Late night caller

As Katie's lips meet Scott's, he feels the shock run through him and doesn't pull back. Instead, his arms make their way around her frame, his hands on her back as he returns the kiss. A silent tear escapes to mingle within the exchange until he finally pulls way only to hug Katie tightly to himself.

His head leaning against hers, his heart pounds in his chest, his mind screaming at him so many different things. He felt so upside down, so turned around without a compass to tell him which way to go. He was going against logic. He was going against what he'd been determined to live with.

"I don't know what to do." His voice was quiet, almost a whimper. "I don't want to let you go...I don't want you to walk away again. But I don't know what's right. I just..."

As if afraid she'll slip away, he hugs her tighter. "Tell me what I should do, Katie...I can't do it alone."


Bret chuckles and kicks Charlotte back. "Like I need a reason to call you."

He shakes his head and after their food is ordered, he reverts back to their previous conversation. "Work's alright, and no, nothing fun and exciting...other than you." He tosses her a wink. "I guess if you're twenty feet in the air on a single beam it can be dangerous, but otherwise, no. Dean swung by the other day. He's on his feet a little now, though after seeing how Con's been doing in his place, I think he felt better about the time off for recuperating. Of course...pretty soon all of us will be out of work for a while."

Bret shrugs and takes a sip of his pop, chewing on an ice cube. "That leaves me with long days to sulk, you know." He grins at Charlotte slyly. "Unless I have something to look forward to, like weekend excursions with no destinations."


Jason grins as Misty changes her mind. He was glad she'd get away from here if just for a little while. Heading to the exit, he favors his leg, feeling the meds wearing off for the night. But, he knew if he kept moving, it wouldn't be as stiff later.

Clouds covered most of the stars and barely let light from the moon shine through the night sky. A steady rain came down, predicted to last into the evening.

Once in the parking lot, Jason pulls out in his truck, making sure Misty is behind him before heading into town to the pizza place. Parked and inside, Jason lets Misty go first and they wait for a table, being directed to a booth on the side wall.

Sliding in, Jason can't help a chuckle as he sees Kyle working in the back. "The pizza is good," he muses, glancing at a small sign on the table advertising several specials. "Subs are good, too."

"Yo, Jase!" Kyle has an empty tray in his hand and comes to the table with a grin. Spotting Misty, his eyebrows raise a little, and his mouth opens slightly as if he's going to ask about this strange scene, but then decides better of it. "Hey, Misty." He glances over his shoulder. "Well, since Julie is busy, I'm it. Can I get you guys something to drink?"

"Coke."

Kyle smirks at Jason. "You know we got Pepsi here."

"Yeah, but I just thought I'd ask."

Kyle rolls his eyes and looks to Misty. "Is he this uncooperative at work?"

"Hey, watch it."

Kyle grins and shakes his head. "Oh, by the way, me an' the boys are gonna be helping a friend of ours move next week - he and his family have a ton of stuff so I'm recruiting help. Thought maybe you..." He points to Jason, then turns to Misty. "...and maybe that man of yours could help..." His voice trails off as Jason gives him a look and is shaking his head. Kyle pauses for just a moment, having no idea what Jason is trying to convey, but getting the feeling the answer was 'no' about Carson and that he shouldn't ask. "...or...not....or anyone else for that matter could use your muscles."

Jason shrugs. "I could probably come help out some."

"Okeedokee." Kyle jots down that Jason wants a Pepsi, then turns back to Misty once more. "And a drink for you?"


“Misty!” Carson staggers up the walk towards Misty’s apartment, a new half-drunk bottle of liquor in his hand. He stumbles as little to the side and into the yard before squinting to find his way back to the path. Stopping at the steps, he surveys the route he has to take, and tries lifting a foot, only to miss the step and has to try again. “Misty, you d..dangn’d w’m’n!”

He makes it up to steps, grabbing the railing as he sways backward. “C’mon, hrrr ‘n talk t’ me…!”

It was dark outside and a light rain came down. Carson was drenched from head to toe, having walked from his own place to hers.

He takes another swig from his bottle before attempting the last step, stumbling across the porch and running into the door. His voice raises again. “Misty! Op’n up, it’s…..is…me.”

Leaning against the door and receiving no response, he pounds his palm on the door. “C’mon! Owe it me, ya know it e’v’n if I d’nt say…” His words all run together an in incoherent sentence, the alcohol skewing his own thoughts and slurring his speech.

“Misty!” His hand goes back to pound on the door. “Stop be’n st’bb’rn an’ j’st liss’n a m’n or…or two.”

Another sip of whiskey is downed. “Get out h’r an’…an’ stop bel’ach’n ‘round ‘n liss’n I got w’rds t’ say, I w’nna say.”

The windows remain dark. There is no sound of movement inside. Carson closes his his eyes and leans his head against the door, his hand right back to pounding, but a lack of energy gives it less sound. “Misty!”