"...No..he's not a scoundrel, Bou. He's a really nice guy. But you know, sometimes you just can't make things be what you think they ought to be. You'd think I would have worked that one out already, don't you?"

It was early evening in the pub and a few of the girls were gathered around the bar just after opening. Not many men were about apart from some of the younger ones who had clearly called in on their way home from work; some of them were playing pool, others watching some sports match on cable.

Marie, Ann, Clarity and Bou had sat at the bar and it hadn't taken them long to work out I wasn't exactly full of the joys. Nor did it take them long to work out that Alex was the cause of it. The pair of us had been almost inseparable for a few weeks and then suddenly he was not around and I was moping around like a wet weekend.

Jeff wandered in and I asked him if he would keep an eye on the bar for a little while and we girls adjourned to my upstairs lounge. Heather wandered in just out of the shower and she sat down on the arm of my chair. She knew something was up but not the details.

"Alex and I have finished. If we ever really started. He's gone away for a while and we are not together any more...he wants some space...or whatever they called it in his day...."

Everyone made the usual shocked faces and irate noises. There also followed the usual interlude of men as the beasts of the apocalypse:

"Men make you lose weight, you know? They're cheaper than Weight Watchers and special diets. You see, they're a bit like having a serious illness. Moments of fever when you can't feel a thing but mostly - a pain in the arse. And they give you constipation, too...." I moaned. That caused a little bit of puzzlement so I enlarged upon my theory:

"Well, you don't eat properly for one thing because you are sick for thinking about them-  or you go out to dinner and eat like a bird because you don't want to look like a pig. Or you are trying to get into your thin jeans or something too small for you....and then there is the fact that you can't actually relax in your own bathroom....I mean....they might find out you go to the loo! Wouldn't that be awful? Or the minute they leave you are so hungry you just eat EVERYTHING that you can put your hands on after HOURS of pretending you are a delicate little bird... and it bungs you up more...Thus, it screws up your bowels... it never seems to happen to them though, does it? Unfortunately."

But I couldn't let them go on thinking that Alex was some kind of love rat. He wasn't that at all. What had happened between us was a joint failure. OK...so he had spent the last ten days shagging me every which way - and then lit out. On paper it doesn't make him look as though he behaved like a gentleman. And yet, I cannot let him take the rap for what happened.

So, we made a pot of coffee and opened a stack of cookies and I told then the story of how it had been.

I didn't sleep with Alex that first night, whatever other people thought at the time. We did, however, spend a lot of time together during the next few days. Ross seemed to want to stick close to me and it seemed a good idea - he needed to learn a lot quickly and there was no doubt that I was an old hand at this 'settling in' business. So he tagged along while I did the marketing, went to the bank, forced myself to the gym, picked up my dry cleaning - all the usual boring stuff. I even took him to the movies. Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. It amused me to watch his reaction to that Thirties kitsch - to him it was how films were made. Well, almost.

Even the simplest things fascinated him: a TV remote, my cafetiere, cell phones, electric razors, so many things - not to mention the real biggies like computers and alarm systems. Yes, that really intrigued him and he set it off a few times just for fun. I got him some modern duds: jeans, boots, shirts, a jacket - he didn't like the pants because he said they were too tight (they weren't) I guess he was used to wider and more pleated trousers that didn't hug his body so closely. However ladies did not seem to agree with him - he has a fabulous body and turned heads wherever he went.

The hat was a problem - he is very attached to it and, although I tried exchanging it for a baseball cap, that just didn't do it for him at all. So we made a deal that he didn't wear it out but he could in the bar. I mean, I liked it fine but the general public was inclined to stare. My neighbours are suspicious enough already.

Then one day, not long after he'd arrived, as I was just stacking some shelving in the bar before opening, he crept up behind and slipped his arms around my waist. He is a very tactile man and likes to touch. When he talks to you, his eyes are constantly working, taking in every detail: sometimes he even appears not to be listening but he always is. His fingers drum and fiddle with things, button up my jacket, play with a strand of my hair, brush an imaginary speck of dust from my jeans. He stands a little too close, leans in a little too much, walks backwards while talking if we are out and about, animated and quick fire, always nervous and trying to be smart. Sometimes I wish he would slow down and take a breath, but I think he is afraid to do so. He might just catch up with himself if he did that.

So, into my life stole this young man who just sneaked under my radar and completely knocked me for six. I'm not quite sure what it was about him that blew me away. His face? His smile? His eyes? His body? His charm? His little boy lost look? I suppose it was a combination of all those things, mixed in with the fact that I was searching for something and he seemed simply to fall into my lap when I most needed it.

Who can ever really understand the chemistry of human attraction? But one thing was indisputable. I desired him and he desired me. There was what felt like an invisible thread that was coiling itself around us and reeling us both in. If he entered a room, I somehow knew even if he said nothing. When our eyes met, it was as if one of us had spoken to the other. I found my attention slipping all the time and my interest in anything but him waning.  It was though I had become addicted to him and it was taking away my ability to function with my friends and at my work; all I wanted was to be with him and near him and basking in his attention.

I began to wonder if this was love. How can you feel love so suddenly? Isn't it something that grows over time and knowledge of each other, through shared experiences good and bad, a deeper and more tranquil emotion than the one that had seized me by the vitals and shaken me like a dog with a rabbit?

I took to reading of the meaning of passion, the great poets, the philosophers, and I grew even more confused. Love is so many things to so many people. What was it to me? What was it to him?

Isn't that all that counts in the end?

So there we were behind the bar when he slipped his arms around me and pulled me close. I leaned back against his chest and let him enfold me as his head dipped down to place a soft pressure on the tender skin of my neck. His lips brushed my ear and he whispered: "Hey, Uma...wanna do something tonight? They ever let you off for good behaviour? I could take you to dinner. I could take you dancing. The movies? What does a guy do these days to date a girl?"

I sighed and tilted my face up to him. His hand held my chin and his thumb traced the seam of my lips. "A date? A real old fashioned date? You are on...and I'll be a real old fashioned girl, Alex. I'll leave it up to you..."

He kissed me and I melted. It felt so good, so unusual, to allow a man simply to make decisions for me. It had been a long time since I had either had a man who had tried or had let one close enough in. And you know what? I think I liked it. So easy. Just let yourself be taken by the hand and know that someone would be around to catch you when you fell.

Alex asked me to wear something feminine, something clingy, leave my hair down. "None of this modern style that makes women dress like boys. I like a woman to look and feel like a woman," he had observed. I did not let his comment rile me as I might have done if other men had said it. In fact I was secretly overjoyed. He thought of me as a desirable woman. I wanted to be a woman like that.

So that was why I tip-tapped later that evening into the bar on impossibly high heels and with a dress so fine and draped that it felt like gossamer. It was a Champagne peach colour and was the kind of dress that if you had a decent chest then it would have made you look completely blousy. So for once my physique worked in my favour. I'd been to the hairdresser's and had my long hair crimped and streaked; it was wild and untamed down my back. I wore nothing but a pair of silk panties underneath - and a very liberal spray of perfume.

The men in the bar stopped when I strode in. Alex had been having a beer with Bud and the two men stopped and openly stared. I broke up a pool game while Johnny and Dominic hung about the door leering. Max sat staring thoughtfully, rubbing a hand over his soft beard, his green ice eyes piercing. Terry raised his head at the other end of the bar and chewed on his upper lip. I tossed my hair and held out my hand "Well, Mr. Ross....this clingy enough for you....? Hold on to your hat, pal...we are going to have us a good time...."

It sounds a bit childish when I put it like that, as though I simply needed to bolster up my confidence by seeing if I could sock it to a few guys with an entrance. I suppose it is really. But I did it for Alex, too. I wanted him to be proud that he was having me on his arm. He deserved that.  And he did not disappoint "You better not take my breath away again, Slim...how'm I going to survive the night? Unless you kiss me...only fair after stopping my heart an' all..."

So he kissed me there in front of everyone and everyone just disappeared. The world only consisted of two people. It was a very small world after all.

Alex took me to a tiny bistro on the High Street. It wasn't a flash place but an intimate little restaurant with tiny tables and simple fare. I don't know what we ate. He held my hand all the way through and fed me from his plate. We drank from the same glass. Our table was in a quiet corner lit only by a candle light and the soft glow danced on our faces, reflected in our eyes and flickered at our shadows as we merged against the wall. We rested our heads close across the table, spoke of many things, some nonsense, some important words, heady on wine and dizzy on each other.

Time seemed to hang over us and have no meaning; the noise of a dropped glass on another table and a burst of laughter from other diners only registered on some distant part of our brains. This man was in my head, my eyes, my senses, easing himself smoothly under my skin, until it was not a question of 'shall we?' but only a matter of 'when?'

At some point he suggested we leave. I suppose he paid the bill. I remember only his arms wrapping my shawl around me and steering me out into the chilly night. He took my hand in his and we strolled along. He was warm and I was shivering, the flimsy dress and my bare legs far from suitable for the time of year. He threw an arm about my shoulders, then hugged me into his body beneath his jacket until finally he simply ripped it off and hung it about my shoulders and thus we walked home under the stars, laughing softly and talking of the moon and the stars and thing we wished we could do.

Arriving back at the pub was a rude awakening . The lights were all blazing and the car park crowded- it looked like they were all out in full and I knew I ought to take my turn behind the bar before closing. It was only fair. Outside the door, leaning on the hood of someone's car, he pushed me back and kissed me, dragging me by the waist and crowding me in. I wanted to be crowded. I wanted him to crawl all over me with his big muscular body. I wanted him to crawl inside and fill me with his virile strength. I wanted to feel his hands all over me. I'm not sure how either of us dragged ourselves away from simply making love there under the night sky. But somehow we prised a space between us, stopped, panted for breath, smoothed each other down, wiped lipstick and rearranged hair, found his hat that had fallen off and rolled under a car, zipped up his pants that had someone come open in the frantic moment of passion, restored his jacket to its rightful owner, fixed his tie and then we deemed ourselves ready for the fray.

We slipped in, hand in hand, and I excused myself to return to the bar. Alex went in the direction of the Men's room - I think he needed to splash some cold water on his face and ease down before he faced the rest. I served a few drinks but I was watching for him to return as if his absence, even if only a few feet away, was more than I could bear. Terry was there; I felt his eyes on me but when I looked in his direction he was turned away and deep in conversation with Gaia. His back was facing me and it seemed an impossible obstacle like a rampart that I could never have breached. I wondered why I had even dreamed it were possible.

Then I felt his hands about me and I spun around. Alex was back and I don't think the cold water had helped him much if the hard pressure on my buttocks was anything to go by. He ground his hips and let go a deep sigh into my ear. We were behind the bar, almost on display and I was conscience of eyes swiveling to watch the floorshow.

"Alex...stop it...people can see! Behave....I need some more mixers...go out the back and bring me a few crates in, sweetie?" He complained but complied and went out to haul in a few crates moments later.  The he took my hand and kissed it dramatically. I giggled.

"Hey...give me my hand back....stop it...!ALEX!!" 

He was relentless and seemed not to care if there was an audience. "Can't you close up early? Tell them the place is on fire or something? C'mon...I'm dying here, honey..." He swung me against him again and nuzzled closer. I was finding it hard to breathe as he nibbled at my ear and whispered, "We can't stop now...let me hit the alarm cos, lady, I am on fire here...." and he rocked against me some more.

I think Scarlet overheard that because she gave me the nod and muttered with an evil laugh, "Go on, I was going upstairs but you've got more going on than me so I'll take over behind the bar.  You go have some fun - or whatever...!!" She gave me a roll of her eyes and a sway of her hips, but I didn't care. All I could say was:  "Thank you thank you thank you thank you....." as Alex took my hand and pulled me to the stairs. I don't suppose anyone missed our exit or had any doubts about what we had in mind.

That's when things changed. Where we had been frantic before, now we became calm, like a sea before a storm. I led him to my door and he opened it for me, standing back to let me enter before slipping in behind me and closing it. I heard him turn the lock. Now we were alone. No one could touch us now.

He flicked off the light and drew the curtains, letting only moonlight fall into the room. With a gentle tug, he pulled me into his arms and we moved in a dance of our own rhythm, turning round and round and closer and closer to the bed. He held my hand in his tightly, this time he would not let me run away or back out. This time I wouldn't have dreamed of it. My left arm stole around his neck and massaged the nape, he flexed back and bared his throat; I wanted to kiss him there.

"How do we do this?" he murmured. I looked up unsure what he meant. "I mean...do I need to use something?" I shook my head. He smiled. "Good...I want to feel you. I don't want anything between us. Not even air."

He sank down onto the bed and pulled me into the space between his parted thighs. His loose suit trousers were obscenely arranged, the pleats distorted by his arousal into a fanned tent, enlarging not disguising his state. It made me tremble. He twirled me round so that my back was facing him. His hands reached to the back of my dress and eased down the zip, letting his knuckles trace down my spine, vertebra by vertebra; then he slipped his palms against my bare skin that prickled with anticipation.

His warm hands rested on my naked waist and he leaned forward and planted a line of kisses all the way down where his fingers had just traveled and then he let down the dress from my shoulders until I was bare to the waist. His hands moved up and cupped my naked breasts, squeezing gently and rubbing the tender nipples with his thumbs. I cried out a little whimper at the sensation on my already aching flesh. Heat gathered between my legs, moisture pooled; I felt the tingling fire of need begin to shimmer out through my nerves and then gather back to assault my desire again.

I sensed his touch even before he reached a place. I remembered it when he moved on. As he let his hands explore me, I stood writhing in his hands as he covered my front with his touch and my back with his lips.

I felt him give the dress a little push and it snaked sensuously down my legs to lie like a splash of frothy champagne in a glass at my feet. It was his turn to whimper as he saw the tiny silk scrap I was wearing. With a sort of reverence, he smoothed his hands over my buttocks and then round to my belly and below, cupping the damp warmth in his wide palm and rocking his body in his own need. Then he simply pushed my panties down and continued to kiss me: the base of my spine, the crease of my buttocks, his tongue darting and tasting as I shivered before him.

He eased back.

I turned around. 

I watched as he gazed at my nakedness for the first time and let him have his feast. Where his eyes went, his fingers followed and then his sweet lips, until he had buried his head against my lower body and was rubbing his cheek softly against my dark curls. His fingers slipped between my legs and he slicked through my softness. We both whimpered.

He took his fingers and raised them to his lips and lapped, I fell onto his shoulders, unable to stand the lack of contact with his flesh. Alex dropped back onto the bed and I fell with him, climbing up to straddle him, wanting to display myself lewdly for him as I stripped his clothes away. First his tie, then his shirt, then the T-shirt pulled roughly over his head and thrown away. He grabbed me and insisted on a kiss; we tongued each other deeply, hungrily, sexual frenzy building, mouths just a prelude to what was to come. As we kissed he played with my naked sex, thrust in his fingers, stroked the petals, rubbed the tender nub until I pulled away too eager for his body now to wait for any decorum.

Fumbling with the unfamiliar buttons and zipper, both of us working to remove his trousers, I raised myself while he rid himself of his shorts and then surveying him lying there completely naked before me, his cock hard and vital, weeping for my touch. I bent down and licked the pearly drop and heard his hiss. I don't think he had expected such an act from a woman he was dating. It was probably on the wilder side of sex in his day, the sort of thing you paid a woman to do. I wondered for a fleeting moment if he would pass some kind of judgment on me but the thought skittered away. He didn't seem to be that type of man at all; he was too sensual and tactile to fail to understand the instinctive nature of such a moment.

I raised my head and for a long moment we just looked at each other and then I was in his arms and he rolled me beneath him. He was the man, he was in charge, this was his seduction - for Alex, it allowed him to reclaim his masculinity which much have been sapped by the past days when he had had to trail behind me like a little kid as I taught him how to survive in this brave new future. But alone, stripped naked, a man and a woman - there was one place where nothing had changed and he was free to be the man he believed himself still to be.

Glorious. He rose above me and I opened to him as he rested between my thighs and then pushed into me, deeper and deeper and deeper. I arched, he thrust, I wrapped him round, he ground in lazy circles, I grasped his biceps, felt the ripple of strength as his arms took the strain of his strong body, he dropped his head and kissed my mouth as his cock kissed the neck of my womb. There was not even air between us.

Later, still lying entangled, his head in the crook of my neck, his body covering me, his cock resting in the warm dampness of my crevice and his legs furred with hair rubbing up and down upon mine, we spoke softly, murmured sweet nothings, sighed and giggled with sheer elation of each other and the sensation of love.  There were voices outside on the corridor, muted talk, goodnights exchanged and then a strange noise that for all the world sounded like a slow hand clap. Some one said "Bravo!"  It was more distinct than the other voices and we exchanged a look.

"Who's that?" Alex muttered, raising his head and rolling to his side, before looking about the room. "Could have sworn I heard a voice..."

"It's outside. One of the others going to bed. All of them maybe. Dino or Zack. Who knows what they're up to?"

"You think they were letting us know we made a lot of noise? This bed squeak?" he asked with a grin.

I laughed. "Don't you even remember?  No, it doesn't. And no, we didn't. We were surprisingly quiet."

He stroked my hair and let his fingers travel on down to my naked breast. "You are too beautiful for words. Take a man's breath away. How could I even remember my own name?"

If this isn't love, then I don't care. I'll take it any day over sleepless nights and heartache. 

Or that is what I thought that night as we kissed and came together again. And again. And again. And again...

"How many times was that?" Ann remarked, definitely impressed. 

"Not sure. Lost count."

We kept falling asleep and then waking, disturbing each other. All night long, In and out of dreams. In out and of lovemaking. It was like some protracted erotic fantasy that just happened to be real. Amazing. By morning we were just high on it. Love soaked. Crazy. Didn't even leave the bed until midday. When we finally staggered down, our fun and games must have been written all over our faces. Alex took a shower and came and joined me as I was getting ready to open up downstairs. Heather had given me a nod but we hadn't had time to say anything because Dino was around as were Zack and Scarlet.

But everyone stole a sly glance when Ross sauntered in, as cocky as you please, with that obviously freshly fucked looked on his face. He was bouncier than he had been since he had arrived when he had kept pretty low key for the most part and the others did not miss the change in his demeanour. The men exchanged nods and Alex winked at the girls before sliding his arms around me. He spoke softly but I'm sure they could all hear.

"You feeling alright, honey...? That was quite some night...and morning....worked up an appetite, hey? Want me to hang around, give you a hand behind the bar? I need to keep you close to me today... "

I wriggled out of his grasp and danced off to make some coffee. He followed and nuzzled up some more. "Is that the time...? Mmmmmmm....you feel so good...know what I want now?

I giggled. "Hmm....let me guess....? Something warm and wet and very filling... substantial, you might say...What every man wants when he wakes up...?"

"You got it in one, Slim...you gonna cook me some lunch?" I burst out laughing and ruffled up his hair - but I did as he asked. And I caught the looks of the others. Uma? Cook? Without moaning?

It happens.

On the odd occasion.

"She never washed up though," Heather muttered. I grinned back at her. She knows me well.

After that, we were just insatiable. We could literally not keep our hands off each other and every time that we were in a room together, it was the same. I don't know if I have ever had so much sex in my life in such a short space of time. Jeff used to groan when he copped us out the back or in the storeroom with a "Don't you two ever take a rest...?"

We used to try all different parts of the pub when it was before or after hours - we had it on the pool table, the main bar, the patio, the darts corner, the dining room, up on the roof, in the pump room, even against the wall in the garden.

"I think I owe you an apology, Esme. You got an eyeful a few times, didn't you?"

Esme blushed. "I shouldn't have been looking, really, but...he's got such a lovely bum..." Then she trailed off and looked as if she wished she could bite her tongue off.

I can't explain the way he made me feel. The nearest approximation I can make is that he was like a drug and the more I had the more I wanted - and it seemed he felt the same about me. At first, before we had made love, we talked so much. I had told him about this modern world and got him up to speed on what had happened in the interim years and he told me a lot about his wartime experiences and what had happened when he had returned home. But once we 'consummated' the affair that all seemed to stop. It was just wall to wall sex. We just did it all and then some, like we were frightened that the world was about to end and we simply had to get a lifetime's in.

I spent most of the time we weren't shagging lying in warm baths and walking very gingerly. I was bruised and aching, he was cut and sore. But still we kept at it; it just made us groan more. I can't believe it really. It was just too much. Too fast. Too quickly.

And then it all came to an end as quickly as it had begun. It was like a firework that explodes on the night sky and showers the scene with light then fades in a few seconds and all is dark again.

It began with a few simple words. One morning Alex woke me up the usual way, lying over me and rubbing with his morning glory, kissing my neck and muttering vague comments that  mostly made no sense. I adjusted myself, opened my lags and let him settle and then he suddenly stopped and looked me straight in the eye. "Why do you never say no?"

I opened my eyes and stared at him. "What do you mean? I want you! I love that you want me..." I wasn't sure what he was getting at.

He flopped back onto the pillow. "Is sex all we have?" he asked.

"Pardon?" I gasped and sat up, pulling a sheet round me. I suddenly felt embarrassed by my nakedness

He threw his arms above his head and contemplated the ceiling. "I just think it would be nice if we stopped and talked occasionally..."

"And exactly how is that my fault? Is it my fault because I don't say 'hey, boy, slow down, we need to talk?' Why don't you try an inaugural conversation, sweetheart? Or is that woman's work?"

It went downhill from there. 0-90 in a few seconds. Next thing I knew he was jumping out of bed hopping about in temper trying to get his pants on whilst shouting at me. I threw all the pillows and the cushions off the bed at him and also a few books that had been lying on the bedside table. He just kept ducking and throwing jibes back while I screamed hysterically at him.

In moments, he was out of the door which he banged so hard behind him that it shuddered - and I never saw him for the rest of the day.

"That was Sunday. When you moped around for hours and then came down and ate everything in sight, plus a quart of Ben and Jerry's..." Heather observed.

"I was sick later. And no, I'm not bulimic. I just stuffed myself."

But it had been a truly awful row and we had both just completely lost our heads saying things that were completely off the wall and so untrue. I spent the entire day regretting my outburst, wishing I knew where he was, cursing that I had never bought him a cell phone, wanting to talk to him and say how sorry I was. He had been right -although he hadn't phrased it all very well. We were an odd couple and we had let our sexual attraction run riot and become out of hand. Somehow while we had thought we were falling in love, we had actually been falling in lust to such an extent that it had atrophied our normal mechanisms for growing in a relationship. We had become just the sum of each other's body parts.

And sex is not love. No matter how many times you say it while you are rooting each other. But love can be sex as long as it is many other things as well. I saw our error all too clearly on that lonely day after he had stormed out.

That night I couldn't sleep. Lying awake staring at the ceiling I replayed the events ever since Ross and I had first met and began to piece together the mistakes we had made. Somehow ever since he had walked in it had seemed as though his arrival was an omen that I had been wasting my time on a man who would never care for me and here was my destiny in Ross. I think he had thought something like that too, coming back from that magical trip with Myra and being on the brink of love with her. He washed up at my bar and believed this was the culmination of all that the film had had to say. I was the love that he had been destined to meet and the strange events of his past few days, coupled with the weirdness of his crossing, and then I had merely convinced him all the more that such had been the miracle waiting for him. Even the strange physical bond we seemed to have, like a magnetic force, gave some credence to our fevered brains.

And then we both had proceeded to make the dream come true. 

But you can't. Love isn't something that happens in an instant. There is no magic potion that can make you suddenly belong to someone new. And no matter how good sex is, it is when you are out of bed and coming together as people that your life really starts. We had simply been running further and further away from that moment, burying the truth that we did not wish to acknowledge in a wild and frenzied infatuation. But underneath the truth was clear. We were still alone. It was not in the Plan for us to heal each other.

I heard the door open gently and saw Ross outlined in the shadows of the door way.

"Can I come in?" I heard him say.

"Sure..."

He took off his jacket and shoes and lay down beside me on the bed, I held him in my arms. We talked. We hugged. We both cried. 

But we did not make love.

The next morning I left him sleeping, kissing back the lock of hair that tumbled on his forehead. I knew it was the last time he would lie in my bed and did not wish to end the dream too soon.

It was about an hour later when he came down and walked into the bar. I was pretending to polish the surfaces. He was showered and shaved and dressed. He was carrying a small hold-all. I knew he was leaving.

"You off somewhere? What's with the case??' I asked feigning nonchalance. "When were you planning on telling me? Or was I just to work it out from the empty space in the bed?" I wished as soon as I had said the words that I hadn't spoken them out loud. But it was too late. I am always my own worse enemy in the end

"I was going to tell you. I am telling you. Now," he hung his head and seemed to be searching for the right words as he traced a pattern on the floor with the toe of his shoe.  "I just need some time. I've gotta get my head round all this weird magic stuff. I'll be gone for a couple of weeks...maybe longer...Uma, I need to get my own life. I can't put things on hold any longer. I need a job. I need a place of my own. I need to make sure that this was...you know?  I'm sorry, honey. I should have listened to you. You warned me that first night. We went too far, too fast. Burnt ourselves out. I know this is not gonna make you feel much better tonight...but you were right."

I nodded. "Like a supernova."

"Huh?"

"Doesn't matter..." I smiled sadly.

Alex put down the case and walked over to me. "I owe you so much. I won't forget, Slim. I promise I'll make it up to you. One day."

"Yeah, right... but not today, hey?" He shrugged and I hunched my shoulders. "See ya around, Ross. Take care of yourself. Don't do anything I wouldn't do. I don't do karaoke, by the way...that should cramp your style." He laughed and shook his head. "Well.... aren't you even going to kiss me goodbye?"

He swept me up into his arms and kissed me tenderly. I hung on and held him tight. As he let me go, he brushed my lips with his and whispered, "Be good, Slim...he's out there somewhere. The one for you..." He broke away and turned to go but then he stopped and took off his hat, flipping it over to me. I caught it with a grin.

"Keep it warm for me. I need to find a new style...."

"That was this morning. He's gone now. I just thought you ought to know. He's a helluva guy. Don't blame him..." I pointed to the bookshelf on the wall. Alex's fedora was resting there.

The others fell quiet and reached out to touch me or offer their support. But what could anyone say? 

Some times love just isn't meant to be.  

Wake up the dawn and ask her why
A dreamer dreams she never dies
Wipe that tear away now from your eye
Slowly walking down the hall
Faster than a cannon ball
Where were you when we were getting high? 

Some day you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova in the sky

'Champagne Supernova' by Oasis