Taylor awoke, confused. She was in a bed she didn’t recognise, again, and she couldn’t remember how she got there until she rolled over and spotted Lindsay nursing her head at the dresser. “What time is it?” Taylor asked her.
“Nearly noon,” Lindsay managed.
Taylor lay back, before bolting upright, swearing loudly as she leapt out of bed.
“Please, no sudden or loud movements,” Lindsay winced.
“I’m late!” Taylor yelled, slightly pleased to find she was still fully dressed.
“Late for what?”
“I had a meeting with my editor an hour ago,” she explained as she dashed around trying to find her cell phone. She located it on the coffee table, behind five and a half empty bottles, and disregarding the several missed calls from Flack and Danny, called Alex. When she had rescheduled the meeting for later that afternoon, she slumped on the couch and stared at the empty wine bottles. “Lindsay, did we really drink this much?”
Lindsay appeared in the doorway. “Yeah, and I hate the fact you’re not suffering for it.”
Taylor smiled at her. “I can’t remember what we watched, if that makes you feel better. We should do this again, without so much wine, because I think I enjoyed myself.”
“I should get a shower. I have to get to work,” Lindsay told her instead of answering. “You want to borrow a towel?”
Taylor shook her head, “I’ll grab the tube and pick up my car later. I’m pretty certain I’m not legally allowed to be driving at the moment.”
The underground wasn’t far from Lindsay’s apartment, and only required one change, so Taylor was home sooner than she thought, only to be greeted by Marty.
“Hello stranger.”
“Hi, Marty.”
“How was the trip back from Flack’s sister’s?” he asked her.
Taylor poured herself a glass of water and joined him on the couch, where he muted the basketball game he had been watching. “Well, it turns out that there are such things as demons, and I met a mermaid.”
Marty stared blankly at her, “Come again?” Taylor grinned at him before settling back and explaining the whole story. “Demon hunters?” Marty repeated.
Taylor nodded. “Strangely, yes. But I get the feeling there’s more out there. Dean mentioned werewolves,” she shuddered. “If I ever have to meet one of those…”
“I hope not either,” Marty frowned, “So I have something to tell you. I have a job in St. Louis.”
“I know,” Taylor told him. “I bumped into Louie.”
Marty rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Sorry; I was hoping to tell you first.”
“What are you apologising for?” she asked him. “I think congratulations are in order! When are you back out there? We should go and celebrate.”
“Actually, I fly back out tomorrow afternoon. I came back because there was a shift I couldn’t get out of tonight,” he told her.
“You’re not leaving me for good, are you?” Taylor asked.
“Sadly, you cannot get rid of me that easily. It’s only until Christmas. Nine months. And I don’t expect to come home to a child.”
Taylor gave Marty a shove. “We’ve been dating three months. I’m not having children just yet.”
“Uh huh, and where were you last night?” he asked her, an eyebrow arched.
“Nice try, but keep to being the ME and not the CSI. I stayed at Lindsay’s,” Taylor informed him as she rolled her eyes. She glanced at her watch and frowned. “Look, I’ve got to go in and see Alex-”
“Yeah, I’ve seen your face all over the city,” Marty smirked. “Do you think they’d give me a life size poster if I asked?”
Taylor glared at him. “Why the hell would you want one of them?”
Marty shrugged. “Got used to seeing your mug. It will be weird without it in Missouri.”
“You’re a doofas,” Taylor informed him.
“So you keep telling me, Taylor. But you love me really.”
Taylor smiled at him, giving him a hug. “If I don’t see you later, have a good flight, and make sure you give me a text so I don’t think your plane has crashed and you’ve burned alive somewhere over the Lakes.”
“I really think you need to reassess who the doofas is in this conversation,” Marty retorted.
Taylor rolled her eyes at him and headed for the shower.
“Nearly noon,” Lindsay managed.
Taylor lay back, before bolting upright, swearing loudly as she leapt out of bed.
“Please, no sudden or loud movements,” Lindsay winced.
“I’m late!” Taylor yelled, slightly pleased to find she was still fully dressed.
“Late for what?”
“I had a meeting with my editor an hour ago,” she explained as she dashed around trying to find her cell phone. She located it on the coffee table, behind five and a half empty bottles, and disregarding the several missed calls from Flack and Danny, called Alex. When she had rescheduled the meeting for later that afternoon, she slumped on the couch and stared at the empty wine bottles. “Lindsay, did we really drink this much?”
Lindsay appeared in the doorway. “Yeah, and I hate the fact you’re not suffering for it.”
Taylor smiled at her. “I can’t remember what we watched, if that makes you feel better. We should do this again, without so much wine, because I think I enjoyed myself.”
“I should get a shower. I have to get to work,” Lindsay told her instead of answering. “You want to borrow a towel?”
Taylor shook her head, “I’ll grab the tube and pick up my car later. I’m pretty certain I’m not legally allowed to be driving at the moment.”
The underground wasn’t far from Lindsay’s apartment, and only required one change, so Taylor was home sooner than she thought, only to be greeted by Marty.
“Hello stranger.”
“Hi, Marty.”
“How was the trip back from Flack’s sister’s?” he asked her.
Taylor poured herself a glass of water and joined him on the couch, where he muted the basketball game he had been watching. “Well, it turns out that there are such things as demons, and I met a mermaid.”
Marty stared blankly at her, “Come again?” Taylor grinned at him before settling back and explaining the whole story. “Demon hunters?” Marty repeated.
Taylor nodded. “Strangely, yes. But I get the feeling there’s more out there. Dean mentioned werewolves,” she shuddered. “If I ever have to meet one of those…”
“I hope not either,” Marty frowned, “So I have something to tell you. I have a job in St. Louis.”
“I know,” Taylor told him. “I bumped into Louie.”
Marty rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Sorry; I was hoping to tell you first.”
“What are you apologising for?” she asked him. “I think congratulations are in order! When are you back out there? We should go and celebrate.”
“Actually, I fly back out tomorrow afternoon. I came back because there was a shift I couldn’t get out of tonight,” he told her.
“You’re not leaving me for good, are you?” Taylor asked.
“Sadly, you cannot get rid of me that easily. It’s only until Christmas. Nine months. And I don’t expect to come home to a child.”
Taylor gave Marty a shove. “We’ve been dating three months. I’m not having children just yet.”
“Uh huh, and where were you last night?” he asked her, an eyebrow arched.
“Nice try, but keep to being the ME and not the CSI. I stayed at Lindsay’s,” Taylor informed him as she rolled her eyes. She glanced at her watch and frowned. “Look, I’ve got to go in and see Alex-”
“Yeah, I’ve seen your face all over the city,” Marty smirked. “Do you think they’d give me a life size poster if I asked?”
Taylor glared at him. “Why the hell would you want one of them?”
Marty shrugged. “Got used to seeing your mug. It will be weird without it in Missouri.”
“You’re a doofas,” Taylor informed him.
“So you keep telling me, Taylor. But you love me really.”
Taylor smiled at him, giving him a hug. “If I don’t see you later, have a good flight, and make sure you give me a text so I don’t think your plane has crashed and you’ve burned alive somewhere over the Lakes.”
“I really think you need to reassess who the doofas is in this conversation,” Marty retorted.
Taylor rolled her eyes at him and headed for the shower.
* * *
By the time Taylor had made it to Alex’s office she was feeling much more awake. The shower and the walk to the building had done her good. It was also apparent, she realised as she made her way upstairs, that she no longer had butterflies in her stomach, although the constant smell of new paint was a grim reminder of what had happened there.
“I think I know why you’re here,” said Alex, breaking her thoughts. “The publicity.”
“It had better be working, Alex, because I don’t like it. I’m pretty certain I didn’t agree to that,” she complained.
Alex nodded. “Sales are up four percent this week alone.”
“Four percent? Is it not time for a pay rise?” Taylor grinned.
Alex stared at her, eyebrows raised. “Taylor, you’ve just had a pay rise. And a vacation.” He leant forward. “And I think that you need to learn how to get your work in a little earlier before any more money is sent your way.”
“It’s never been late,” Taylor told him.
“No,” Alex agreed. “But it’s never been more than twenty minutes early.”
“I’ll make a deal with you then,” Taylor offered, “I’ll get my work in earlier if you remove the posters that are all over the city.”
“Who is in charge here?” Alex asked her, amusement lining his voice.
“Come on, Alex,” Taylor whined. “You know I don’t like seeing myself all over the city.”
“They’re good pictures, Taylor. Sasha did a good job with this campaign. And they’re not coming down. It cost me a fortune to get the four of you in Time Square.” He smiled at her. “I take it you haven’t been into your office of late?”
“Why?”
“You mean other than for your fan mail?”
Taylor eyed him suspiciously before leaving his office and heading for her own. Part way there, she spotted a certain Indian girl who was trying to back into an elevator. “Sasha Nehru! You get that scrawny, sari-clad ass back here right now!”
Sasha cringed before quickly breaking into a bright smile, “Taylor! Did you have a good vacation?”
“Oh, it wasn’t bad, thanks,” Taylor smiled sweetly at her. “Though I had a bit of a surprise when I got back.”
“A good surprise?” Sasha asked hopefully.
Taylor scratched her head, “I don’t know. I mean, how would you feel about an eighty foot image of yourself suspended in Time Square?”
“That was my dream when I left high school,” Sasha sighed sadly.
Taylor frowned. She had been all ready to bite the girl’s head off. And that was the only thing that she could have said to stop her. She shifted uncomfortably.
“I’m sorry,” Sasha apologised. “But Alex wanted to do something which would have a big impact. At least I talked him out of the commercials.”
Taylor’s eyes virtually popped out of her head. “Hell will freeze over before I do a commercial.”
Sasha frowned. “Alex said that you were all set for CNN.”
“I said it because I knew it would never happen!”
“I’m sorry,” Sasha replied. “I know how much you like Sex and the City.”
“Like it,” Taylor agreed. “Didn’t want to be in it. I mean, the side of a bus? You are so lucky that you didn’t have to peel me off of one - because I nearly threw myself in front of one the other morning.”
“I really am sorry, Tay.”
Taylor nodded. “I know. Just promise me you’ll consult me in the future.”
“I will,” Sasha promised. “Anyway, I have things to do. Hey, what’s your take on vodka?”
Taylor arched an eyebrow. “It’s not Southern Comfort. But it tastes good with orange juice. Why?”
“Because I may find a way to make it up to you.”
“What, by getting me drunk?” Sasha just smiled at her before walking away. “Sasha, am I going to like this?” she called after her.
After getting no response, Taylor muttered under her breath, heading for her office. In the middle of her much unused desk was a large cardboard box. She pulled a letter out from it and ripped it open – it was a sweet letter from a little girl telling her how she wanted to be a writer just like her when she grew up. With a small smile, she settled into her chair and pulled out another. This one, however, contained a rather skimpy pair of underwear and a somewhat lewd love note.
She threw it to the side as her phone went off – a text from Danny begging her to come out for drinks that evening. She shrugged to herself and replied with a yes.
Hours later, Taylor packed the letters back into the box with a small smile – most had been quite nice – and decided it was time to meet Danny.
Ten minutes later, Taylor was slipping into a booth opposite Danny. “I see you started already,” she greeted him, motioning towards the several empty bottles of beer.
“Couldn’t wait,” he shrugged.
Taylor sighed. “You going to tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to play psychic?”
“There’s nothing wrong,” he told her, indicating to the waitress that he wanted another beer. “I just fancied a night out, Hawkes was working, and Flack is at some basketball game.”
“What about Louie? Or Lindsay?”
“Louie is at school and he has to work tomorrow,” he grinned. “What’s the problem, Drew? Don’t you trust yourself with me?”
Taylor burst out laughing. “Whatever, Messer.”
Danny clutched at his heart. “You hurt me, Drew.”
“Seriously, Danny. Quit with the Drew or you will be hurting.”
“You know you love it,” he grinned. “Hang on, I’ll be back.” He disappeared to the bar, and returned a short while later, clutching a napkin, a bottle of tequila and some shot glasses.
“You want us to get banned from another bar?” Taylor asked, her eyes widening at the bottle. “Dare I even ask?”
“Nope, just drink up,” he told her, thrusting a dangerously full shot of tequila in her face.
“Danny, this is going straight to my head,” Taylor complained a few shots later. “I’ve had nothing to eat all day.”
“Good,” responded Danny, slurring slightly.
“And I can see that it’s already gotten to you. Exactly how much did you have before I got here?”
Danny pinched his fingers together. “This much,” he showed her before falling about in fits of giggles.
“Right, now you’re starting to scare me,” Taylor muttered.
Danny’s response was to reach for the tequila bottle and pour another shot for her. “Drink and then I won’t be.” With a shrug, Taylor took it off him and drank.
What seemed like an hour later, although was actually several, due to the large quantities of alcohol both had consumed, Taylor and Danny were completely and utterly drunk. “Two nights in a row,” Taylor giggled. “I haven’t drunk this much since college and Maddy dragged me out constantly.”
“You miss her?”
“Yes and no,” Taylor told him, “I still see her, but it’s not the same.”
“You still see her?” Danny asked, his eyes widening in surprise.
Taylor smacked him upside the head… or at least, tried, missed, and slumped into him. “Doofas! She comes to see me as a ghost.”
“Oh yeah,” he nodded.
“So,” said Taylor, quickly changing the subject. “Now that I have you suitably drunk-”
“Who are you calling drunk, Drew?”
“Looked in a mirror recently?” Taylor sniggered.
“Yeah, and I like what I see,” Danny told her, running a hand through his hair. “And it looks like she does over there. Hang on, I’ll be back.”
Before Taylor could process the sentence, Danny was up and walking to a red head at the bar. Taylor’s mouth dropped open. She had suspected with the flirting earlier that Lindsay and Danny had had an argument, but this was more than an argument. She was up in a shot, joining the conversation.
“Hey, Drew,” Danny bellowed, wrapping his arm around her neck, “I want you to meet my very good friend, Nina.”
“It’s Naomi,” the red head frowned.
“Nancy, like I said.” Danny’s eyes lit up. “Hey, Drew, she has the same first name as you!”
“You must excuse my friend here,” Taylor apologized, dragging Danny back to the table. “You want me to tell you what was wrong with that whole scenario, or do you want to tell me what happened with Lindsay?”
“Nothing happened,” Danny protested, getting defensive.
“Hey,” said Taylor, holding up her hands. “Don’t start with me, Danny.”
Danny slumped back in the chair. “You know about me and Lindsay?”
“Danny, I’ve known about you and Lindsay since before you bought her that wedding ring.”
Danny frowned. “How do you know about this?” he asked, pulling out his wallet, and the ring.
Taylor cracked up laughing, “I went with you to buy it.”
Danny poured another shot. “You’re not drunk enough.”
“I think you’re drunk enough for both of us,” Taylor protested before the liquid was practically poured down her throat. “Enough,” Taylor managed through the spluttering.
“She split up with me,” Danny finally cracked.
“What did you do?” Taylor asked wearily.
“Me?” Danny cried, “I didn’t do anything? I turned up at Rikers the other night to pick Lindsay up and she finished it.”
Taylor sighed. “Have you tried talking to her?”
“She won’t.”
“Have you tried talking to her when you haven’t just been flirting with a lab tech in front of her?”
Danny scowled. “No.”
“So call her, and ask her to meet you for dinner.” Danny dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out his Razr. “Not now, Danny! It’s,” she glanced at her watch. “Hell, it’s 1am! She’s not going to appreciate that. Call her in the morning.”
Danny looked at his own watch and nodded. “Well, we still have some tequila to drink,” he told her, pouring another shot.
“I think I know why you’re here,” said Alex, breaking her thoughts. “The publicity.”
“It had better be working, Alex, because I don’t like it. I’m pretty certain I didn’t agree to that,” she complained.
Alex nodded. “Sales are up four percent this week alone.”
“Four percent? Is it not time for a pay rise?” Taylor grinned.
Alex stared at her, eyebrows raised. “Taylor, you’ve just had a pay rise. And a vacation.” He leant forward. “And I think that you need to learn how to get your work in a little earlier before any more money is sent your way.”
“It’s never been late,” Taylor told him.
“No,” Alex agreed. “But it’s never been more than twenty minutes early.”
“I’ll make a deal with you then,” Taylor offered, “I’ll get my work in earlier if you remove the posters that are all over the city.”
“Who is in charge here?” Alex asked her, amusement lining his voice.
“Come on, Alex,” Taylor whined. “You know I don’t like seeing myself all over the city.”
“They’re good pictures, Taylor. Sasha did a good job with this campaign. And they’re not coming down. It cost me a fortune to get the four of you in Time Square.” He smiled at her. “I take it you haven’t been into your office of late?”
“Why?”
“You mean other than for your fan mail?”
Taylor eyed him suspiciously before leaving his office and heading for her own. Part way there, she spotted a certain Indian girl who was trying to back into an elevator. “Sasha Nehru! You get that scrawny, sari-clad ass back here right now!”
Sasha cringed before quickly breaking into a bright smile, “Taylor! Did you have a good vacation?”
“Oh, it wasn’t bad, thanks,” Taylor smiled sweetly at her. “Though I had a bit of a surprise when I got back.”
“A good surprise?” Sasha asked hopefully.
Taylor scratched her head, “I don’t know. I mean, how would you feel about an eighty foot image of yourself suspended in Time Square?”
“That was my dream when I left high school,” Sasha sighed sadly.
Taylor frowned. She had been all ready to bite the girl’s head off. And that was the only thing that she could have said to stop her. She shifted uncomfortably.
“I’m sorry,” Sasha apologised. “But Alex wanted to do something which would have a big impact. At least I talked him out of the commercials.”
Taylor’s eyes virtually popped out of her head. “Hell will freeze over before I do a commercial.”
Sasha frowned. “Alex said that you were all set for CNN.”
“I said it because I knew it would never happen!”
“I’m sorry,” Sasha replied. “I know how much you like Sex and the City.”
“Like it,” Taylor agreed. “Didn’t want to be in it. I mean, the side of a bus? You are so lucky that you didn’t have to peel me off of one - because I nearly threw myself in front of one the other morning.”
“I really am sorry, Tay.”
Taylor nodded. “I know. Just promise me you’ll consult me in the future.”
“I will,” Sasha promised. “Anyway, I have things to do. Hey, what’s your take on vodka?”
Taylor arched an eyebrow. “It’s not Southern Comfort. But it tastes good with orange juice. Why?”
“Because I may find a way to make it up to you.”
“What, by getting me drunk?” Sasha just smiled at her before walking away. “Sasha, am I going to like this?” she called after her.
After getting no response, Taylor muttered under her breath, heading for her office. In the middle of her much unused desk was a large cardboard box. She pulled a letter out from it and ripped it open – it was a sweet letter from a little girl telling her how she wanted to be a writer just like her when she grew up. With a small smile, she settled into her chair and pulled out another. This one, however, contained a rather skimpy pair of underwear and a somewhat lewd love note.
She threw it to the side as her phone went off – a text from Danny begging her to come out for drinks that evening. She shrugged to herself and replied with a yes.
Hours later, Taylor packed the letters back into the box with a small smile – most had been quite nice – and decided it was time to meet Danny.
Ten minutes later, Taylor was slipping into a booth opposite Danny. “I see you started already,” she greeted him, motioning towards the several empty bottles of beer.
“Couldn’t wait,” he shrugged.
Taylor sighed. “You going to tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to play psychic?”
“There’s nothing wrong,” he told her, indicating to the waitress that he wanted another beer. “I just fancied a night out, Hawkes was working, and Flack is at some basketball game.”
“What about Louie? Or Lindsay?”
“Louie is at school and he has to work tomorrow,” he grinned. “What’s the problem, Drew? Don’t you trust yourself with me?”
Taylor burst out laughing. “Whatever, Messer.”
Danny clutched at his heart. “You hurt me, Drew.”
“Seriously, Danny. Quit with the Drew or you will be hurting.”
“You know you love it,” he grinned. “Hang on, I’ll be back.” He disappeared to the bar, and returned a short while later, clutching a napkin, a bottle of tequila and some shot glasses.
“You want us to get banned from another bar?” Taylor asked, her eyes widening at the bottle. “Dare I even ask?”
“Nope, just drink up,” he told her, thrusting a dangerously full shot of tequila in her face.
“Danny, this is going straight to my head,” Taylor complained a few shots later. “I’ve had nothing to eat all day.”
“Good,” responded Danny, slurring slightly.
“And I can see that it’s already gotten to you. Exactly how much did you have before I got here?”
Danny pinched his fingers together. “This much,” he showed her before falling about in fits of giggles.
“Right, now you’re starting to scare me,” Taylor muttered.
Danny’s response was to reach for the tequila bottle and pour another shot for her. “Drink and then I won’t be.” With a shrug, Taylor took it off him and drank.
What seemed like an hour later, although was actually several, due to the large quantities of alcohol both had consumed, Taylor and Danny were completely and utterly drunk. “Two nights in a row,” Taylor giggled. “I haven’t drunk this much since college and Maddy dragged me out constantly.”
“You miss her?”
“Yes and no,” Taylor told him, “I still see her, but it’s not the same.”
“You still see her?” Danny asked, his eyes widening in surprise.
Taylor smacked him upside the head… or at least, tried, missed, and slumped into him. “Doofas! She comes to see me as a ghost.”
“Oh yeah,” he nodded.
“So,” said Taylor, quickly changing the subject. “Now that I have you suitably drunk-”
“Who are you calling drunk, Drew?”
“Looked in a mirror recently?” Taylor sniggered.
“Yeah, and I like what I see,” Danny told her, running a hand through his hair. “And it looks like she does over there. Hang on, I’ll be back.”
Before Taylor could process the sentence, Danny was up and walking to a red head at the bar. Taylor’s mouth dropped open. She had suspected with the flirting earlier that Lindsay and Danny had had an argument, but this was more than an argument. She was up in a shot, joining the conversation.
“Hey, Drew,” Danny bellowed, wrapping his arm around her neck, “I want you to meet my very good friend, Nina.”
“It’s Naomi,” the red head frowned.
“Nancy, like I said.” Danny’s eyes lit up. “Hey, Drew, she has the same first name as you!”
“You must excuse my friend here,” Taylor apologized, dragging Danny back to the table. “You want me to tell you what was wrong with that whole scenario, or do you want to tell me what happened with Lindsay?”
“Nothing happened,” Danny protested, getting defensive.
“Hey,” said Taylor, holding up her hands. “Don’t start with me, Danny.”
Danny slumped back in the chair. “You know about me and Lindsay?”
“Danny, I’ve known about you and Lindsay since before you bought her that wedding ring.”
Danny frowned. “How do you know about this?” he asked, pulling out his wallet, and the ring.
Taylor cracked up laughing, “I went with you to buy it.”
Danny poured another shot. “You’re not drunk enough.”
“I think you’re drunk enough for both of us,” Taylor protested before the liquid was practically poured down her throat. “Enough,” Taylor managed through the spluttering.
“She split up with me,” Danny finally cracked.
“What did you do?” Taylor asked wearily.
“Me?” Danny cried, “I didn’t do anything? I turned up at Rikers the other night to pick Lindsay up and she finished it.”
Taylor sighed. “Have you tried talking to her?”
“She won’t.”
“Have you tried talking to her when you haven’t just been flirting with a lab tech in front of her?”
Danny scowled. “No.”
“So call her, and ask her to meet you for dinner.” Danny dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out his Razr. “Not now, Danny! It’s,” she glanced at her watch. “Hell, it’s 1am! She’s not going to appreciate that. Call her in the morning.”
Danny looked at his own watch and nodded. “Well, we still have some tequila to drink,” he told her, pouring another shot.
Originally posted 12/08/2007