Disclaimer: If I owned Black Books, it would still be running.*

AN: This is going to be part of a series, if you like it, so you might want to put me on Author Alert, or I'll PM you when new bits are up.


Red is the colour in his glass. It is the colour of love and passion, I murmur drunkenly, but he doesn't catch that.

He's had a few as well, I suppose. He lights his cigarette, sixth one tonight if you asked me, and orange glows at the tip.

Almost red, I think. Red is all I can think about tonight for some reason.


Red is angry. But neither of us are. Red is dangerous. So's drinking like this, but that's not what it is.

Red is passionate. Passion for wine? That wouldn't make much sense. Hell, I don't make much sense right now.

What's the other one?

Oh, right. Love. Not worth thinking about, that. Never going to happen.

He's looking at me.

Oh, s***. I've been thinking out loud. I mean talking. Whatever, he's heard me.

Please be too drunk, I plead in my mind. Please don't realise.

He hears that as well, and he looks at me humorously.

"Why," he starts in a drunken voice, "wouldn't it happen?"

I'm not sure, all of a sudden, and I don't know if it's the alcohol or the way he's leaning closer that has me flustered.

"By the way, it's the seventh cigarette," he tells me, and then it does happen, and oh, does it happen.

When I leave him in the morning, to the mercy of a hangover and a night he absolutely cannot remember, I realise.

My dress is red.

And then:

My shoes are back at the shop.


AN:* And I also would have seen a complete episode of it. I didn't want to mention that at the start in case you clicked off. Don't worry, I've read nearly all the fanfics, most of the episode synopsis thingies, countless quotes pages, AND I've watched a load of short clips.

Also, I ran this by my fanatic friend before I posted it.