"Oh hell! Is that the time?" Fiona exclaimed, looking first at her watch and then at the clock on the wall. "Damn!"
"What time's your bus?" Craig enquired.
Fiona laughed. "About ten minutes ago," she replied with a resigned shrug. "Oh well, never mind. I guess I can have some more wine now and I can worry about a taxi when we're finally too tired to keep talking."
Craig shook his head. "No need wasting money on a taxi. It'll take me two minutes to make up the bed in the spare room."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I am. What's more, I'm sure you'll be glad to know that my spare bed is a hell of a lot comfier than the couch you used to crash on at my old place."
Fiona smiled. "Thanks," she said, "And, actually, that old sofa wasn't that uncomfortable. I've slept on a lot worse."
Craig laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure you have. The tent at T in the park all those years ago does spring to mind for some reason." Fiona smiled at the memory. "Now," Craig continued, "Excuse me for a couple of minutes while I go and prepare your quarters."
"Do you want a hand?" Fiona asked.
"Don't be silly," Craig replied, "Pour yourself another glass, sit back and relax." He smiled. "Oh, and you can pour me one too while you're at it," he added.
Fiona did just that. All in all, she'd had a very nice evening catching up with Craig after all these years and, perversely, she was actually quite glad that she had missed her bus as it meant the evening didn't have to come to an abrupt end. It was almost as if the clock had been rolled back fifteen or so years to when they had been friends and later flatmates at University and had frequently had drink fuelled conversations that had gone on until the small hours of the morning.
They had been younger then, though. Quite a bit younger, Fiona thought a little ruefully to herself. Despite that, however, as the evening had progressed, the years had slipped away, taking with them all of the cares, concerns and responsibilities that had accumulated and they were once again, Craig and Fiona, putting the world to rights over a few too many drinks.
Craig returned a few minutes later. "All done," he said, "There's fresh towels at the end of the bed and I've dug out an old t-shirt that you can use as a night-dress, assuming you wear one."
Fiona smiled. "You're too kind," she said, "How can I ever repay you?"
Craig thought for a moment. "Hmm, well, I suspect it's probably best that I don't answer that," he replied.
"Oh? And why's that?" Fiona enquired.
Craig paused again. "Well," he said at last, "In my less than sober state, I may just, inadvertently mind you, make some inappropriate remark relating to the fact that I'm a man and you're a woman that would probably earn me a well deserved slap across the cheeks and ruin what had otherwise been a very nice evening."
"Craig Williamson!" Fiona exclaimed with mock indignation, smiling to take the sting out of her words, "Is that you coming on to me?"
"What would you do if it was?" he asked.
Fiona laughed. "I'd tell you that you've had too much to drink and that you should sit down and then we can get back to righting all the wrongs in this world with what's left of the wine."
"Fair enough, Fi," Craig said, sitting down on the sofa next to her and picking up his glass, "But I don't think we have nearly enough wine left for that."
"That's probably true," Fiona agreed, clinking her glass against Craig's, "But we should probably do what we can."
It was about 2am when, with a yawn, Craig announced, "I don't know about you, Fi, but I'm done in and I'm pretty sure I can hear my bed calling me."
"Yeah. Me too, I guess," Fiona agreed.
Reaching the doors of their respective bedrooms, Craig said, "Thanks for a really nice evening, Fi. Goodnight."
Fiona kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Goodnight, Craig," she replied.
Lying in bed in the dark, Fiona reflected on the conversation from earlier. Had Craig been serious when he'd made what seemed to be a pass at her, she wondered, or had he just been joking, having had too much to drink? Fiona couldn't decide. Their friendship had always contained a certain amount of bantering innuendo, but that was always what it had been; nothing more. Fiona conceded that that had been down to circumstance as much as anything else. For almost as long as they had known each other, one or other of them had been involved with someone else. Casting her mind back, Fiona realised that this was probably the first time in all the years they had known each other that they had both been single. What was more, they were both single and both under the same roof and that had definitely never happened before.
Maybe if she hadn't had as much to drink, Fiona wouldn't have made the decision she did. Rising from her bed, she made her way quietly through to the other room.
"What the... Oh. Um... Fi, what are you doing?" Craig asked as Fiona pulled back the covers and climbed into bed beside him.
"I'm getting into your bed," Fiona replied with aplomb.
"I, uh, can see that, Fi," Craig replied, "What I meant was why?"
Pausing only to slip out of the over-sized t-shirt she'd been wearing, Fiona replied, "Well, it's kind of like you said. I'm a woman, you're a man, and now we're in bed together. You don't mind do you?"
"Um, well, no, I guess not," Craig replied. "I mean if it's what you want, then you're very welcome."
"That's settled then," Fiona declared, curling up next to Craig. "I must say, it feels good to be snuggled up close to you like this. We really should have done this before," she said then kissed him.
"I would have jumped at the chance, Fi," Craig replied, "But, there again, I always assumed you weren't interested. If I had known..."
"Oh, I was always interested," Fiona interrupted, "But at least one of us was always involved with someone else, and I simply don't go there."
