This is a new one-shot fic that I entered in the forum competition. I hope you enjoy. Thanks to Mishie for encouraging me to post it here.

Disclaimer - I don't own any OC character

Because The Night

Kirsten had been told as a teenager that the friendships you make now will carry on throughout your life. However, the turbulent love affair she established with a certain person was one she cherished above all. He would sneak into her bedroom every other night where he would comfort her troubled heart. But whenever her parents got too close to finding them together, he immediately hid in the closet until it was safe to come out.

Now, as an adult, a mother and a wife, she sat at her office desk and thought back to him. Kirsten remembered how his cool fingers roamed through her hair and around her waist, how his tongue burned her mouth with his passion and how he fully intoxicated her body.

Their fiery relationship had simmered somewhat when she moved to Berkeley and started her life with Sandy Cohen. But with the recent turbulences in her life with the appearance of Rebecca Bloom and the almost affair with Carter Buckley, her old acquaintance was more than welcome. She thought back nostalgically to a time where their hungry passion was forbidden at her young age but her thoughts skipped ahead years to when they would secretly meet up at night when she lived in Berkeley. He was the only person there for her abortion and he was constantly by her side throughout her beloved mother's illness and death.

Then their relationship ended after an ultimatum from Sandy.

Until now.

Kirsten had brought him into her bedroom secretly where he would once again burn her throat with his infatuation and his undeniable essence would seep throughout her body. Their lips would crash together just like the waves outside and their bodies would become one as he overwhelmed her soul with fire. Then he would have to hide in the closet before Sandy caught them together. He would stay in that closet, hidden amongst her clothes, calling out to Kirsten without so much as saying a word. His voice would always end up reaching her whether she was at work, with Sandy or in sleep.

Looking at the seemingly perfect surroundings of her office, she sighed. The desk was mathematically placed by the window, the blue prints for future housing developments were haphazardly sprawled throughout the room and the clutter screamed at her and rage built up and stress escalated. Her thoughts bled into each other and one thought screamed while another whispered or tried to match intensity. She closed her eyes in an attempt to stop the chaos but it only made everything all the more stressful so Kirsten have up on any coherent thought and hurried out the door to go home.

Kirsten drove as quickly as she possibly could to her house without killing herself but she knew that if she didn't get home to him, she might as well be dead.

Pulling up in front of the house, Kirsten bolted through the front door and closed the gap between herself and the bedroom in record time where once there she took him hungrily to her mouth and drank from his lust that had been building up all day and they danced in the brothels of obsession.

"I needed you," she breathed, "so badly."

"God I needed you too," Kirsten heard him reply.

"I needed you at work . . . it would've made everything so much better. You could've made me hate it less as Carter is gone and . . . and I miss him."

"I'm sorry."

She dismissed his apology softly by shaking her head causing her halo of golden hair to float slightly.

"It doesn't matter now . . . he's gone . . . and you're here. You're here."

"That I am."

Their lips locked together again and his taste sent a tingle coursing through her body as a high sent her soaring to heights she had only ever experienced with him. Kirsten didn't think about her husband or her children but the only thing she was concerned with was the endless shadowy hole that had punctured her heart. An image of Sandy flashed before her eyes yet she ignored it and welcomed the burning sensation her old friend gave her over and over again until she was numb.

That was what she wanted.

"Let's go outside," he suggested as he took her by the hand and out into the cool night air.

It was when the sun had set and night had fallen that he loved the most, when they were alone; because the night belonged to them.

Kirsten looked at the horizon and saw the world beyond coalesce and she looked up at the stars that pulsed in all their neutral and innocent beauty as the cool breeze tickled her skin and sobered her senses. With his hands placed gently on her shoulders he settled tiny butterfly kisses upon her skin as they swayed in a continual pas de deux to the aphrodisiac that was the night and cricket song.

She smiled as she felt his hand slide around her waist, leaning back as she watched the moonlight reflect off the still water.

"Come on, let's sit you down."

He guided her to the deck chair where she quietly fell asleep with him naturally by her side on the grass where he settled himself but not before giving her a tender kiss on the forehead.

An hour later, Kirsten woke up in the cool night air to find herself alone in the backyard with only a half drunken bottle of vodka for company.

She had been overcome by Vodka.

That was his name.


Vodka wasn't just a burning liquid. To Kirsten, it was a person. His fingers would stroke her skin, his body would press against hers, his tongue swirled with hers and his essence would intoxicate her to the point of needing him more and more.

He was a lover.

A necessity.

An addiction.

She loved him and the night's belonged to them.