Rather than call for a car, they just took two cabs back to the hotel. Ellie obviously was trying to get Noah, Ned and herself into one cab, but Ned grabbed Chiara's coat and helped her into it inside the pub, and managed to take so long over it that they were last two out.

"It's fine, we'll grab the next one," he called cheerfully, waving at the Penningtons as their cab pulled away from the curb. He turned to Chiara as they stood on the chilly sidewalk and smiled, grabbing her hand.

"Alone at last," he quipped, rubbing her knuckles.

Chiara smiled back at him and was getting ready to say something when Ned was approached by a bunch of girls who wanted pictures. He immediately dropped Chiara's hand and obliged them, posing with each girl and chatting with them for a few minutes.

"Sorry about that," he said when they were finally in a taxi.

"Please, it's your job," she replied with an airy wave of her hand.

"So, what's going on with you and Drew?" he asked, leaning forward so he could see her face clearly. "I sort of thought after the mess last night that the last thing you'd be feeling toward him is friendly."

Chiara sighed. "We've decided to try to be friends, if that doesn't sound too silly," she finally said.

Ned shook his head. "No, not silly. But you two definitely looked more than friendly when you were out there dancing earlier, if I may say."

"Well, like I told Mara last night, Ellie really likes me, and she wants us to be really good friends, probably. So we're trying extra hard to show her that we are, that's all."

"So you're lying to her." Ned's face was serious, all traces of his earlier grin gone.

"No, not exactly. She just wants us to be close, so while she's here we're acting like we're close." She searched Ned's face for signs of understanding. "We're not going to be snogging all over the place or sending out wedding invitations or anything--"

"But still, you're leading her on, you have to admit." Ned's voice was gentle, but firm.

"I thought you'd understand, Ned. He's your friend. Drew doesn't want her to know that whatever might have happened between us probably isn't going to happen now, because then she'll want to know why, and last night's whole, horrid mess will have to come out, including the truth about your eye and everything, so--" Chiara shrugged. "We thought this would be easier."

"Easier for whom?"

"Well, for her, of course." Chiara hadn't meant for her voice to come out sounding quite so forlorn.

"And I noticed you said 'probably isn't going to happen'?" Ned inflected his words like. question. "Does that mean that, after what he did, the way he treated you yesterday, you still think you might pursue things with him?"

Chiara ran her words back in her head.

Fuck.

She looked out the window at the bright lights of night time London as they slid by. She finally shrugged again. "No, I don't think so," she finally said, her voice low with defeat.

"And I noticed that this time you said you don't 'think' so."

Fuck fuck.

"You need to stop paying such close attention to what I say, Ned Hunter."

"And you need to stop dropping qualifiers in your speech, Chiara Cavuto."

"He's not interested in me, anyway, like I said yesterday. I can't even count the number of times I heard him say 'don't fuck around with the help.' Well, that's me, right? I'm 'the help,' so--" she looked at Ned and paused.

"Those are Gary's words, not Drew's," he said, his voice soft.

"And speaking of Gars, that woman went into labor, she's having the baby right now," Ned told her. "Gary got on a chartered jet a couple of hours ago. He's going to be a dad." Ned shook his head in disbelief.

"I feel sorry for the baby," Chiara said.

"Gars is a good bloke," Ned said. "He gets into trouble sometimes, but he's got a good heart."

They arrived at the hotel and went up to Chiara's suite together. Drew was there, with his mother and brother, and Chiara could tell he was curious about what Chiara and Ned had been doing during their time together.

Well, let him wonder.

"I'm really tired, you guys mind if I go to bed early?" She looked around at everyone.

"Of course not, love, you go take a long bath and get tucked into bed," Ellie suggested.

Chiara nodded and waved good night as she shut the door to her room.

Chiara took her advice and drew herself a hot bath, then decided to spoil herself and threw in a bunch of the oils and salts that the hotel provided. On a whim, she opened the mini fridge, and found a bottle of white wine and opened it, deciding to just throw caution to the wind. It was like sinking into a little bit of heaven to lower herself into the oversized tub with the swirling jets. She didn't even know how long she sat in there after she washed her hair and put it up in a bun. She took small sips of the chilled white wine, pouring herself another glass, then another, getting pleasantly squiffy, all alone in the tub.

By the time she pulled the plug, she had nearly finished the bottle, and was slightly off balance as she stepped out of the tub. She grabbed the towel rack for a moment, making sure she wouldn't fall, before grabbing the fluffy towel and drying herself.

She unpinned her hair and brushed it out. It was still damp, but closer to dry than wet, because she'd sat in the tub for so long. She wandered out to her bed, where she'd laid out her pajamas, and carefully pulled them on.

There was no noise from the common area of the suite beyond her closed door, so everyone must've gone to sleep. She thought about the bowl of fruit that was sitting out on the low table, and suddenly had a craving for one of the clementines in the bowl. They were the easy to peel kind with no seeds from Japan, and were her favorites of all the varieties of mandarins, and she decided that she wouldn't be able to sleep if she didn't have one.

Or two or three.

She carefully opened her door and stepped out into the lounge, knowing that she was more than a little drunk, and trying extra hard not to make any noise. She noticed that someone had left the telly on, and looked around the darkened room for the remote so she could turn it off.

She nearly screamed when she leaned over the back of the sofa and saw Drew, lying stretched out on it, remote in his hand, watching the TV.

"Oh shit!" she hissed. She took a huge step backwards and nearly fell, pinwheeling her arms for balance.

Drew's head popped up, hair going every which way as he stared at her, eyes wide.

"Jesus, CC, what the fuck are you doing?" he asked in a loud whisper.

Chiara, who managed to keep her feet just barely, crossed her arms across her front. "I came out to get some tangerines," she whispered with what she hoped was quiet dignity. "I saw the telly was on and I was going to turn it off before getting some from the bowl and going back to my room with them. I didn't know you were here."

"I started watching this movie, and reckoned I'd just finish it here," Drew explained. "Sorry I frightened you."

"I'm fine." Chiara grabbed some fruit from the bowl. "Well, good night, then."

"Good night."

She walked back to her room, trying to be quiet and look normal and sober. All went well until she stumbled on nothing and dropped her mandarins all over the floor.

She tried to pick them up, but for some reason she couldn't seem to quite manage. They kept rolling around on the floor, long after they should've stopped moving.

Drew came to help her, and deposited them in her hands.

He leaned in and stared carefully at her.

"CC, are you pissed?" he finally asked.

"What? No, of course not," Chiara answered, drawing herself up to her full height and dropping her tangerines again.

Fuck.

Drew laughed. "Bollocks," he answered. "Go in your room and get in bed or whatever, and I'll bring you the Satsumas, how's that sound?"

"You'll bring me the what?"

"Satsumas. That's what this variety of tangerine is called," he explained.

"Oh." Chiara nodded as if that made perfect sense. "I knew that."

"Course you did." Drew laughed. "Now go."

Chiara went and got into bed by the light of the one lamp that was lit. God, this bed was comfortable. And the duvet was so fluffy.

Drew came in with the tangerines and handed them to her, one at a time.

She reached for them eagerly, but couldn't manage to peel them, even though, as she'd noticed, they were the easy to peel variety.

"Dear god, give them here," Drew said with a laugh. He quickly and efficiently peeled one and handed it to her in pieces, and she quickly began putting the pieces in her mouth.

"Mm, oh my god, Drew, these are the besht thing I've ever eaten," she moaned.

"I think you're being a bit hyperbolic because you're pissed," Drew said with another laugh.

"No, honesht," she insisted. "Here, try it."

She put a wedge in his mouth.

"You're right, it is pretty good," he agreed. He peeled another one for himself, though Chiara took half of it out of his hand and ate it.

"Hey, that was for me," he protested.

"No, they were all supposed to be for me, remember?" she retorted.

He peeled the last one and gave her half, putting the other half in his mouth all at once.

Chiara quickly ate her half, looked at Drew, then leaned forward and kissed him, opening his mouth and sucking what was left of the tangerine into her mouth.

Her mouth was sweet and wet and tasted like tangerines and wine to Drew.

Oh god, did she taste good.

He chased her mouth with this, extending the kiss, making it last, pressing her head back into the pillow. He planted his hands on either side of her head and moved his lips so he could really taste her, loving the softness of her mouth, the sounds she made.

When at last he sat up so he could look at her, her lips were noticeably swollen, her eyes bright and starry. Her chest heaved up and down as she worked for breath. And she smelled amazing.

She reached with her chin, opening her mouth a little, and he knew she wanted him to kiss her again.

There was nothing in the world he could do but kiss her once more.

He leaned down and his hands found the soft flesh of her waist, and the gentle indentation of her navel, and god, it was heaven to lie down next to her and pull her into his arms.

She was making small sounds of happiness as she pressed into him, and he could feel her yielding to him. She lifted her leg over his hip, and because she was in her pajamas, he could feel her sex pressing into him, her pubic bone hard against him.

Oh god.

He reached over his head and pulled his shirt off, and thank Christ he had a condom in his pocket tonight, not like the other time--

Chiara laughed, a soft giggle into his mouth.

He moved so his lips were pressed into the soft, fragrant hollow of her throat, and wow, had anything ever smelled so good?

She was giggling still. "That ticklesh," she murmured..

She tried to unbutton her pajama top, but couldn't manage to work the tiny buttons.

"You're going to have to do it, Drew," she slurred.

And finally, her lack of coordination, her laughing and slurring worked their way into his brain.

"CC? Chiara?"

"Yesh?"

This time Drew smiled. "Uh, how much have you had to drink?"

"Mm, most of a bottle of wine? I think? While I was in the baths? Maybe?"

Drew sighed and lay back on the bed.

"Why? Don't you like pisshed girls? I mean pissed girls?"

"I love both pisshed and pissed girls, but not for shagging, okay?" Drew finally answered. He sat up, shaking his head like a wet dog.

Chiara, too, sat up and lunged at him.

"No, CC, no, we can't do this tonight," Drew said regretfully. "Please stop, yeah?"

As an extra precaution, he got out of the bed. He carefully gathered the peels and put them in the trash, and got Chiara sorted out as best he could.

She didn't fight him much, though she did whine a little at first. "Where you going alluvasudden?"

"Shh, just lie down, yeah?"

He went in her bathroom and found some paracetamol, laughing at the associations it had for him and when they'd first met. He grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge and put both on the table next to her bed. He noticed that she'd already closed her eyes.

He leaned in, kissed her forehead, and quietly closed the door on his way out.