Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this story. They all belong to their respected owners.

This had been posted on tradingxyesterday when I lost my account info, but it's on here now.

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I saw you sliding out the bar.
I saw you slipping out the back door, baby.
Don't even try and find a line this time, it's fine.
Darling, you're still divine.

This was the last place Warren ever expected Layla to end up working. Sure, they were more than just a bar, but it was a bar. Layla was too bubbly and...clean to work at a bar. But she did anyway, to which he wasn't going to complain. He came here often enough, and the place was fine. Small, and it had food, plus a certain twenty-one year old hippie.

She saw him come in. All tall and dark and...stunning. She had never been able to get over that. How could she think Warren was anything but a friend? Sure, there was that fleeting moment her heart fluttered when she saw him in a tux at the homecoming dance to which she made a fool of herself by asking him if he wanted a cheese cube. Oh that was one thing she wanted to forget. He...he was who she wanted to forget. Not that she didn't mind having him around, he was just a temptation she didn't need.

Layla always left when he came into the bar. At first, he would follow her and catch her before she got to the back door, but as he noticed she always did it, he just continued to sit and let her leave. Besides, he liked to watch her walk in that flustered way.

You don't love me at all, but don't think that it bothers me at all.
You're a bad-hearted boy-trap, babydoll, but you're.
You're so damn hot.

She had no idea what a tease she'd been all these years. Warren mulled the thought over as he swished around a beer and munched on some fries. She'd broken up with Will after graduation. How she had stayed with the same thick-headed goof for four years was beyond him. They were still friends aparently.

Which would normally leave an opening for a certain best friend to slip in and comfort said red-head hippie. But what also came to mind was the code of friends: the whole don't date your friend's exes or whatever that shit was. But hey, it didn't mean he couldn't look, did it? And that he did.

So now you're headed to your car.
You say it's dinner with your sister, sweetie.
But darling look at how you're dressed.
Your best suggests another kind of guest.

It was one of those days where Layla looked particularly sexy in a short skirt, boots and halter-top. Was she trying to tease him into madness? He couldn't stand it. She stayed a few minutes longer than usual after she saw him. He wondered if she'd finally changed her mind. He didn't know why she always left when he came in; he used to be the one who'd listen when she talked. Not that he always paid attention, but hey, he was guy. It wasn't his fault.

He followed her outside this time. Calling to her when she got to her car. He asked where she was going in a non-chalent way, to which she replied quickly she was going to see her older sister. He raised his eye brows at her clothes. She hesitated between staying or getting in the car for a few moments before yanking open the door and driving away, leaving Warren to shake his head.

You don't love me at all, but don't think that it bothers me at all.
You're a bad-hearted boy-trap, babydoll, but you're.
You're so damn hot.

So maybe he did something he didn't know of. He was often confused when it came to the minds of women anyway. He had a few years of experience and still didn't understand them. Layla knew that he went to the bar all the time after work and yet she got a job there? And she was trying to avoid him at the same time. Or maybe he was mixing signals? Walking back inside, he was as confused as could be.

So who's this other guy you've got?
Which other rubes are riding hot-shot, sugar?
I could have swore you said before, "No more, for sure."
What'd I believe you for?

Sitting at the bar once again, he ordered another beer. It always made things easier for him to think with some alcohol running through his veins. The way she was dressed...the way she was flustered and left so quickly. Was she scared of him? Nah, he had never hurt her, although he had been seen as pretty angry in front of her before. Was that it? No...that still didn't click with the clothes.

Ah...another guy. Someone besides Stronghold? It seemed almost strange. Although, now that he thought of it, Layla hadn't even gone on a date with anyone else since she graduated. Until now it seemed. Whoever the guy was...he had no clue but he wasn't too sure that he wanted to know. He didn't need to be thought of being the jealous friend; even if he was.

You don't love me at all, but don't think that it bothers me at all.
You're a bad-hearted boy-trap, babydoll, but you're.
You're so damn hot.

Her cheeks were rosy when he walked into the bar the next day. Their eyes met from across the room and she looked down at the boxes she was piling. Warren shook his head and sat down, arms crossed on the worn wood and head down as usual. A familiar bubbly voice startled him to look up. "Want something, Warren?" she asked, looking at him from the other side of the bar.

"Uh...beer? Whatever you have cold," he added in a more normal voice. His first words sounded high pitched and startled. She smiled and walked down the bar. She was wearing tight jeans today and he nearly had to bite down on his hand when she leaned over to grab him a beer from one of the lower freezers. When she walked back and popped the top off the bottle, he tried to resume his normal face but was afraid that he failed. He just couldn't help it.

Tease or not. Best friend or not. Best friend's ex or not, Layla was just too damn hot.

A/N: HA! I actually like this Sky High fic. It's cute and I think I got Warren's point of view pretty well. Just a little something I thought of when I heard the song. It was just too Warren/Layla to pass up.