire-bear, did you know that most lipstick contains fish scales?"

A slight raise of one eyebrow was the only sign that Claire had noticed Trevor's presence, or even heard what he said. She finished with the moisturizing lipstick, putting it back in her drawer carefully while Trevor moved about, looking around him as if trying to memorize the interior of the office he had seen so many times.

"Just for a jiffy I thought I might experience the luxury of an evening without you, Trevor, but now I see that it was all make-believe." Claire sat back in her chair, trying to create an air of repose, but not succeeding much.

"A 'jiffy' is an actual unit of time for 1/100th of a second..."

"What are you, a dictionary?" Claire sneered.

"No, I'm Cupid, he said, hoping for a little appreciation."

"I'd appreciate it if you told me what you are doing here."

"Actually I came to ask you the same," Trevor replied.

Claire crossed her arms, looking at Trevor as he stood in the middle of the room looking at her expectantly.

"It's my office..." she began.

"I mean, if you wanted to experience the luxury of an evening without me, as you so nicely put it, why did you come to Taggerty's last night?"

"I told you, I came there for Jaclyn, she asked me."

Trevor nodded. "Yeah, wow, you almost convinced yourself there. She and Champ are grown people who can take care of themselves, you know that as well as I do."

Claire leaned forward in her chair at that, gripping the armrests on both sides. "Well, I'm not the one trying to match them up, am I?"

Seeing where this was going, Trevor looked down for a moment before returning his gaze to the woman sitting six feet from him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't come here to argue with you. I just wanted to ask you what it is that has bothered you so much lately. Is there something wrong? Terminal illness, a family fight? If there's anything I can..."

"No! No, Trevor, don't do anything." Claire sighed. "There is nothing wrong, nothing, nada, zip. Stop insisting on that."

"Oh come on," Trevor pushed, genuine concern showing on his face. "The other night you really tried to drown some sorrows. I had to drag you away from a public embarrassment, Claire, I think it's very clear that Victoria is not the only one with a secret..."

"I wasn't drowning anything, okay?"

"It was a local bar, Claire. Geez, what were you thinking? You have a reputation to maintain. People know your face from the paper, someone might have recognized you."

"Ha! What reputation?" Claire felt a crack in her protective wall, as too many truths hit her simultaneously, and she was unable to repair the damage. "My reputation is already in shambles thanks to you! Yes, you, Trevor!"

Trevor was taken aback, not understanding where this was coming from, and even if he had known what to answer, he wasn't sure he could have stopped Claire's torrent of speech.

"Yes, I was upset the other night when I was drunk," Claire continued, rising from her chair as to emphasize her words. "I am upset that life seems to be working against me, and you're certainly not helping. I can't even maintain a relationship, let alone go on a normal date because of you, you!"

Trevor narrowed his eyes as he cut in, "Would... would you mind taking this from the beginning?"

"Gladly!" Claire retorted. "You set me up in the first place with Alex, why did you?"

"I was trying to prove a point..."

"And a bad one it was!" Claire roared.

Trevor held out a hand defensively. "Hey, I don't think it's fair of you to take your insecurity out on me... I didn't make Alex the Great go to New York."

"It hurt, don't you see? You introduced me to him as a part of your little personal agenda. You don't realize that you bring pain into people's lives, do you?"

"Of course it hurts," Trevor shot back, "when you keep resisting all that is in your nature!"

"Don't even talk to me about nature," Claire said, really upset now. "You who are so obviously in complete denial about yourself and your past." She pointed a finger at him angrily.

"And here's another thing that I'm sure you never think about: Do you have any idea what I have to listen to every day from my colleagues and from my superiors? I have to justify my relationship with you constantly as I'm faced again and again with the allegations that my relationship with you is unprofessional. You keep showing up here at all possible times, running after me like a puppy, and I'm the one who has to explain your behavior and my lack of progress with you..."

"I've never asked you to defend me," Trevor replied indignantly. "I can speak for myself."

"Well I have been defending you, for professional reasons. And I'm losing the battle, Trevor, my credibility is slipping while you run around in your fantasy world."

Trevor almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. "Is this supposed to be therapeutic for me? 'Cause it isn't helping much."

"Then maybe I shouldn't... be..." Claire's voice trailed off, shocked at the realization of what she was about to say. She bit her lower lip, wishing bitterly that she could undo the whole conversation, but at the same time knowing that the inevitable was happening. So she said nothing as she stood face to face with Trevor, the only barrier between them the invisible wall of unspoken words.

A flood of emotions were showing on Trevor's face as he looked at her with bright eyes, pleading her silently to take her words back. Not to do this. He watched as she resolutely reached into the pocket of her pants and then extended her arm towards Trevor. His paper heart was in her hand, slightly creased.

"You can't give that back," Trevor said, choking on emotions.

"Yes I can," Claire replied calmly. "Because I never asked for it."

He felt outside of his body, watching from far away as Claire took a step forward, placing the heart in his numb hand. He wanted so much to scream something, to find a clever retort, but no words came to him. All he could do was stare at the woman who was taking a step back from him. She was so close and yet so far away, so unattainable to him.

His fists clenched and his eyes went dark. "It's just a paper heart," he said, a resigned look on his face.

Claire looked away from him, her mouth set as she was unable to meet his gaze.

Silence was all that was left, and Trevor fatefully turned away from Claire, leaving just as quickly as he had come. Alone in her quiet office, Claire brought her arms out to the sides, her hands impacting with the floor as she fell limp to her knees. Her body was drained of energy, and she could barely hold back as her stomach contracted, pressing a silent sob out of her, and then another.

Outside the night's sky was cloudless and the air was fiercely cold as a lonely figure moved across an empty street. His footsteps were hard against the stone, and the sound echoed vaguely from wall to wall as he walked down the narrow alley lying in between.

Trevor hissed as he breathed through gritted teeth, his mind racing, and his body desperately trying to keep up with his rampaging pulse. He reached the end of the alley, stepping out onto an empty parking lot. At the other side of the open space was a barren embankment and on it a rusty fence, screening off the railway for freight traffic.

The place was deserted, and Trevor rushed along the parking lot and down the asphalt road full of holes, blindly searching for anything that could give him comfort. Spotting something sitting in the shadows by the backside of the old warehouse he was passing, he walked to it, holding the crumbled paper heart at an arm's length as if it were poisonous. He reached the metal trashcans, and ripping off one of the lids he threw the small paper ball into it. The lid landed on top of the trashcan with a loud noise before slipping off to the side and landing on the ground with a crash.

Trevor's breath was ragged with despair as he kicked the trashcan until it fell backwards into the other cans, the sound ripping through the silence. It wasn't until he suddenly inhaled violently that he realized he had been screaming. Spinning around angrily, he turned his back on the wall and the trash scattered around at his feet. As he turned his pained face upwards, he shouted on top of his lungs, "So I'm in love with her, what do you want from me!!!"

No answer came to him as the starry sky hung above him, still and inscrutable. The only sound was the distant whistle of a train. Trevor's voice still ringed in his ears as he reached up and wiped his hand over his face, feeling something there. In mild wonder he looked at his hand, wet from the tears that had streamed down his cheeks, unnoticed.

He sighed, a thin white stream of air against the cold. She could not have been serious. Would she really put his fate in someone else's hands? Trevor had not forgotten what Claire had told him regarding Ian Frechette's methods of treatment, and he shuddered at the thought of being at the mercy of that doctor. Claire wouldn't let the hospital assign Frechette to him... would she? Trevor found that he was no longer sure. Had he been so fatally wrong about her?

He let the tears fall freely, as he moved along empty alleys and dark park areas, avoiding all the bigger streets and too open places where he might meet people.

He had not been sure where he was going, but instincts had brought him home, and he walked the stairs to the apartment, leaving the lights turned off in the hallway.

There was a noise as the front door was opened, then closed again. Heavy steps could be heard, then the door to Trevor's room was opened, and a hand touched the side of the wall, switching on the light.

Trevor stood in the doorway to his room, his coat hanging loosely from his hand before it dropped to the floor. Trevor's gaze was fixated on something in front of him, beyond his string of beads. His eyes were wide open, at first not believing, but then slowly they started to sparkle, narrowing as a smile of relief and recognition started to show on his face. He stood there, smiling, blinking away the last tears.

The phone rang in Claire's empty house, a shrill sound against the quiet of the night. It rang twice, then Claire's voice sounded on the answering machine.

"Hi, this is Claire, please leave a message and I'll call you back."

The machine beeped.

"Claire, it's me. I love your voice on this machine, it gives a new meaning to phone sex. Haha."

A pause.

"Actually I called to tell you that as of tonight there will be no more Trevor Hale, because I'm going home, Claire, finally home and back to my peers. Yeah, your professional failure is out of here, you must be greatly relieved."

Another pause and the almost inaudible sound of breathing on the phone.

"Nice knowing you. Bye."

The machine clicked and whirred as it rewinded, getting ready for the next call to be recorded. A little red lamp flashed in the darkness, the only sign of life in the house. It might have been an important message, but no one was there to hear it.

The gangway to Claire's house was empty, and on the street only a few cars went by the house, not knowing and not caring about the call that had been made.

The city of Chicago was lulled to sleep by the soft moonlight and the twinkling stars...

***

continued in part two