Days Of Us

13 -Day The Fourteenth-

-Day The Fourteenth-

Monday, week 6

It had been over a week since Ray had seen Lydia and he was beginning to wonder if he should have been worried. He had been back at work for exactly a week that day and had been telling himself that he hadn't seen her because of that. Every coffee break, he had sat on the edge of the scaffolding, looking down at the crowd and waiting for her red hair to pass by his eyes. It never did, though.

She was probably on her holidays, he convinced himself. He wasn't sure if he quite believed himself because he found himself walking into Dennis' Bar on that evening after work. He wasn't expecting to see her standing behind the bar, in the flesh, but that's exactly the scene that he saw in front of himself.

Lydia flicked her eyes up to him, away from the glass that she was pouring drink into, and flicked them back down just as quickly. Ray walked to the end of the counter and sat on his usual stool, watching Lydia. It was as if she was trying to look at anything but him. She looked at the clock behind him, she looked at the booth behind him, she looked at the three women sat at the counter, she looked at the drinks- but she didn't look at Ray.

"Hey, Lydia," he called to her, giving her no choice but to look at him. Ray always liked to think that he could read people's emotions but with Lydia, everything was difficult, including that.

"Can I get you a drink?" She asked, her voice steady and emotionless.

Ray frowned. "I'm not here for a drink."

"You're gonna have to get-"

"Lydia. What's going on?"

She stepped back to the wall, pursing her lips. "Nothing's going on. I'm dandy," she said blandly, staring at him with a cold look on her face.

"You're lying."

"No shit, Sherlock," she snapped, then she closed her eyes, cursing herself quietly.

"Lydia, what's the problem?" He asked her. He wasn't really sure what was going on and he knew that it would be so much easier if she just told him straight out what was going on.

"We almost slept together- that's the problem," she hissed.

"I wouldn't say almost-"

"The point is," she cut in impatiently, "that there's a possibility it could have happened. I don't like possibilities."

"There was no possibility- don't you trust me?"

"I don't trust myself, Ray, and I hardly know you well enough to trust you."

"You were drunk," he told her, "and of course you can trust me."

"What if I hadn't been drunk? Would it have happened? Would you have slept with me?" She said it accusingly, a frown painting her features.

"How does that matter?" He asked confusedly.

"Would you?" She repeated, gritting her teeth.

Ray shrugged, scratching his head awkwardly. "I don't know... maybe."

She folded her arms over her chest with a scowl. "Ray, this isn't working."

"What isn't working?" Ray asked, confused again. He really didn't know what she was making a big deal out of. So, he found her attractive- but why wouldn't he? So, she didn't want to sleep with him- but why was that such a problem?

"This," she said in frustration, gesturing between the two of them. "I don't think we should be friends- we shouldn't be anything."

"Why not?"

"It just doesn't work. Eventually, there's going to be a repeat of last Saturday night and neither of us will stop it."

"Lydia, it doesn't have to-"

"We can't-"

"Just listen to me," he cut in. "You're talking about it like it has to happen but it doesn't. We can just be friends, not... whatever you think."

"It's not that easy. You can't just make yourself not want someone."

"But what you can do is ignore it in favour of your friendship. Unless, y'know," he said with a smirk, "you just can't keep your hands off of me."

"Oh, piss off, Ray," she snapped, turning. Ray jumped and grabbed her arm to stop her. She stopped, looking down at his hand distastefully and he immediately dropped it.

"I'm being serious. Be my friend, please," Ray was vaguely aware of the slight desperation in his voice but he did nothing to stop it.

She hesitated, though her face softened slightly. She pursed her lips in thought. "I'm not going to your house any more."

"Okay," Ray nodded.

"And you have to stop coming here all the time," she added.

"Deal."

She frowned at him with something akin to confusion on her face. She was about to say something when a crowd of ten or so men walked in the door, all of them rowdily walking towards the bar counter.

Ray stood up, knowing that she would have to continue at her job then. "Meet me at Juice at two on Wednesday, before you go to work," he told her, smiling.

"Ray-" she started, before being interrupted by Ray as he walked away from her.

"Purely innocent," he called, grinning as he walked out the door. He was pretty sure that he had handled that situation well, or as well as he could. Lydia was no more than a friend then but at least she was still in his life.