Disclaimer/Author's Notes: Life With Derek and any characters portrayed in this piece do not belong to me, with the exception of Cindy. With that out of the way, here is my small triple-drabble I'd written earlier to make myself feel better. Angsting Disney characters is good for the soul, folks! Note that this is not a sequel to The Superunknown; it is merely a "spin-off" of some sorts. Okay? Thank you. So, enjoy the drabbles. Reviews are lovely!


The girl in the bar said her name was Cindy and that she went to NYU, that her brother was a businessman who worked on Wall Street for some big New York City law firm her father single-handedly managed, that she owned her own house in New Hampshire and I was welcome anytime, that she was on this roadtrip with a couple of girlfriends and they all thought Mounties were even cuter in person.

Stevie Ray Vaughan was on the stereo and I wanted to ask this girl to dance, to feel her lithe body against my own, run my fingers through that strawberry blonde hair and forget about things for awhile. I wanted to forget why I was really here, why there were three empty bottles of beer on the bar in front of me, and why I'd not allowed myself to follow the line of her lowcut v-neck sweater down.

Eventually, forgetting wouldn't matter. Only the snowdrifts pilling up against the motorlodge window, and the clothes that littered the worn carpet floor, and the twelve messages Derek had sent me, as if an apology over the phone would make up for what he'd done to me.

I turned my cell off just as Cindy walked back into the room, thick with the smell of sweat and sex and cheap beer. She smiled softly and dressed quietly before sitting on the corner of the bed, looking down at her slender hands and red acrylic nails. And there was something about this girl that made me burn.

You wanna come back to New York with us, Sam, she asked, brows furrowed and hands fidgeting.

Sure, why not, I replied. Laced up my shoes, scratched my cheek and tossed that fucking ring of Derek's in the trash, right where it belonged.