Make It Known

DELETED SCENE #4: "I Swear To God"

A/N: This bonus scene doesn't fit into the real plot of MIK.

***

I Swear To God

I've been searching for salvation in a bottle / no, I ain't got nothing left but misery

I've been down upon my knees trying to taste your memory / but you're gone and I swear to God it's killing me

I need your holy loving / I need your healing hands tonight / I need it all or nothing / show me the light

***

Alison picks a random bar that Friday night. She took one look at me the other day and determined that I was in serious need of some alcohol, and I definitely agreed with her.

No talking about boys, no thinking about boys. She tells me some hilarious stories about some mishaps a colleague of hers had at The Sun. She knows how to cheer me up, is always full of jokes and an endless stream of anecdotes. After a couple rounds of beer, I'm laughing so hard it almost comes out of my nose.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," a very familiar voice drawls. A low chuckle.

I turn, surprised. So much for avoiding men.

Rowley slides into the booth beside me, drapes an arm leisurely over the back of the seat above my shoulders. Alison's grey eyes widen, she sits up a little straighter and I watch her gaze travel over him not-so-subtly.

I roll my eyes, fighting back a smile. "Are you stalking me, Detective?"

"I was going to ask you the same, love."

And then he puts on his most charming smile, turning his attention across the table to my best friend, whose normally very, very tightly-wound panties have already fallen to the floor. "Dylan Rowley." He extends one of his large, calloused hands and she takes it, swallowing.

"Alison Wright." She blinks a couple times as Rowley's warm eyes travel over her leisurely in one of his signature tactics as an expert womanizer.

I try not to laugh. "Alison is my best friend," I introduce. "And Dylan is..."

"Trouble," she finishes for me, raising a delicate golden eyebrow. She's collected her wits from wherever they had momentarily disappeared to, and that usual skeptical, unfazed expression settles back across her face. Her stormy grey eyes fill with a stubborn challenge. "He's even more infuriating than you described, Melanie."

That earns her a brilliant, panty-melting smirk. "I'm quite sure that's not the full description she gave you, darling."

This is going to be fun. If anyone can handle Rowley's inescapable charm, it's Alison. She's brazen and brave and doesn't take crap from anyone, especially not from members of the male species.

"You're right." She shrugs. "I left out the part about how full of yourself she said you are."

And if his quiet, rough, masculine laugh makes her need some air conditioning, she does a good job of hiding it.

Dylan leans in towards her, lowering his voice to a dangerously seductive level. "Here's the thing, doll. Your clever friend here thinks that she can avoid the hard time I'm gonna give her if she distracts me by introducing me to someone very, very beautiful."

Alison flushes but keeps a straight face, resting onto her elbow and leaning in, too. "Is it working?"

I take a sip of my beer, watching them amusedly.