"It was crazy," he stated, "one minute, we're talking; the next, she lunges at me and we're making out right there on the roof. And then the stairwell. And then we're hooking up in the elevator ..."

She stood in the same spot as she had been for the last few minutes, frozen there. It couldn't have been; no, it wasn't him. They both just got lucky. Really lucky. She heard his footsteps approaching the bedroom, she scurrying to the side of her bed and kicking the costume underneath her bed. "Sounds like you had a good night."

He walked into her bedroom, a smirk on his face as she jumped from shoving the remnants of her fishnets and shoes under her bed, she jumping up and staring at him from her position. Leaning up against the doorframe, he watched as she went to her nightstand, rummaging in the drawer before pulling out her glasses, setting them on her face. "Headache that bad?"

"Argh, you have no idea," she said quickly, the glasses a decoy so that she could throw his necklace into the drawer. "So you uh, you lost your pendant?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, shaking his head, "somehow, she managed to grip it from underneath my shirt and grabbed it up and out. It's either still in the elevator or it fell when security showed up andI left. Quickly."

She licked her lips, trying to keep her cool. "Security showed?"

"I ... from what I remember ... I hit the emergency stop on the elevator. Things got a little out of hand."

She felt the redness crawl on her cheeks unexpectedly, turning her head. "You remember it all?"

"Nah," he said, shaking his head, chuckling. "I just know that I've got bite marks right here ... "

She turned her head, looking just as he motioned to the curve of his neck. Her stomach dropped, she clearing her throat. "Those are ... interesting."

"Ah, yes. It had to be good. My hips hurt -"

"Argh, enough information," she groaned, her headache suddenly pounding ten-fold. "I have to go to the bathroom." She quickly brushed past him, body shuddering as she felt his body against her side, hurriedly closing the door behind her. "Oh, my God," she mumbled, her mind racing with memories of the night before like the commercial for the perfume Curious.

Of course she dared! Apparently, she dared with way too much alcohol and the bite necks evident on his neck. She leaned up against the sink, head dropping as she sighed deeply, masking the devestated sob that settled in her throat. Pushing away, she backed up, sitting on the toilet and immediately hissing out in pain at her legs, mainly her left leg. Tugging down her pants, she gasped at the bite mark the rested in her inner thigh, muscles aching from the position that she had been in, from the force of this thrusts. If it had been questionable before, it was no longer: she had sex with her best friend, not knowing it was her best friend. She ripped off his necklace in the midst of passion, somehow maintaining a hold of it until she undressed and passed out in her own bed later.

Touching her tender skin, she saw the formation of where his mouth had been, saw the bite marks. A sob escaped her throat, she putting her hand to her mouth and trying to calm herself. How was she going to fix this? How would she be able to fix something between one of her closest friends? There wasn't any deeper feelings than that, she didn't feel for him that way!

And then her stomach lurched, heart beating rapidly. Did she?

She stood, body shaky as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Turning on cold water and cupping it into her hands, she splashed it against the warm skin, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Mouth to collarbone, hip to hip, hands holding to her face, mouth to mouth; bright blue eyes that nearly disappeared when he smiled cheekily, chiseled cheekbones, soothing voice.

"Oh, my God," she said softly, realization washing over her face. She cared about him more than she led herself onto believe.

"Natalie, are you okay?"

She jumped at his voice leaking through the door, turning the water off and using the remnants of the cold water to pat her face once more. "I'm okay," she said softly, composing herself before slowly opening the door. She was met with his concerned gaze, trying to brush it off. "What?"

"You were crying."

"My head hurts," she answered shortly, walking away from him and into the kitchen. How the hell was she supposed to act now?! She slept with the man behind her, following her, and he had no idea that it was her! "I need some strong medication, some strong pills ..." She reached into her cupboard, gasping when he gripped her wrist, stopping her. All right, so maybe it wasn't her head hurting so much as her heart and her feelings ...

"C'mon, Nat, talk to me," he said softly. "I didn't even see you there and I know that if you got as drunk as that headache is hinting, then I would have noticed some girl dancing on the ledge or something, thinking it was a bar ..."

Bar. She told him about dancing on the bar. God, help her if he suddenly realized, if it suddenly dawned on him ...

"I probably wasn't that drunk," she murmured, "I probably just cracked my neck or something when I was going to bed." Which, was the partial truth: she wasn't that drunk. Blind drunkenness had found her when she was a college student, blacking out and not waking up for hours at a time, not ever remembering her rendez-vous' the night before. The night was coming back to her slowly, in bits, flashes. Teeth scraping against breasts, against her jawline, her thigh, her - oh, God. He had been in her ...

"Natalie, you're so fucking pale," JC cried out in shock, he grabbing her elbows to stop her from moving, "come on, sit down." He led her to the kitchen table, sitting her down gently and watching her bury her face into her hands. "Are you really okay?"

She cringed as he touched her back, fingers gently running up and down her back soothingly. With his touch, it sweet, worried, she felt what was left in her stomach begin to churn, bile slowly rising. "I think I'm going to be sick." She turned away from him, rising quickly and running to the bathroom. Throwing herself onto the floor, she heaved what came out as she sobbed hysterically, the thought of what happened and it's repurcussions to come wrecking her on the inside.

"Christ, Natalie," his voice said, soft and worried as he kneeled beside her, hands tucking her hair behind her ears and pulling her hair back, blindly reaching for the hair tie that rested on the sink as he tied it low on her neck. Dropping her hair as he watched her intently, she breathing heavy as she fought the sobs, he unsure of what to do. Getting up, he took the mouthwash that she had, pouring some into the cup and placing it at her lips, waiting for her to gargle and spit it into the toilet. "Here," he said softly, getting back up and placing the cup on the sink, picking her up by underneath her arms, leaning her into him. "I'm taking you to the emergency room."

"No," she mumbled, shaking her head and stopping him from walking. "I'm fine, just nauseous, is all." She gently pushed away from him, stepping unsteadily away. "I just -"

"Come on now," he said softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, leading her back into her bedroom. "You need to lie down."

Thankful she had kicked her costume underneath her bed, she released his neck as he lay her on the bed, she searching his eyes. How had she not known it was him all along last night? The same touch, the same tone? At that moment, the promise to herself to never, ever drink again went through her brain, along with never going to a Halloween party where masks were mandatory.

Never again.

"I'm going to make you some tea, okay?" His eyes studied her, hand sweeping over her forehead, ridding her of the small beads of sweat near her hairline. He pulled her blankets back over her, exiting the room slowly, but not before taking one more worried glance back at her.

Once he was out of earshot and sight, she felt the tears begin, silent sobs escaping as she put her hand to her mouth. What had they done? That one tryst would, and did change everything ... even if he didn't know it had changed. She knew, she'd always know.

She lay there in silence, her tears the only company she had as she listened to him move throughout the kitchen, dishes being movied, the sugar jar on the counter moving. The spoon hitting the sides of the mug brought her eyes to the door, watching as he appeared there shortly after. Crossing the threshold slowly and sitting down in the space she left between her and the edge of the bed, he set the tea down, looking at her with an eyebrow raised, though eyes still dark in concern. "What, Jace?"

"Why do I have the feeling you aren't telling me the truth?" He swept his hand over her forehead again, her eyes falling shut as she swallowed roughly, trying to will the tears away once more.  "Why do I feel like something happened to you and you aren't telling me?"

"I'm fine," she whispered, eyes still shut as his thumb lingered on her skin, gently rubbing it near her temple, "I just need to sleep."

"All right," he said softly, defeat evient in his voice. But she knew him, she knew he wasn't going to give up so easily. "I'll let you rest then."

She nodded, heart speeding up when his lips touched her clammy skin like he had done when he came into the kitchen the day before. "Thanks, JC."

"Mmm-hmm," he murmured, getting up and closing her blinds, leaving the room and closing the door gently behind him.

She sighed deeply, angrily. This was going to be the death of her. Not old age, not some sort of illness; the devastation brought on with the scientific name, sleptith withith bestus friendus; also known as, Joshua Scott Chasez.

He was all over her. After the hook-up, she remembered nothing. Putting pieces together, she figured that she somehow made it to her apartment, stripped of all clothes but her panties and threw on the shorts and tanktop she was now lying in bed in. Which meant, the evidence of sex was still there on the very fabric she wore beneath her shorts; the very thing she is wearing was one that he nearly ripped off of her in the elevator.

She felt weak again, scrambling to her feet and ripping her clothes off, grabbing the robe hanging on her computer chair and went quickly to the bathroom, turning the water as hot as she could handle. Within moments, she was in the shower, head against the wall and crying. Grabbing the washcloth from the shelf she had set some clean ones on, she lathered as much soap as she could get, and while leaning, scrubbed her skin raw. Every place his hand, his body, his lips, his ... she bit her lip to keep the tears away as she tried to contain herself, hissing as she rubbed too roughly against the sensitive flesh between her breasts, eyes clenched shut. She had to rid herself of him, rid herself of the images that riddled her mind of his hands all over her, his mouth on her.

The water was reddening her skin quickly, it almost tender to the touch. Quickly washing her hair and giving herself one more scrub down, she stepped out of the shower and quickly dried off, throwing her robe back on and going into her room, grabbing a clean pair of panties and a long t-shirt. She brushed her hair, sitting down on the bed and pulling open the nightstand drawer, pulling out the pendant and holding it in her hands. Fingers tracing the lion delicately, she blinked back tears. It was her choice: choose to tell him and ruin everything, or forget it ever happened. She couldn't afford to lose him, he was the only one she ever looked forward to seeing anymore.

She'd push aside the fact that the mistake they made last night was the very reason she realized she cared a little too much about him, going over the lines of friendly to friendlier; push aside any other thoughts than, he cared about her simply as a friend and telling him they slept together would be her greatest mistake. She had to forget about it herself, forget it ever happened. She'd have to tell herself over and over again that it never happened; maybe within time, she'd believe her own lies.

She put the necklace back as she lay back down on the bed, curling up into a fetal position and turning the television on, settling on an older episode of Gilmore Girls. Within a few moments, she was sound asleep.

"All right," he said softly, clearing his throat, "so then can I tell you my problem?"

She chuckled. "You? Of all people? You have a problem?!"

"Ha, ha, Natalie," he said sarcastically, clearing his throat again. "If I tell you my problem, you can't think of me any differently."

She felt her stomach drop, possibilities of what he wanted to say racing through her head. "I'd never think of you any differently," she said softly, he giving her the smile that always gave her the weak feeling in her stomach, the sweet, gentle smile, that although it may not have reached his cheeks, his eyes sparkled. And all that was bad in the world was suddenly okay, she putty in his hands. It killed her to know that it took the little tryst that they had had the night before she realized that she had fallen for him blindly. Blindly and helplessly. Shaking off her feelings, she continued. "So tell me what your problem is."

"My problem," he said softly, inhaling as if he were preparing himself to get an earful, "my problem is that I think I've formed an attraction to this ... woman."

A sudden wave of relief went over her. This, this was good. Not only would she be able to focus on the idea of him being attracted to someone else, but he was already moving on from the one night stand with her that he knew nothing about. Maybe it was a woman that worked in his studio, or worked along side him; a friend of a friend, friend of Justin's. "And who is this woman?"

He smiled, this time wider, as his eyes got a faraway look in his eyes. Focusing back on her, he shrugged. "I would like to know, too."

"Wait," she said, confused. "Why would I look at you differently for developing a crush on someone you see from far away? That happens to a lot of people."

"I didn't exactly see her from far away, Natalie," he whispered, she seeing a hint of red crawl up his cheeks, "I saw her pretty close. Intimately close."

Her eyes widened as she realized what he was referring to. Bile was already forming in her stomach, churning as he looked at her expectantly. "A girl you hooked up with on tour? In LA?"

He shook his head. "The girl from last night." When she was quiet, he continued, "I mean, we definitely did something that isn't really something to be completely proud of, but she was different. She was different than every girl I've ever ... well, you know ... hooked up with. The way she touched me was like she knew me forever and it just felt good. It felt good to have a woman touch me without flipping out because of who I was ... even if I was wearing a mask. She approached me and it felt like we were meant to meet last night. She had these amazing brown eyes and -" he stopped, she almost thinking he had put two and two together. He hadn't. "I'm sorry, I'm spilling all this like you even care about some chick I hooked up with."

She smirked slightly, shrugging. "It's fine. At least I'm not hearing how much of a whore she was."

He laughed. "Well, she was dressed like a pretty provocative witch, but that didn't seem to be in her demeanor at all. She seemed pretty shy when I was watching her walk around. She didn't speak to anyone and she looked like she was lost ... until some dick Pirate walked up to her."

She chuckled. "And what did you do?"

"What could I do? She handled herself pretty well, I think. He hit on her for a few moments and she seemed to just go along with it. But when he got pretty much into her, she walked away. Walked away to me." He looked proud at that moment, she only able to contain the slight chuckle from escaping her lips. "I don't know what it was about her, but I can't get her off my mind. I can't ... I keep picturing the way she looked at me right before we kissed and how she felt ... how she felt like home, you know? Like she was this woman I came to all the time." He laughed, shaking his head. "And now I sound like a woman."

"Well, in which case, you are," she joked, he pushing her shoulder gently. "That's abuse. If you weren't a woman, I may have to call the police. Otherwise, I'd beat you."

"Funny, Natalie." He closed his eyes, inhaling slowly and breathing out, letting the silence fall between them. "Rest, would you? I'm sick of talking."

She smirked, turning over onto the side she usually slept on, feeling him scoot closer to her, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Thanks," she murmured, letting her eyes fall. "Thanks for being here."

"Anytime, Nat," he murmured, leaning back up against the pillows, "I just wish you'd tell me what was going on in your head."

"I know you do, but I don't want to talk about it." She closed her eyes tightly, feeling emotional all over again. The bile rose, stomach churning. "I'm going to get sick again," she groaned, getting up and running for the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Though nothing ended up coming out, she still felt as horrible as she did when it slowly rose in her throat, stinging and feeling like a large lump that she couldn't swallow. He was like a pill she couldn't swallow; couldn't get rid of - not that she wanted to. But she knew once she swallowed and bit the bullet, she would lose him after he found out what she knew.

She took a deep breath, opening up the door and walking back into her bedroom. "Sorry," she said softly, seeing him sitting on the edge of the bed facing the opposite wall on her side, head down. "I'm okay now."

"Good," he said softly, eyes still settled between his legs where his hands were. He was stoic, never moving. He didn't even look up to see if she really was okay.

She grew alarmed at his suddenly change in demeanor, walking into the room and looking at him worriedly. "Jace, are you okay?"

He finally brought his gaze up, she gasping at the sudden darkening of the light blues of his eyes. "How could you keep this from me?"

She looked at him, alarmed. "Keep what, exactly?"

He brought his hand up, her heart pounding and color draining from her skin as she saw the pendant dangling off of his hooked finger. "I thought I'd be the nice guy, get you some aspirin that I knew you kept in your drawer and make you take them. Then, get this, as I'm opening up the drawer, something oddly familiar looks up and me and I'm like, 'hey, Nat found my necklace!'. Then, I'm like, 'well, she couldn't have because I lost it last night ... unless I didn't wear it last night and thought I did.' But you and I both know that this necklace never leaves my neck unless it unclasps, which it's been famous for, or gets tugged on. And then the wheels started turning and I'm thinking, 'oh, holy fuck, it was Natalie.' I had sex with you last night, Natalie."

Her chest was heaving as she tried to hold in scared sobs, his eerily calm demeanor scaring her more than the act itself did. "JC -"

"Is this what you were so hung up on? So sick about? Jesus Christ, Natalie, why couldn't you just tell me?! Why did you let me go on and on about this amazing girl who ended up being you?"

She took a step back, offended. "Gee, way to make a girl feel good."

He shook his head, weaving a hand through his hair and getting up, she backing up once more as he stepped away from her and towards her door. "That's not what I meant and you know it. Why couldn't you tell me? Why couldn't you tell me before it happened?!"

"In case you forgot, I was drunk, JC. I wasn't the only one trying to get into someone else's pants!"

"I know, Natalie, but God! You knew! I can't ... I feel sick." He stopped moving abruptly, leaning up against the wall and holding his forehead. "Oh, my God ..."

"What do we do about this, huh? Why do you think I was trying not to tell you? I didn't want this to happen and I didn't want you to go over in your head a billion times what happened and how it's going to affect probably the best relationship you and I have ever had with the opposite sex. How you are probably the only man in my life, besides my father that I trust completely and suddenly witht his burden on my shoulders, not knowing if I should tell you or not because I know the trust would somehow diminish, regardless of it being a mistake or not. How it went through my head that this is going to completely fuck up whatever we see each other as. How, even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to look at you the same way and I was okay with that because you weren't looking at me like that. That I'd live with knowing what was done and do nothing about it because I'd rather have the burden myself and not lose you than tell you and probably lose you."

"You kept this from me. Best friends don't keep things like this from each other! Especially when it deals with fucking each other!"

"Jace, stop it." She stepped forward, reaching for his hand that was yanking at his shirt, he suddenly uncomfortable within his own skin. He looked at her, eyes wild. "Jace, we'll fix this -"

"How the hell can we fix this? We fucked up so bad, Natalie; so bad. You let me go on and on about how this woman I slept with was someone I wanted to go after and it was you. It was you! You let me go on and on and make an ass out of myself! You ... God, I can't even look at you right now without thinking of last night." He stepped away from her, briskly walking through the apartment to her kitchen. "I have to go. I need to go. I can't be here right now."

"JC -"

"Just, stop, Natalie, okay? Just stop."

"Josh, you can't leave like this."

His face reddened at the use of his first name, he shaking his head. "And you can't keep secrets like this, either."

She opened her mouth to speak, he holding his hand up to silence her as he grabbed his keys. "Ice cream is in the freezer, cake is on the counter. I'll see you later, Natalie."

"JC, please -"

"Goodbye, Natalie."

She cringed as he slammed the door, shaking her head. She knew there wouldn't be a later. It was a see you never. Grabbing the door and swinging it open, she stepped out into the hall, watching his form walk away towards the elevators. "JC, stop, please."

"No."

She turned, closing her door and running after him, catching up to him as he hit the button to go down to the ground floor to the parking garage, he not meeting her gaze. "You have to let me explain this, JC. You have to let me explain why I kept it from you when I know I should have said something the moment I realized what happened between us last night ..."

"I don't want to hear excuses, Nat," he murmured, looking at her through his peripheral vision. "I'm sick of being lied to."

"Yeah, well, I'm sick of being looked at like I'm some whore," she snapped, his eyes widening as she spat it out at him. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to fuck up what we had, JC. You're my best friend and if anything ever came between us like this, it'd kill me. You're the only person I respect around here, the only person that I care what they think. I may not show it much, but I do care about you and what we have a lot. Last night, should never have happened and I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. But you weren't exactly Mr. Prude ripping off my fishnets, either!"

"And you weren't exactly Miss Innocent shoving your tongue down my throat, either -"

"Stop it," she snapped once more, shaking her head. "You know why people hide things like this. It hurts them, it tears them apart. If someone loves another person, they would do anything in their power to refrain from that. To do anything to keep them happy and I tried. I tried so hard and it made me sick to my stomach thinking what happened because of two drunken, horny people."

"Are you saying that you love me," he asked softly, seeing how pale she became with just that question. "That in order for you to protect me, because you ... loved me, you had to keep it from me?"

"Of course I love you, you're one of my best friends!"

"No," he murmured, "that's not what you meant. You meant it the other way."

She took a step backward, shocked that he was laying it out in front of her like he was. "No, I -"

"That's how you said it."

She stood there, silent. She had already dug the six feet for a proper burial, why not dig further? Their relationship as friends was doomed anyway. "I did."

He turned his head, confused. "You did, what?"

She sighed deeply. "I did mean it that way. That is why I was suddenly sick to my stomach. I realized that there's a whole new level of caring that I have for you and it's because I loved you."

The elevator doors dinged, he jumping at the sound. Looking from her and to the door, he looked almost as if he were making a life and death decision. In a way, he was. "I have to go," he mumbled. He quickly got into the elevator, letting the doors slide shut without so much as a glance back at her.

Her shoulders slumped. She had to be strong, she expected this. She knew this would happen. This was how her life measured up, anyway. Things come out at the wrong time and she was the one left to pick up the pieces. Not this time, she'd be strong, she'd move on.

Closing the door, she walked slowly into her bedroom, crawling back onto her bed and lying down, cringing when something rubbed against her back roughly. Reaching underneath her blindly, she pulled out the pendant, eyes immediately watering.

Okay, maybe next time she'd be strong.