Friday, March 15th, 2013 - Late Evening

And just like he'd said he'd be, he was in some little dive, right on the border of where the city started to get kind of sketchy. He must have changed clothes at some point, because Ben usually won't go to work, not even on Friday, in jeans and a tee, but that's what he's wearing now -- then again, it's not Ben, because Ben also wouldn't be leaned up against the bar with some brunette floozy draped against his side. Wouldn't be waving, over-emphatically (but still goodnatured, because he's laughing, too openly), to the bartender, signalling to mix the girl another of whatever it was she had. Ben probably wouldn't be working through an entire bottle of bourbon on his own, either. Jackie must know full well, though, even just from the brief text messages exchanged earlier, that this isn't Ben at all.

Jackie was, rather unfortunately, mastering the art of knowing when she was dealing with Harry rather than Ben. Not picking up Adam was one thing, not returning her text messages for so long when she was worried was another. But once he replied in that broken English? Spelling so bad that even Jackie, who was by no means a text master, had to cringe? Yep, it was going to be one of those nights. She was ready for it the moment she stepped through the door. Jeans, boots, and a shirt that said "Kiss My Country A*s" beneath her tried and true brown leather jacket. Hell, if she was going to be at bars for the evening she might as well enjoy it. That was how she viewed it all, fun while babysitting a grown man. That might explain the small video camera that was in her hand held at her side, turned off for now at least.

"Haaaarry." A call across the room as she approached. "I can't believe y'started the party without me. You said I was your favorite. How could y'? I'm hurt!" But she manages a laugh even though she's eyeballing daggers at the brunette from head to toe. "Kind of you to keep him company for me considerin' I was runnin' late, but you can move along now." This was a demand, not a suggestion. The bartender placed the drink down in front of the trio and Jackie's smile widened. "Drink's still on us though. Consider it a job well done."

The brunette doesn't even realize at first that Jackie's talking to the man she's with, but eventually his wide-eyed attempt (and failure -- the stupidly easy grin didn't help) at a 'who, me?' look got her to look in Jackie's direction, figuring out quickly that the situation wasn't as advertised. "What, you didn't tell me... ugh!" She shoves Harry as she straightens out of her lean against him, picks up the drink, looks, for one second, like she's going to throw it at him, but instead she just makes another disgusted sound and her heels click-click-carry her away.

Harry, for his part, looks a little hurt (but laughably so, considering it's mild, and he'd brought it on himself, besides), and he even tries to stop the girl from leaving with a quick 'heyheyhey' -- but he knows it's futile. When Jackie's around, he never ends up getting any action. Dramatic, he slumps against the bar again, giving the blonde another wide-eyed look, this one sort of pleading. "Why'd y'hafta scare her off?" And all at once his expression shifts, the grin stupid-sly. "What, you jealous? I knew you had a thing for me. Hey, hey--" The last, to the bartender. "Get her something." Pointing, unnecessarily, at Jackie.

Jackie's expression never faltered while it took those few extra moments for the brunette to piece it all together. It would make sense soon. Three... Two... And there it was, the sweet sound of retreating heels. Even better was that the brunette was smart enough to not waste her booze by tossing it at Harry. Jackie took up a lean against the counter and lifted the camera, poking at buttons while Harry went on about his theories of her being jealous. "I think she was an undercover cop." A knowing sidelong look tossed his way, her tone matter-of-fact. "I'm a bartender. I can pick 'em out easy. They're always trying to pop guys in the bar for one reason or another. You should be thankin' me." A glance was cast over her shoulder to the bartender. "Badsider, please an' thank you." Then back to Harry with a low whistle. "Thanks for springin' for the drink, big spender. You sure you got this? I could always grab this round if you're low on cash? Probably broke tonight, right?"

He's actually about to ask about the camera -- and from the look on his face, whatever he's about to say about it probably comes with a decent chance of getting slapped -- but he's distracted by her assessment of the girl she'd scared off. "Really?" Eyes wide, he twists to try to catch sight of the girl again; he turns a little too far, and he nearly looses his balance, stumbling before catching at the edge of the bar, laughing when he turns toward Jackie again. "She wouldn't have anything to bust me on. Not right now!"

Cheerful, he picks up his bottle to take a swig, and that's about when she's poking him about money. "Well, that wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me, would it?" He's slipping his wallet -- Ben's wallet, of course -- out of his jacket pocket, pulling several bills from the billfold to set down on the counter for the bartender. One nice thing about Harry was that he was an extremely good tipper. It helped that the money he spent wasn't his, and there weren't any consequences he suffered from blowing the money he did find on whatever it was he wanted. "So, hey--" Finally, his attention bounces to the camera again. "How many do I gotta buy you before we can put that thing to use?" The look he gives her is a clumsy attempt at sly and coy, and before long he's laughing, the maybe-infectious kind.

"Really." Without missing a beat as his inquiry about Officer Brunette. There were so many times when Jackie felt slightly inferior to those around her because she wasn't always the brightest bulb. But with Harry? She constantly felt like the goddamn sun. Especially when he was almost falling over like that. Not right now, he says! Oh good, she found him just in time. No laws had been broken... yet. And that's what she wanted with all of her poking and prodding about money. Harry made it too easy sometimes. Jackie gave a low whistle when he presented Ben's wallet. "Look at you, all set for the night." She waited for him to pay the bartender before reaching out to snag the wallet from him and quickly tuck it into her back pocket. Maybe he would forget about it if she started talking about the camera loudly enough. She's even smiling, too. Harry loves smiling. "Well, you an' I had so much fun last time that I thought it would be cool for us to record our night out on the town. Somethin' we can look back on an' laaaaugh." Something she can show Ben in his moments of doubt and say seeeeee. The camera was lifted, pointed in his direction, the red record light on. "Say somethin' sweet to the camera, Harry."

"F*cking sh*t up!" Jackie might be rolling her eyes, but Harry's as excitable as ever. "It's good, it's good! Promise, pinky swear." He's chatty on the way, but it's about stupid things, inconsequential -- girls, very, very thinly veiled references to drugs, the weather. It's not until they get to the docks -- the somewhat regular hide-and-seek grounds for Ben's poor car -- that Harry asks Jackie an even somewhat serious question. "So, hey, what did you have planned for the night?" It's a bit of a struggle to get out of the car without swaying so badly that he falls, but he manages. Even remembers to take the bottle with him, though it's getting close to the point of being finished.

Jackie has no problem keeping up in the conversation with Harry and it almost sounds like she's relaxing somewhat. It helps he already realizes that while he can ramble on about girls all he wants, picking them up wasn't going to be an option tonight. That was always her biggest worry when it came to Harry coming out to play and with that out of the way it felt as if she could actually take a breath and not keep him on such a short leash. Maybe. The engine is killed and Jackie's furrowing her brows at Harry's oh-so-serious question. "Well, I was gonna pick up chicks, do blow, and down a bottle of tequila, but since those were your plans I feel like I'm copyin'." A dry laugh, at least she amused herself. The camera was picked up and she slid out of the car making sure to lock the doors behind her and stow the keys in her pocket. The last thing she wanted to do was join the Lose Ben's Car At The Docks Club. The record button was pressed, a panning view of the docks and the lens settled on the trailing Harry. "So, what in the hell does someone do at the docks for fun?"

He actually gasps. "Those were your plans too? No sh*t -- we're, like, meant to be!" Sarcasm, apparently, is usually completely lost on him. It helps that Jackie's question distracts him too. "Hookers?" But he laughs, glances over at her; when he realizes that she's recording again, he makes a lewd little gesture with his tongue, but then he's grinning. "Joking. The hookers here are nasty, like if you look at them you might catch something nasty." He takes a few more steps, slowing his pace, mostly so he can chug down the remainder of his bourbon. A deeper breath when the bottle's finished off, and he shakes his head a little, quickly, fighting off the haze before laughing again. "So..." He leans his weight back, shifts it all forward when he pitches the empty bottle into a high arc into the air, pausing until he hears the satisfying shatter of glass. "Like I said. Find sh*t to break." And just to be prepared for when he finds something, he leans over, grabs up a piece of wood -- it's solid, looks like it was part of a railing or bannister at some point in time.

She had some sort of stock smarta*s answer ready to go about how they were meant to be, but his answer of 'hookers' gets all of her attention. "Oh, groooooss!" The word is dragged out and the camera bounces violently, probably because Jackie is squirming in an attempt to get rid of the heebie jeebies she just got. "That was not funny. I haven't even touched anythin' here an' I feel like I need an hour long shower. Mind you, I go muddin' for fun so it's not like dirt grosses me out." A slow pan around the docks. "But fleas, herpes, an' the plague do gross me out an' I think you can catch all three here in no time." She's following along after him, actually wishing she had brought something to drink for the road even if only a beer. She's watching him get ready then the lens follows the rise and crashing fall of the bottle. "I didn't think you meant literally breakin' stuff." He was so simple, no need to look any deeper into what he said. "Oh, and now you're touchin' things and you're goin' to put your fingers in your mouth." Said with the whine of a teenage babysitter her first day on the job. There was a bounce of the camera as she jogged after him to catch up and she was looking around for anything he could break with his make-shift bat. Might as well go with it. "So you come here and break stuff? That's it?" Her steps picked up and she turned so she was walking backwards and pointing the camera at him. She was too intrigued to worry about tripping on anything. "Why do you do that?"

"If you go take an hour long shower, I can join you, right?" A lift of his brows, and as always, that dumb grin, but he isn't serious. He's never really serious. "I don't have any of those! Maybe I just lucked out so far?" But he's laughing, even when she tells him she didn't think he'd meant it literally, and even more when she whines. "Ew, no. Besides, this thing looks safe," though then he holds his makeshift bat out in front of him, squinting at it, like he can actually tell if it's going to transmit disease just by looking at it. He shrugs though, apparently forgetting about the possible danger, especially when Jackie's in front of him a few paces, facing him. At first, he'd sort of seemed to put on a show for the camera, really ham it up, but he's a lot more natural now, so he just shrugs. "Yeah, sometimes. Sometimes there's other guys here and we all break stuff. Get drunk, do whatever." He leans the bat back on one shoulder. "Why?" He actually looks like he's thinking it over which... is sort of strange to see, Harry thinking. He spies an abandoned takeout coffee cup on a packing crate, takes aim, swings; the thing gets pretty obliterated, but doesn't fly very far, and it's not too satisfying, but he just continues on. "I dunno. It's fun. I mean, I'd rather get with a girl, but that doesn't always work out. This's fun too."

"If you join me I'm going to take a bath instead an' hold your head under the water." Just as his passes had become so second nature, barely anything to bat a lash at, so did her non-threats of violence. It's not like she could actually hurt Ben... Harry... whatever. Jackie's nodding along with his explanation of drinking with guys and breaking things, but she paused and practically looks impressed that Harry turned it back around on her. "I don't know, I was wonderin' what the hell you do with your time. Why you hang out here. Why you can't seem to hang onto a car to save your life." The camera swishes aside to watch the anti-climatic end of the coffee cup, but there isn't even enough time to swing the lens back on Harry before he's going on. It comes back to girls and Jackie lowers the camera to her side with a heavy sigh. Even if it's only catching a random shot of some abstract trailers in the distance the voices could still distinctly be heard from off screen. "And there it is, always comin' back to girls. Can you just, like... I don't know, man. Find it in your heart to just shut up about doin' girls for a couple hours or somethin'? I'm f*ckin' beggin' you." Jackie doesn't seem to be having fun anymore and she's turning on her heels to continue walking ahead of him. Not a quick pace, but enough to put some distance between them.

He's snickering at her threat, so obviously he didn't take it seriously. He's thinking over her explanation, but the last bit of it gets another laugh out of him, along with a helpless shrug. "I dunno, I guess I just forget where I leave it." Was that surprising? Considering the car was always ready for him when he surfaced again, it wasn't a very good incentive to try to be more responsible with it. "Aw, hey." Jackie might be trying to put some distance between them, but Harry actually jogs to catch up to her. There's actual, real concern on his face, but it's mostly just acknowledgement that she's upset -- he doesn't want to dwell on it, preferring instead to move on, make it better. "What's the matter? I don't get why it bugs you. Y'really jealous, babycakes?" He bumps his hip against hers, leans the bat against his far shoulder so he can reach over and put his hand on her shoulder. "Tell you what. Let's do what you wanna do, 'kay? Like you better when you're smilin', sweetcheeks."

When he jogs to catch up she doesn't quicken her pace, but she's still staring straight ahead almost as if she didn't hear him at all. "Don't call me babycakes." That was the first thing he got after bumping her hip with his. "I jus' don't want to hear it an' you're an a*shole for always bringin' it up even when I tell you not to. Why do y'always have to rub it in my face?" It's when he says that they can do what she wants to do that she actually halts and turns to face him. All the joking and dry humor she possessed throughout the night was gone for now, replaced with a tinge of desperation. "I want to be with Ben. I want to talk to Ben an' I want to go home with Ben. It'll make me smile. Can you do that right now?" A hand lifted, snapping repeatedly in the air between. "Ben. Ben. Ben. Ben. Ben. Is that doin' anythin' for you?" Throughout the few and far between times that Jackie had actually hung around with Harry, she could never really be sure of how aware he was of the system he was attached to. Sometimes she felt as if pulling back that curtain for him was in bad taste, but right now she didn't care.

Maybe it is in bad taste. But even confronted this directly with Ben's name -- with Jackie's request that he come back -- it's hard to tell if Harry really understands the situation. His expression goes sort of blank by the time she's repeating Ben's name over and over, though it's not the short total stupor that usually signals a switch in personality. He just looks sort of perplexed, confused, his brows drawn together, and it takes him a moment to answer her. "Not doin' a thing. Not my name." He'd stopped in his tracks when she had, but now he nudges her in the arm with his elbow, continuing on aimlessly, closer to the water now. "Sorry, I didn't know I was rubbin' it in your face. It's just like... I dunno." A vague little gesture in front of his face. "I don't always think before I open my mouth." He doesn't really sound sorry though; it was just the simple truth. "Now c'mon, I'm not that bad." He stops again, flips the bat around in his hand (maybe surprisingly agile still, considering how intoxicated he had to be), and offers the end he'd been using as a handle to Jackie. "It'll make you feel betterrrr.." Drawn out, singsong, trying to tempt. To cheer her up.

She's staring at him so intently, her hand still dangling between them even if she stopped snapping her fingers. Waiting for something, anything, a sign as to whether it worked or not. There's the smallest ounce of hope when his expression goes blank. No, it's not the same as when it happens to Ben, but some part of her wants to believe that she had managed to call him back to her. She had done it once before, why not now? Then he speaks and it all comes crashing down along with her hand sinking to her side. "Fine." Gruff, but she knows that nothing has changed tonight. Either she continues along with him or he runs wild on his own doing who knows what. One hand was shoved into the pocket of her jacket while the other still dangled at her side holding the forgotten recording camera, a small grey cloud lingering above her head as she followed him. "I know you don't, but you could open your mouth about anythin' in the whole wide world an' I wouldn't care. That's the one thing I don't want to hear about." His statement that he wasn't that bad gets another sigh. "I'm too irritated to agree right now." Which, in Jackie speak, means give her a little while to calm down again and she'll stop hating you. She stares at him, down to the bat, him, to the bat again. Finally, her hand is sliding from her jacket to take the handle from him. "I'm pissed at you an' you're giving me a blunt weapon?" Low whistle. "I don't know if you're confident or dumb as hell."

"What--oh." He just laughs when she turns them around to go in the actual right direction. "It's a surpriiise. You'll love it. I hope you love it." Yeah, he probably would hope she'd love it. "Just follow my directions. It's not far." It's not far to the car, either, though on the way he finds the pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket, taps one out, lights it up. He'll smoke in the car, too, if Jackie lets him -- if not, he'll put it out with only the slightest bit of pouting. It really isn't far, the place he directs them to -- could be a bar, from the outside, with a sign declaring the stairs down to the basement entrance "The Fox Hole." Knowing Harry, though, it was not going to be a bar. He eyes Jackie as they roll up to the building. "..we can probably still bring the camera? I hope we can." Which was sort of cryptic, but not really; before Jackie can ask him to explain, he's getting out of the car and heading for the stairs downward, the door at the bottom.

Harry plotting a surprise, nothing about this was going to be good. Once they reach the car the camera is paused so she can properly pay attention to following Harry's directions. Surprisingly, Jackie doesn't bust his chops about smoking in the car. She figures Ben probably smokes in it so who was she to say no? When they pull up in the parking lot an Jackie catches sight of that sign, The Fox Hole, her shoulders sink. "Oh good Lord. That doesn't sound good. Nothin' with the word 'hole' in it sounds good!" She's shouting after him since he was already on the move but there's no point in simply sitting in the car. She grabs the camera when she gets out, presses the record button, then tucks it into her pocket with the lens facing outward. Sure, it wasn't going to catch the best picture but she was pretty sure she was thankful for that. And it was the only way to continue her video essay titled "My Night With Harry." She picked up into a jog to catch up with Harry and mumbled under her breath while they stepped in through the door. "Don't you dare lose me in this place."

"Right, doesn't sound good -- sounds fantastic!" Hilarious. As usual, he thinks he is, and he's still laughing when Jackie catches up to him. Inside, it's probably what Jackie might've guessed -- dimly lit with a bar and a stage, and girls, lots of them, in various stages of undress in the crowd (but they all had heels on, and they were all ridiculously high). A couple of poles up on the stage; currently a redhead was grinding on one of them. That's where Harry's eyes stay, and it must be by instinct, he's heading for a seat up close. He doesn't forget about Jackie, though, and he's holding a hand out to her, palm up. "Moneyyyy. I need my wallet."

Jackie is cutting a slow trail through the sea of leggy half clothed women after Harry with a roll of her eyes. It wasn't that strip clubs bothered her. Hell, she happily had a girl's night out at a club no different than this with Peaches and Jane. Also, there was that whole thing about taking pole dancing classes. No, it wasn't really being here that bothered her, it was being here with Harry that made her nervous. She was constantly in a battle with him for him to keep it in his pants and this seemed like it would quickly undo her attempts of the night. Might as well walk a starving man into a buffet and tell him he could only enjoy the aromas. Once she reached the tip bar where Harry was her jacket was slid off and draped over the back of the chair. She was positive the camera wasn't getting any sort of picture, but she hoped it would at least pick up the conversation between the pair. Maybe it was better to not document all of this anyway.

Jackie sank down into the chair and reached into her back pocket to pull out Ben's wallet she had snagged from Harry earlier. "We're not blowin' through all of the money in here, alright? A couple dances, a few drinks, we'll make one of the girls call y'Big Poppa and then we'll head home. Alright?" The wallet was flipped open and although Jackie had managed cool and collected the entire time they were in the club, it was the stash of cash in Ben's wallet that made her jaw drop. Her thumb brushed over a mess of hundreds and a slew of smaller bills, her gaze lifting to Harry. "Didja win at poker tonight or what, Harry?" That was the most logical explanation she could come up with when she fished out some of the smaller bills and handed them over to him.

"Alright, okay, yeahyeah." It's impossible to tell if he's really listening. Then again, even if he is, it's uncertain how long he'd even retain that plan for. He's still holding his hand out toward Jackie, though it's really just where he guesses she is based on his periphery, because his eyes are glued to the redhead. "Poker? Nah, didn't play tonight. Why?" But it's an idle question, and one that he doesn't really care if he gets an answer to or not, especially because right after he asks it, he's got money in his hand. He's immediately folding up one of the bills without even checking to see how much it's for, and, while he'd avoided putting his fingers in his mouth at the docks earlier like Jackie had squeamishly predicted, he doesn't show any qualms about holding the end of the folded bill in his teeth when he leans up close to the stage. The redhead actually gives Jackie a look, one that says, really?, before she saunters over to Harry, leans down, plucks the cash from his mouth with her fingers. Whatever she says to him is too quiet for Jackie to hear over the music, but Harry must've heard it because he laughs -- of course -- and calls after her as she struts on to the next (much better behaved) patron, "I'm into it if you are!"

It was Jackie's turn to give a distant answer when Harry said he hadn't played poker tonight. "Ugh, nothin'." The wallet was flipped closed and she was about to rise from her seat to go make some change when Harry stuck the money between his teeth. When the redhead gives Jackie a look she's giving a wrinkled nose expression in return then shrugging. Her answer was called over the music, "He ain't mine." Ben she would claim through thick and thin. Harry? No way, no how. Once the redhead is walking away Jackie is rising to her feet and poking Harry in the side. "Be nice to the dancers or I'm gonna hold you down an' let 'em hit you." Pause. "No, wait, probably not. You would consider that a successful evenin' wouldn't you?" Flat but a smirk played at her lips. "I'm gonna go break up some money, grab a couple drinks. What do you want an' more importantly can I trust you alone by yourself for ten minutes without makin' trouble?"

Harry actually leans away from the poke to his side -- there's a little jump to it, automatic reaction -- and he's swatting her hand away. But, predictably, he laughs. "Be nice?! I'm always nice. You know what she said to me? That I should be on a leash. Kinky, right? And yeah, that'd be successful, as long as none of 'em hit me in the junk." He gives the redhead one last look, and then he turns to Jackie -- and it's his turn; he gives her a little prod at the side of her hip. "Bourbon, neat? And you can trust me," though that innocent look, blue eyes wide and all, is not very convincing, "but can you trust her?" With a little tilt of his head toward the redhead, a few patrons down, currently accepting bills in the skinny strap of her thong.

It's her turn to laugh when he swats her hand away. So often it was the other way around, with him poking his fingers into her cheeks in a failed attempt to get her to smile. "I'm not sure she meant it as a compliment, but it's not a half bad idea, really." Her gaze shifts to the redhead as well so when his prod lands she's jumping as well. "What? Oh, yeah, Bourbon neat. Fine." Lips thinned at his so-called innocent expression. "I will be back in five minutes." Ten minutes with an unsupervised Harry suddenly felt too long. Another flicker of her gaze to the redhead then a nod to Harry. "I trust the polite stripper more than I trust you, hell yeah I do." Point. "Be good." In a strip club, sure, why not?

"Jesus, I didn't think you were the kinky type too!" Hard to tell if he's really that dense or if the whole thing's a joke, but that's pretty standard when dealing with Harry. "I'm always good!" Calling after her.

No tricks from Jackie and the money is released into his grasp once he manages to find it. "What's wrong? Y'don't like the word friends? It too squishy for you? You prefer reluctant pals? Chummy foes? I been havin' the term frenemies on my mind a lot lately if y'wanna go with that." Her beer was lifted to show she was set. "I'm good. You drink mine for me, too." Harry was always so much easier to corral when he was plastered. She wasn't expecting him to put his hand on her shoulder, to look at her so intently like that. It made brows rise slowly because she wasn't sure what was coming next, but his question made her chuckle. "Home, Harry. After this we're gonna go home." A slow tilt of her head. She really just wanted him to pass out safely in Ben's bed so she could sleep peacefully, but it was going to need that usual spin. "I want to drink but I ain't much for gettin' behind the wheel wasted. Bad form, y'know? So I say after this we go back t'your place and tip back a few so I can get properly lit." Little shrug. "Alright?"

"Nono, I like friends. I just didn't think you did." One of his rare moments of perception? He listens attentively to her plan (a rarity indeed), and then he's nodding, a little too emphatically for the context. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be quick, 'kay? So you can get drinkin'. And then me 'n you..." He gestures back and forth between them, winks, clicks his tongue. "You don't gotta deny it." He finally drops his hand from her shoulder, takes a step back, toward the bar. "You're gonna say no if I tell you we can' jus' go home now and you can earn these singles from me, right?"

How was this possible? After everything that Harry had done since the first day she met him, the strife that he so often causes between her and Ben, the problems that he creates for Ben alone, how did he manage to make her feel guilty because he thought a simple thing like calling them friends was out of the question? She gave a gruff, incoherent mumble and shrug before actually saying something he could hear. "You haven't been a total as*hole tonight. Tonight we're friends." Oh, but then he continues on and there's that gesture, that wink and tongue click. The guilt lessened dramatically. "I'm not even gonna waste my time denyin' it because y'know better." She's ready to turn her attention back on her beer, but his final question steals it all away again while leaving her laughing. "I'm not gonna say no." She drew out a silence to make the finish that much better. "I'm gonna say f*ck no. Go get your drink an' whatever the hell else you're doin'." Now her beer was lifted, brought to her lips for a long sip and her gaze lifted to the girl performing on stage.

He laughs, as good-natured and easily as always, when she tells him the answer isn't only 'no,' but 'f*ck no.' Definitely wasn't offended. "Fine, fine. I'd rather give 'em to someone more enthusiastic about my company, anyway." Mock-hurt, but he can't even hold that face for long. "Be back in a few, babycakes." Another grin and a wink, and then he's weaving his way back through the crowd to the bar.

If Jackie's watching, it's just about what she might expect: he orders a drink, and while he's waiting, a pretty, bra-and-panty clad blonde starts chatting him up. It doesn't take long for him to get his drink, and shortly after that, he follows the dancer off to one of the semi-private booths, bringing his drink with him.

The departing use of the term 'babycakes' is enough to draw her gaze from the current girl on stage and her attention lingers after Harry a while after that. While he's getting his drink and the blonde talking him up. From a distance, without hearing him speak, just watching him sway because of the booze, it's easier to imagine him as an overserved Ben. This was her night, babysitting Harry and grasping onto any moments that reminded her of Ben even if Harry's actions that followed when she caught a glimmer of them often made her enraged or pointlessly jealous. Exactly how she was right now when he followed the blonde off into the much more private room. Why did it make her so mad when she could come here with Ben without batting a lash if he did something similar? Maybe because Ben had boundaries that he wouldn't cross. He had a stake in what they had. Harry on the other hand only had one thing on his mind and it was hard to tell how long his self control could hold up.

He's gone a little longer this time, maybe fifteen minutes, but just as before, the two are laughing when they're back in the public area of the bar, and the dancer actually gives him a cutesy little wave and purses her lips in an air kiss before turning and sauntering off into the crowd. Harry's laughing, of course, and he makes like he's catching the kiss in one hand before wobbling back to where he'd left Jackie before.

She had fallen into another bout of silence with her empty beer bottle sitting between her and the girl on stage. There was relief when she saw Harry on his approach, though it was quickly replaced by guilt when she noticed just how hard it was for him to walk a straight line. He was still a few paces off when she rose to her feet, gathered up her jacket to slide it on, and moved quickly to meet him. "Think it's time t'head on out, Harry." This was only confirmed when he didn't even give any protest. His hands were lifted in surrender and he was taken by the elbow so he could be turned around and walked right back out the door.

The Next Morning...

By the time Ben wakes up the next morning, light is already filtering in around the curtains that block the windows in his bedroom. It isn't much, but it's bright enough to hurt, and he goes to pull the blanket up over his head, groaning pitifully -- but that's when he realizes that someone is in bed with him. He'd already felt nauseated, horribly, from the hangover, but there's a more sickening lurch in his stomach when he sees the tangled mess of blonde next to him, the form of a girl curled up on her side, turned away from him, under the blanket next to him. "Sh*t," under his breath, and he ducks his head for a moment, pinches the bridge of his nose, tries to get it together.

He wasn't sure what was worse: waking up next to some blonde that had spent the night with him -- well, with his body, anyway -- and waking up with her still there the day that Ben was planning to ask Jackie to move in with him, share a home with him, share his bed -- or that Adam might have witnessed all this the night before. He moves from pinching the bridge of his nose to covering his face with his hands, just briefly, though a "Jesus Christ" is muffled behind his hands before he drops them. Usually, his protocol in situations like these -- waking up next to some girl with no memory of the night before -- is to just leave without waking her, but usually, he's not in his own bed. He debates between finding Adam first or waking up the girl, but eventually he decides on the latter, just so she doesn't wander downstairs while Ben's trying to get Adam to go play outside or something, so he puts a hand on her shoulder, shakes her gently. "Uh.. hey. Hey, wake up." His voice is quiet to match the slight movement when he shakes her; his head is killing him.

Jackie hadn't drank close to enough to earn herself a hangover from the night before, but it had been a long and hard enough night for her to want to sleep far into the afternoon without being interrupted. She was only faintly aware of the stirring beside her, but she assumed it would end with Harry passing back out in his stupor. It had to be Harry. Ben would have greeted her a lot differently than the words that trailed into her ears, like someone talking to a stranger. That was what triggered in her brain to slap at the hand on her shoulder. "There's enough room for y'to stay on your side of the bed, Harry. Unless you're about to vomit up a lung an' need a bucket you touch me again an' you're losin' that hand."

He's not completely surprised when she slaps his hand -- she was probably hungover too -- but the level of relief he feels when he hears the familiar voice is a surprise, albeit a welcome one. "Oh, thank god. Not Harry, sweetheart. Ben." Making the correction leaves him grimacing a little, but it doesn't last too long -- or, it does, but the reason for it changes mostly to just feeling ill. That crisis averted, he's taking better stock of his surroundings now. Maybe he should have known that this wasn't a normal waking-up-with-someone-else's-hangover morning, considering he still had clothes on. The tylenol and glass of water on the nightstand should have been a giveaway too.

A soft cuss is sighed out with Ben's correction and she's automatically rolling over to face his way. "Sorry, sorry. Not the good mornin' greeting y'wanted, I'm sure. I was sorta on guard all night, but the bed was too comfortable t'go sleep on the couch." She had noted his relief and it made her stomach turn a little though she didn't say anything. Did he not realize it was her just like she didn't realize it was him? Just another reason why she found it hard to feel too bad about the night before considering Harry's track record.

With Jackie there, his level of panic decreases considerably, so he takes a moment to pop a couple of the pills, drink about half the glass of water before laying back down and pulling the covers up to his chin. "What happened? Where's Adam?" His voice was torn up, standard after a night with Harry.

She waits for him to take some of the Tylenol and get settled in before she's shifting the rest of the way across the bed to press herself against him, an arm draping over his chest and her head tipping back to press a kiss along his jaw. She had been wanting to do that all night. That out of the way she settled herself against him, burrowing her face into his shoulder. It was nice to have Ben back along with the feeling that Jackie could let go and not be in control of the situation any longer. "Adam is at my house with Hayley. He gave me a call yesterday after y'didn't pick him up from school so he walked home. I picked him up, took him over there, and blew up your phone 'til Harry told me where t'find him. After that? It was a night out." That nightmare of a night summarized into five words. There was a small hesitation before she added on softly. "Y'remember anythin' before Harry took over?"

He figured Adam had to be safe somewhere -- he realizes, all at once, that he trusts Jackie completely with his son -- but he still looks relieved when Jackie confirms it. He ducks his head, hides his face in her hair when she tucks herself in against his shoulder, closes his eyes and notes that at least the room isn't spinning. Small victories. "Thanks for doing that, sunshine. Owe you." Even though he knew she'd say that he didn't. "A night out. Sounds... Well, at least you were able to keep track of him." He assumes. Maybe he shouldn't.

When he actually thinks about her question, he actually can remember, quite a bit, too much -- so, "No," he lies. "I was just in my office." He shifts a little, maybe just to get more comfortable, but he ends up pulling her in a little closer. "Nothing I can remember that should have set me off."