#drinking alone

“Now, for this to work you have to be… cooperative,” Annabelle had told him. “You need to seem… interested in me. Receptive to whatever I do.”

He’d leaned down to bridge the gap between them, and flashed her a predatory grin. “I think you already know I’m interested.”

Travis smirked at the memory of her blush. The evening at Frank and Darlene’s had definitely not gone as he’d expected.

“Everyone else needs to think you’re interested, too,” she’d explained. “Enough to make it impossible for me to just disappear.”

“What did you have in mind?”

This was not what Travis had expected, and the only thing he was currently interested in was finding the exit. “This isn’t going to work,” he muttered under his breath.

Annabelle leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind. “Sure it will, Sheriff. Trust me, this will work.” She gave him a quick peck on his cheek, and his body flushed with warmth.

“Stop that,” he grumbled.

He could feel her grin as she whispered into his ear, “No. Flirting was part of the plan, remember?”

Travis shifted in his chair, bringing his face dangerously close to hers. “Let me remind you I am a respected public figure in this town. My reputation - ,” his words were cut off as Annabelle closed the space between them, sliding her lips over his in a slow, sensual kiss.

“Your reputation is safe with me, Sheriff,” she said as she reluctantly pulled away. “Besides, it helps if people talk.”

Travis flushed. “Let’s just get this over with.” It was clear it would be a long night.

…………..

Annabelle hadn’t always felt comfortable singing in front of others, but when you’re a time traveler you learn to utilize whatever methods you can to keep a roof over your head and food on the table. Sean had been the first to recommend singing; it was something she excelled at, and with a little practice she was sure to overcome her stage fright.

It took a bit more than “a little practice”, but by now Annabelle was as comfortable on stage as she was off. Survival, it turned out, required a good performance, and over the years she had mastered that skill.

She had smiled down at Travis in all his sullen, ornery glory. “And what if you can’t perform?” He’d asked, draping himself in one of Darlene’s kitchen chairs.

“I can perform,” she assured him.

“Lotta people say that. You ever see So You Think You’re an Idol? That show is a train wreck.” He’d found another bottle of wine, and helped himself. He’d deduced Darlene and Frank were taking a very, very long walk.

“I can perform,” Annabelle repeated.

“If you say so,” he said, shrugging, and took another sip from his glass. “Hate for you to embarrass yourself, though. Josie Puller’s been the crowd favorite each week for the past five years, but if you’re so sure… .” He lifted the wine glass again, but Annabelle deftly pulled it out of his hand, and placed it back on the table.

“If it’s an audition you want, Sheriff,” she said, leaning in to meet his eyes, “why didn’t you just say so?”

Travis closed his eyes, and stifled a moan at the memory. Things like this did not happen to men like him. Then again, neither did werewolves and curses, so perhaps this was the universe trying to balance the scales just a touch.

“Which one is Josie Puller?” Annabelle asked, curling up behind him as she scanned the bar. Travis nodded towards the stage. A pretty middle-aged blonde with too much makeup and not enough clothes was holding the microphone. The first few notes of a country bop began, and Annabelle soon understood why Josie had the crowd wrapped around her finger. “I’m not doing that,” she said, eyes wide as Josie began gyrating to the music. Her voice was actually quite good, but she was overcompensating in other areas, and Annabelle couldn’t help but wonder if she did so out of confidence or lack thereof.

“Well, you’ll need to do something if you want to top that,” Travis replied, taking a swig of his beer as he watched Josie flip her hair over her shoulder and wink at the crowd. “I never did get that audition,” he grumbled.

Annabelle chuckled. Travis had made it very clear he was interested in… other things, but Darlene and Frank’s return had quickly squashed his plans. She laughed again, softer this time, and her fingers brushed against the back of his neck. “Poor baby,” she murmured, glancing back at the stage. Josie was almost done with her song, and she would be up next. Josie’s finale was an overly loud, off-key wail which was met with raucous applause. “Be back in a minute,” she said, standing.

Travis caught her hand tugging her back towards him so he could meet her eyes. She expected him to say something, but instead he just raised her hand to his mouth, placing a delicate kiss on the inside of her wrist. It shouldn’t have effected her so much, especially considering the atmosphere. They were surrounded by laughter, hooting and hollering, drunks, and rowdy folks who spoke too loudly, and swore too often. But the look in his dark eyes made her shiver; it reminded her of the way he’d looked at her when she’d still been living at the jail. It hadn’t been too long ago, but it felt like an eternity.

“C’mon, Travis,” a voice called from the crowd shattering the moment.

“Yeah, let ‘er sing!”

“Your mama know you got a new gal, Sheriff?”

Annabelle released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding as Travis tossed a scowl to the crowd. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, standing and readjusting his hold on her hand. “C’mon,” he muttered to her, tugging her through the throng until they were next to the stage. “Just… just do your best, okay?” He said, refusing to meet her eyes as he reluctantly let go of her hand. He paused for a moment, leaned in, and gave her a quick peck on her cheek before turning to go back to his seat. “Good luck.” The sentiment was not wasted on her, and she made a mental note to revisit this feeling later. But for now, she had a song to perform.

The song list had been an interesting one to peruse, and a glaring reminder she was not in her home universe. Thankfully, she’d found a few songs she was familiar with, and one in particular she felt would suit her voice. If things went as she’d planned this would also insure Jedadiah and Constance Hackett couldn’t up and disappear her, which was vital if she was going to help Sean and Travis with this werewolf problem.

The stage at Sammy’s wasn’t much – a small wooden stage high enough to give her a good view of the whole bar, the patrons, and one of the exits. She took all this in as the music began; Josie had chosen a fast-paced, loud anthem, so Annabelle intentionally chose a slower, more sensual song. She locked eyes with Travis who’d resumed his seat, legs crossed, beer in hand, gaze deadpan.

“Let me make one thing clear: you can buy me a beer, but you ain’t taking me home. No pick up lines, I came here tonight to shed a few tears of my own. But sitting there across the room I couldn’t help but notice you seem a little down on your luck, too. Yeah, my heart might be breakin’, but this seat ain’t taken, and you’ve got me thinkin’ we should be drinking alone!” An incline of Travis’ eyebrow was the only indication he was slightly impressed with her performance thus far. The crowd had grown quiet, and she closed her eyes, falling into the music.

*******

Travis knew she could sing, of course. He’d heard her in the jail with Sean, and while she was staying at his home. Neither of those songs sounded like this, though. Annabelle commanded the stage, her voice low, smooth, and strong reminding him of rich caramel and satin sheets. He closed his eyes at the thought, wishing he had those sheets on his bed, and the only “plan” either of them had to concoct was how soon they could get out of this bar and back to his house.

He scowled, opening his eyes. Stupid werewolves.

“Together, drowning the pain is better with somebody else who got problems. We ain’t gonna solve ‘em, but misery loves company! Tonight all I need is a stranger lips with a whiskey chaser, and a corner booth kiss that makes me forget that he’s gone. Oh, we should be drinking alone!”

She lifted the microphone, and his eyes widened a touch as began to stroll towards him. The crowd parted as she made her way towards him, and he realized this was his audition.

“Don’t know what she did to make you hurt like this, but I know just what to do.” She sauntered around his chair, dragging her fingers over his shoulders. “It starts with a bottle of good Reposado, and ends with a shooter or two.” She perched on his lap, crossing her legs as his arms snaked around her waist. “Tomorrow when the sun comes up tonight’s the night that never was, baby just forget my name,” she crooned, sliding off his lap, and backing away coyly. “Won’t be your one and only, but just ‘cause we’re lonely don’t mean that we should – we should be drinking alone!”

The crowd exploded around them in a burst of applause and cheers as she took the stage once more to finish her song, and Travis almost felt sorry for Josie. Almost.

“I’ll pretend that I care, baby pull up a chair. We’ll stay here ‘til they make us go home! We should be drinking alone.”

The song ended, and Annabelle grinned, winking at Travis as if to say, “I told you it would work.” She was right; the gossip in North Kill would be at an all-time high, and he would be right at the center of it. It would definitely make things harder on his family if they tried to get rid of Annabelle now. Maybe… He felt an odd tinge of something reminiscent to hope, and he couldn’t’ help but smile back at her. Maybe this all was going to work out. Maybe.

*******

Annabelle launched herself at him as soon as she was close enough to swing her arms around his neck, planting a solid kiss on his lips. “I told you I could perform,” she murmured.

Travis placed his hand at the back of her head, pulling her in for another kiss, and she couldn’t help but giggle. He pulled away, ignoring the cheers and catcalls, and gave her a stunning smile. “You weren’t too bad up there.”

She laughed, slapping his shoulder playfully. “Shut up, Sheriff.”

He grinned, grabbing her hand, and tugged her away from the crowd. “C’mon.” She allowed him to pull her towards the back of the bar where a dark, empty, and much quieter hallway led to the bathrooms, and the back exit.

“Where are we going?” She asked, giggling at how happy and determined he seemed.

“To get you a coffee and an apple fritter,” he teased. “Or go make out in my car. Whichever sounds better to you.” He whirled, pressing her up against the wall with a kiss. He smiled against her mouth, pulling back to look at her, running a hand over her hair then coming to gently cup her cheek. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

She smiled; his happiness was contagious. “I like you happy, Sheriff. It suits you.” He smiled, and he seemed softer now, more gentle. It really did suit him.

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips before pulling away. “C’mon. Let’s go get that fritter.” They were halfway down the hall when the back door opened, and a mountain of a man stepped through the back door.

Travis stopped so suddenly Annabelle collided with him. “Bobby,” he said softly, devoid of all their previous joy and humor.

Bobby had the grace to look ashamed of himself, casting his eyes low. “I’m real sorry, Travis.”

Annabelle could feel Travis grow tense, and he cast a quick glance back her way. “Go back to the bar. Stay on the stage. Stay….” Annabelle frowned as his face fell, a look of total defeat covering his features. She whirled on her heel to see what he saw, and two men stood blocking their exit. “Chris. Caleb. Don’t do this,” he said firmly.