“Your friend is a real piece of work you know that?”

Her eyes widened at the outburst from the busty blonde that passed, but before she could respond to the statement, the moment was gone, the girl stalked past in a huff.  Glancing at the direction she’d come from, understanding dawned through her vantage point. 

Of course…

He was standing where she’d left him, but now drenched in what she could only assume was that busty blonde’s drink.  Sighing loudly, her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she inhaled, and moved towards the man in question. 

“Let me guess?” she stated, not questioned, when she approached him. “You used the stupid pick-up line again didn’t you?”

His face immediately scrunched up into his infamous scowl.  “I don’t need your shit right now,” he grumbled, grabbing a couple of napkins and trying to wipe the alcohol from his shirt, but of course only making it worse.  “Fuck.”

Rolling her eyes at his tantrum, she kindly asked the bartender for some club soda.  And as soon as it was in her hand, took the napkin bunch from her sullen companion. Replacing it with her own, she dabbed in the glass and fussed with the spots on his shirt.

“Go ahead and say it,” he offered as a conversation injection, watching as she continued to press on his shirt, without saying a word.   “Come on already and get it over with.” 

Biting her lip to stifle back the laughter at the indignant tone in his voice, she lifted her gaze up, “Say what?” she asked in an attempt to feign innocent misunderstanding, though they both knew what he was referring to. 

He heaved an exasperated breath at her, “Just say it already.  You know you want to say it.”

He was right, she did.  Then again, he did know her better than most.  So she indulged him. Clearing her throat, she smoothed down the damp material across his chest, patted lightly, and then grinned.   “She obviously didn’t get off on who you were.”

“Uh-huh…” he prompted, waving his hand at her.  “And…”

“I told you so,” they both said at the same time.

Throwing the soiled napkins on the counter, finished at her attempts at salvaging his shirt, she giggled.  “Well, I did.”

He shook his head at her, before letting out that all to familiar smile in her direction.  “Yeah,” he agreed.   “You did.” 

“But her loss, right?” she soothed, throwing her arms around his neck to give him a squeeze, mindful of the wet spot on his chest.

He hugged her closer, and purposely pressed her into that wet spot.  Smirking when she cringed at the action.  “Your gain.”

She shoved him back playfully, before flagging down the bartender to order them drinks, all the while keeping her eyes connected with his.  “Well then,” she commented lightly, stepping back and leaning against the counter.  “Lucky me.” 

It was nonchalant. 

It was flirty. 

Moreover, it was normalcy for them.

Definitely must have worked out the kinks in their so-called relationship, right?  Wrong.
To everyone around them, it seemed as things had settled back into what it had always been.  But the fact of the matter was they were still both walking that thin line, teetering off here and there, on edge, waiting.  Waiting for one of them to fall off and start the whole damn thing over again.
 

Part Nine: Drunken Haze
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