~~~~~*~~~~~

Lisa removed the pregnancy kit from the brown paper bag she had clasped in her hand and stared down at it in apprehension.

She hated Libby for putting the thought in her head that she might be pregnant. If it hadn't been for her, Lisa wouldn't have even considered the possibility, but now it was all that she could think about.

She’d always been religious about taking contraceptives since she was sixteen, and although the doctor had carried out a routine pregnancy test at the surgery when she’d first complained of sickness, it had been negative. Still she knew that there was a small margin for error with all tests, and that a pregnancy test should always be repeated a few days after just to be sure of the result.

Lisa’s menstrual cycle was always pretty regular, and although she'd not missed a period this past month, she had noticed that her flow had been lighter than usual. It wasn't something that had worried her at the time, but now that she put all of her symptoms together she was aware that they all pointed to one very obvious conclusion.

That she was expecting.

Her stomach twinged with anxiety at the thought, and she roughly ripped open the box to find and read the instructions inside.

~~~~~*~~~~~

Joey paced the small confides of the hotel room where he and Sara were waiting for Lisa to come out of the bathroom. He'd been back from the show for about an hour, and had forgone his usual shower to be with Lisa whilst she took the pregnancy test.

"Would you sit down?" Sara complained as she watched Joey walk back and forth in front of the door for the hundredth time. She understood that he was anxious, but his relentless pacing was making her feel worse, and she knew that it wasn't helping him any either.

Lisa had told Sara that she was going to take a test, if only to put the thought once and for all out of her mind, and Sara had agreed to wait with her for moral support.

"What’s taking her so long?" Joey asked anxiously as he turned to Sara. "It's a five minute test, and she's been in there for half an hour, at least."

~~~~~*~~~~~

As Lisa looked at the small, plastic window on the tube that would give her the result of the test, she forced herself to take deep, calming breaths. Three minutes. When had three minutes ever seemed so long a time to wait?

She looked up at the ceiling and squeezed her eyes shut, willing the result to be the one that she was hoping for. She began to count down from one hundred slowly, hoping that by the time she’d finished she would at least have crossed the dreaded three minute mark.

As she neared zero, Lisa glanced down at the box in her lap and read the instructions one last time, memorising the results.

A plus for positive, a minus for negative, she repeated silently to herself again and again before finding the courage to peep at the test.

~~~~~*~~~~~

"You have to calm down," Sara said as reassuringly as she could as Joey continued to stare at her desperately, "Maybe it's not the result she wanted and she needs some time."

The click of the bathroom door opening caused both Sara and Joey's heads to snap round simultaneously, and they both searched Lisa's tearful face for her reaction to the test results.

Lisa bit down hard on her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, unable to look at their hopeful faces as hot tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Sara heard Joey inhale noisily, and she got to her feet to wrap Lisa in a supportive hug.

"Bad news?" she asked in a tense voice, steering Lisa over to the nearest bed and helping her to sit down.

"I'm pregnant," Lisa sobbed, turning to look at Joey who stared back at her with wide, shocked eyes.

Seeing his reaction, Lisa burst into noisy tears and collapsed sideways on the bed, squashing her face into the bedding. Sara sat down next to her in shock and rubbed circles with her hand soothingly over Lisa's back.

"What am I going to do?" Lisa asked in a distraught voice, the sound muffled by the duvet, and Sara glanced over at Joey who seemed to suddenly snap back to reality.

He rushed to Lisa's side. "Baby, baby, it's alright. We'll work something out."

~~~~~*~~~~~

"Thanks for dinner, I had a good time," Clare said with a smile as she stood with her back against the taxi door, preparing to say good–night and make her way back to the hotel. She'd gone out anticipating having a nice evening, but her conversation with JC had clouded her mood. Although she'd found her date's conversation interesting, she knew that there was no real connection between them, and they weren't suited to each other. She’d never really intended the date to go any further than one evening anyway.

In her heart of hearts she knew that she'd only agreed to a date to spite JC. It was the best way she could think of to get back at him.

"Yeah, but the night's still young. There's no need to rush off yet," Clare’s date, Nathan, told her with a cocky grin on his face. He’d been throwing cheesy one–liners like that at her all night, but she’d batted them away as best she could. He wasn’t half as charming as he thought he was.

Clare laughed good-naturedly, but grasped the door handle of the taxi cab behind her back anyway, already wishing that she was inside. "Thanks, but I'm not really a late night kinda gal'," she told him with a tense smile before turning away to open the cab door.

"Sure you are," Nathan replied as he reached past her to slam the partially open cab door closed with his palm.

"No, really," Clare said firmly, all traces of a smile vanishing from her face. This guy wasn't getting the message, and she was beginning to feel uncomfortable. She'd forgotten how pushy and demanding men could be, having grown used to the respectful politeness of her male friends. She began to wonder if their gentlemanly behaviour had ruined all other men for her.

"Come on, Clare. Don't tell me I've wasted all that money on taking you out for no reward." He grinned a toothy grin and closed the distance between them.

By this point, Clare had already worked out her next move, and so it was easy for her to quickly raise her knee to his groan as he leered over her, causing him to fall directly to the pavement in pain. Making the most of the chance to get away, Clare ran around to the other side of the taxi cab and jumped inside, slamming the door shut forcefully behind her.

As soon as she was inside, the taxi driver flicked the locks preventing Nathan from coming after her. He spun around in his seat to face her, a concerned frown on his face.

"Are you alright, love? I was just about to get out and sort that bloke out. I hope he didn't frighten you?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Clare lied, placing a hand over her heart to try to compose herself. She counted her breathing until she felt slightly more in control. "Take me back to the hotel, please." She reached forward through the open partition that separated them and handed the cabbie the directions to the hotel.

"Right-ho," he said as he turned back around and started the engine.

Clare turned her head away from where Nathan was staggering to his feet and watched the bright lights of the city in front of her as the taxi navigated its way into the evening traffic. She felt sick. She needed to get back to the hotel.

~~~~~*~~~~~

Clare was still shaking as she made her way out of the taxi and waited by the driver's window to pay her fare. He seemed to sense that she was a lot more distressed than she was letting on and he quickly told her to forget the bill.

Thanking him, Clare quickly made her way inside the hotel, no longer finding the dark sky and the bright lights of the city as enchanting as she had earlier.

Not wanting to scare Libby—who she knew would be waiting for her in their room and insist on hearing a full run down of her evening—Clare decided to head to the hotel bar to get herself a drink before facing her friend.

She needed something to settle her nerves and stop the shaking of her limbs.

Spotting a discreet, empty table far away from the bar, Clare first ordered herself a martini with lemonade and then went and sat down. Trying her best not to relive the last hour in her head, she folded her arms in front of her and rested her forehead on them, closing her eyes as she willed herself not to give into the tears that were threatening to spill.

What was going on with her life? Why was it that everything she touched went wrong?

I'm alone yeah, I don't know if I can face the night / I'm in tears and the cryin' that I do is for you / I want your love / Let's break the wall between us / Don't make it tough / I'll put away my pride / Enough's enough / I've suffered and I've seen the light

You're my angel / Come and save me tonight / You're my angel / Come and make it all right

"Bad date?"

Clare lifted her head to look up, not bothering to wipe away the tears that were spilling down her face. Her eyes scanned the bar for the face behind the voice.

She didn't have to look far.

He was standing right next to her.

At first he seemed to be enjoying the humour behind his joke, but upon seeing her face JC’s expression changed to one of concern and he quickly crouched down so that his face was level with hers. In that moment, all the drama and anger between them faded away to nothing.

"Clare, what's wrong?" he asked as her tears continued to fall. “Talk to me, what’s happened?”

Clare shook her head. She didn't want to talk about it, least of all with him.

A few months ago she'd have had no problem telling him anything and everything that was pressing on her mind—with a few obvious exceptions—but that’d all changed now. There was a barrier between them that she’d deliberately yet regretfully put up. She was no longer allowing him to be her shoulder to cry on, and that thought alone saddened her more than any other.

"What's wrong with me?" she asked him in a wobbly voice. Instantly JC’s jaw clenched, and he rocked forward on the balls of his feet so that Clare couldn’t escape his intense stare.

"Nothing,” he told her absolutely, staring deep into her eyes. Clare glanced away dismissively, but JC quickly repeated his words. He reached forward to take her hand and bring her attention back to him. "I mean it. There is nothing wrong with you. Why would you even ask that?"

At the feel of his touch, Clare found herself staring down at their joined hands, and she felt another sob rise up in her throat. How long had it been since he'd touched her like this? Had it really been the eternity that it had seemed to her? Had he missed their friendship as much as she had? Did he now blame her for keeping them apart for so long?

Clare looked up after a moment and stared deep into his eyes, letting herself relive their earlier conversation in the hotel room.

“A mistake,” she repeated with a bitter laugh. “I’ve never needed you more than during those months, JC, and you were gone. You were with her. I nearly lost my best friend. I needed you, and you didn’t care.”

She had needed him. More than she could put into words.

Thinking back to that terrible time, Clare was amazed to think that she had survived the whole thing without him. Hadn't he been everything to her at one time? Hadn't there been a time when she couldn't genuinely have imagined him not being a part of her life?

If she could've gone back and spoken to the Clare that she used to be—the loving, light-hearted Clare who had no idea the pain life would be soon throwing her way—she would’ve told herself not to lean so heavily on him. Not to pin all of her current and future happiness on his shoulders. To spare herself the pain she would have to go through by having him ripped away from her.

She knew the experience had made her stronger, but it had also made her cynical and bitter, and she hated that. She hated what she’d become. It wasn’t her. It wasn’t the real her.  

Would she ever be able to be his friend again? Would she ever be able to bring herself to break down the walls between them? Would she ever be able to allow herself to get close to him again? To be his friend? To allow him to be honest with her, and her with him? Completely, this time, without holding anything back.

Hadn't experience shown her that he'd always tried to be honest with her, even when it hurt him to do so? A small part of her understood that he’d been put in an impossible situation that day, and that he'd been forced to push aside his own desires to stand by someone who needed him?

He'd admitted that he loved her even though he'd known that he would have to push aside that love to be with Alyson, for the sake of the baby. A whole lifetime of sacrifice for another person. A baby that would’ve turned out to not even have been his. Wasn't his selfless and forgiving spirit part of what she loved about him?

"...Me and Alyson are not together. We're not engaged, and she's not having my baby."

Would it have made a difference if she had known? Would she have been more willing to listen? To understand? She couldn't count the amount of times that she’d been chewed out by Jamie in the past for being dismissive, and refusing to listen when her temper flared up. Her stubborn streak had often ended up causing her pain, but never more so than now.

Hadn't JC tried repeatedly to get her to listen? Hadn't she thrown it in his face, abused and hurt him, and yet he'd continued to return, again and again, to try to reason with her?

She'd hated him for it of course, feeling that he was only going to hurt her further, but he'd only wanted to try to ease her pain. Would she have been so persistent if the shoe had been on the other foot? Would she have refused to give up, no matter how impossible the situation seemed?

Yes, and the reason was obvious. She loved him, and he loved her.

The tears began to dry on Clare's cheeks as she stared at him, and he back at her. In those few moments, their eyes said more than their words ever could, and Clare felt a warmth inside of her that she knew was beginning to thaw the ice in her heart.

"You're a good guy," she said eventually, "I realise that now."

JC seemed unsure of how to respond. "Thank you?" he replied hesitantly.

"There aren't many out there," Clare remarked as she thought back to her encounter at the restaurant.

“What happened tonight, Clare?” JC asked, the concern creeping back into his face.

"I think I realised something," Clare said, not thinking ahead about what she was going to say but just letting the words flow directly from her heart, "I can go on avoiding you and screaming at you, pushing you further and further away, but you're not going to stop trying to talk me round. You'll always be there trying to convince me to listen. To give you a chance."

“Always,” he said emphatically, his eyes burning with sincerity.

"And it doesn't matter how much it hurts, pushing you away will only make it worse. You hurt me, but I can't keep hurting myself by hating you."

JC maintained his eye contact with her, as he opened up his own heart. “I'm never going to stop beating myself up for hurting you, Clare. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'll do whatever it takes to earn it.”

"I don't know if it's forgiveness, or if I've just given up the fight," She told him with a weary sigh. "I thought it would be easy to hate you, but it isn't."

JC wanted to laugh out loud at the irony of that statement, but decided that it was best not to. It might’ve been difficult for her, but she’d certainly made a good job of hating him.

"I miss my friend,” she said, smiling at him for the first time in months.

JC's returning smile was brilliant. "I've missed my friend, too."

"I can't tell you what—" He paused, realising that even though they may have started repairing their friendship, there were certain subjects that it was best not to broach.  

Clare pulled a face and tilted her head to the side, already feeling more like the old Clare again. “I really don’t want to—“

"—hear it, I know," he finished for her before offering her a self-depreciating smirk.

There was a short silence as they both stared at each other, having a weight of words that needing saying pressing on their shoulders, and yet finding their minds completely blank.  

"It's going to take awhile to get used to you not screaming at me all the time," JC said with a chuckle as he glanced down at their hands and realised that he still had hers grasped gently between his fingers. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. Clare allowed herself to laugh with him. "You've certainly been keeping me on my toes."

"It's good for you,” she said. “There are plenty of women who throw themselves adoringly at your feet, it's about time someone evened up the balance."

“Well, thanks, but I think you’ve given me a nervous disorder.”

They fell into a semi-comfortable silence, and Clare pondered where their conversation would head next. She wasn't in the mood for anything heavy, so she decided to keep it light. No longer able to feel his toes, JC reluctantly got to his feet and dragged a chair close to where Clare was sitting. The muscles in his legs almost instantly started to cramp, but he didn’t care. It had been worth it.

"How was the show?" Clare asked as he took a seat, breaking eye contact for a moment to seek out and reach for her drink. She bought the glass to her lips with a trembling hand which they both pretended not to notice.

Now that she had time to think about it, Clare realised that he must’ve only just returned from the exhibition centre when he'd found her in the bar. She eyed his clothing when she thought he wasn't looking and was surprised to see that he was wearing only a loose fitting t-shirt and a pair of tracksuit bottoms—his usual post show, pre-shower attire. 

"It was okay," he answered and Clare detected an unusual hint of dissatisfaction in his voice. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him which made him laugh.

"I was the screw up tonight," he replied bashfully. "They're gonna give me hell tomorrow."

Clare smiled to herself. She could see the irony that JC was finally going to get a touch of his own medicine. She could already picture the look on his band mates faces as they rub his face in his mistakes—good naturedly, of course. "Just not feeling it?"

"Distracted, I guess." JC replied with a shrug, but Clare knew that his mistakes would be causing him a lot more turmoil than he was letting on. He hated to mess up, and was always harder on himself than anyone else. "I think I'll be better from now on," he added as an afterthought, and Clare felt a blush on her cheeks as she caught the look in his eyes as they met hers.

She swallowed, and reached again for her drink and took another big sip.

'It’s not that I can’t live without you / It’s just that I don’t even want to try / Every night I dream about you / Ever since the day we said goodbye / If I wasn’t such a fool / Right now I’d be holding you / There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do / Baby if I only knew / The words to say / The road to take / To find a way back to your heart...'

"Josh…" Clare began after placing her drink back on the table. She glanced down at her lap and fiddled with her fingers as she tried to put her thoughts into words. "I’m glad we’re talking again and everything, but I think I’m going to have to take it day by day—"

"Clare," JC said firmly causing her eyes to shoot up to meet his. "I don't want you to feel any pressure from me. Quite frankly, it already feels like an incredible achievement that you are even talking to me. I'm not going to push my luck." He chuckled and flashed a smile.

"There's just too much to think about to just rush into something. I don't even know how I feel about you anymore,” she admitted honestly.

She looked into his eyes hoping to see that he understood. Her feelings were too jumbled to allow herself to rush into declarations of something that she may later regret. Only an hour or so ago she'd still been furious with him and she didn't know how quickly she'd be able to brush those feelings away, even after his apology.

"We're friends again, right?" he asked her with a hopeful smile.

"I guess." He raised an eyebrow, and Clare was quick to correct herself. “I mean, yes.”

"Then let's go from there."

Clare felt herself smile at his words, and a warm feeling of relief wash over her. She'd hoped that he'd understand, and he had. Now all she had to do was try to allow herself to trust him again. It might be a slow road, but she already knew that she was well on the path to recovery.

"You're still shaking," he remarked as she lifted her glass to finish the last few mouthfuls of her drink. Clare followed his eyes to her hand as she drew the glass away from her face. The last few cubes of ice that had settled at the bottom of the glass tinkled together at the movement.

"Oh," she said, realising that he was right, and that she did still have the shakes. "Anxiety, I guess," she told him with a dismissive shrug, "I feel like I've been on an emotional rollercoaster tonight." She attempted a laugh which came out way too loud and shaky. Yes, her emotions were on overdrive.

"About that," JC said as the concerned frown returned to his face. "What did happen on your date?"

'I don’t know how it got so crazy / But I’ll do anything to set things right / ‘Cause your love is so amazing / Baby you’re the best thing in my life / Let me prove my love is real / And make you feel the way I feel / I promise I would give the world / If only you would tell me girl / The words to say / The road to take / To find a way back to your heart...'

~~~~~*~~~~~