Best Man

As a few days of September passed rather briskly, Caroline and Mike still weren't on speaking terms, even though they were now exchanging civil gestures and looks. It was a little bittersweet in the sense that they both wanted to just get over their fight and the tension left in the wake, but they were just too headstrong for any mending to take place just yet.

Instead, they threw themselves into their work.

Mike and the guys were busy at 880 Studios, working on new material yet again. And as Billie Joe observed their practices and recording sessions, he had to thank the Powers That Be that him and the guys were still together as a band after all these years. Nearly two decades as Green Day. Unlike The Sinners, who'd lost one of their founding members to the sudden urge of trading their lifestyle in for that of a blue collar cop back in Buffalo. The remaining three -- Caroline, Nef and David -- were left to regroup and figure out just what they were going to do.

Should they call up old bass-playing friends from the Queen City? Find a temp or two -- or three -- to play on their second record before the time to tour came around? Hold auditions for a new bassist like American fuckin' Idol?

The trio was so lost that they didn't even know where to begin. For now the only thing they could agree on was to postpone any further recording sessions until they could get it together.

And where it seemed like Nef and David found some solid ground to cling to while they sorted through their thoughts, Caroline's world was spinning around and around, and upside down. It wasn't the first time in her life she'd felt as if she had no control on the world around her; on her life. But this was certainly becoming one of the hardest times to focus on the here and now.

She just wanted to fade away for a little while. To forget the troubles, the complications, the miscommunications, the arguments, the stress, the plans, the record execs breathing down her neck, and the fiance who couldn't understand why she didn't seem to want to be a part of his life at the moment.

So, Caroline went out. With one purpose in mind.

To lose touch with reality for, at least, one night.

Billie Joe and Adrienne had invited a bunch of people to go out and party with them for a night to celebrate the Autumnal Equinox.

Really it was just an excuse to have fun and get drunk because there aren't any actual holidays in the United States that land in September besides Grandparents Day, and that just doesn't count.

Jakob's birthday a week earlier; excluded.

This was what the dark-haired rocker chick needed.

Dressed to kill in a crimson slip dress with a black lace overlay and black lace trim, Caroline also wore a pair of funky red, Jimmy Choo heels to offset the sheer black nylons she wore. Her hair tousled and tumultuous, the look she gave with her eyes alone suggested she was a woman on a mission.

A mission to get a little drunk and not have to remember anything the following morning when she woke up with a hangover.

Once at the club and three drinks later, Caroline was fluttering about like a butterfly, smiling like she hadn't in the last couple of weeks. Along with the pulse and beat of the music, she began to sway, holding her drink up so expertly that it didn't spill one bit.

Watching from not a few feet away, Mike grimaced as he leaned against the bar, a rum and coke in his hand as Tre walked up beside him and gave him a slight nudge.

"Brings back memories, you know?"

As if coming out of a trance, Mike snapped his head toward Tre with a questioning glance. "What?"

Gesturing to a very buzzed Caroline, who was on the make to becoming extra flirty, with his hand that held his own glass of his infamous Cheech, Tre reiterated his comment to his friend. "Caroline. Dancing around like this. The last time I can really remember her drunk and flirty was when she was cheating on me with you."

Mike flashed Tre a brief, sheepish smile. "Yeah, I s'pose so."

"Of course," the drummer continued. "I didn't exactly know what was going on at the time. I just had a feeling at the pit of my stomach."

The last comment put a bit of a strain on Mike's heart. Shit. What if that's what was happening again? What if Caroline's doing something behind my back? Or rather, doing someone?

Mike grimaced at the thought jangling in his head. "You know I'll always be sorry for what we did to you, but...I'm not sorry." Both friends locked eyes. "I loved her -- love her -- and I'd do it all again in a heartbeat."

"I don't doubt that."

The expression Tre gave Mike wasn't exactly a sad smile but it wasn't a frown either. It was sort of a happy medium between the two.

And while they stood there, stewing in past memories and heartaches, the girl that put a wedge in their friendship was busy stewing in anything but. With the exception of her alcohol-induced mood that had her starting to feel no pain.

The song playing turned changed to Ashlee Simpson's 'L.O.V.E' which caused several groans from the hardcore rockers in the club, but in all honesty, it was a good song to dance to.

And if it weren't for more than Caroline being a bit drunk, there'd be no point in dancing at all.

Jason White was shaking his ass on one side of the dance floor with Adrienne, who was laughing up a storm as the younger man tried to reinvent the jitter bug, and failing miserably. Then there was Billie Joe, dressed simply in a black, long-sleeve Adeline dress shirt with the top buttons undone along with the sleeves rolled up a bit. Shaking his own ass in his black dickies, he locked his sights on Caroline, who grinned goofily at him and scooted across the floor in his direction.

"Care to dance, perty lady?" he slurred almost inaudibly to the sober ear. But to Caroline, she understood just fine, because she was currently speaking his language.

"Yes'm, perty sir," she answered, throwing her empty red, plastic cup over her shoulder; not caring where it landed as she snaked her arms around Billie Joe's shoulders and pressed her body against his.

He slithering down hers a little, and then slithered right back up so that he was looking her in the eye, albeit very dazed-like. Throwing an arm around her waist and hooking a hand under her right leg in a way that caused the hem of her slip dress to hike up her thigh, the two of them began to dance so closely on the dance floor that they were grinding.

Almost as if they were having sex on the dance floor. But not.

Even though they were completely oblivious to their actions, it garnered a few curious looks, however.

"I'm so tired," Caroline whisper-slurred a bit sadly; her lips inches from his.

Billie Joe just smiled. "'Cause alcohol makes perty ladies sleepy."

"This pretty lady don't wanna be sleepy. She wants to have fun." Tilting her head up so that her chin leaned against his chest, Caroline bit her bottom lip. "You're a good friend, y'know? I can just...talk, talk, talk to you and you listen...you listen and...you know?"

"Uh-huh."

Tilting her slightly drunken head to one side, Caroline smiled ruefully. "I wanna thank you and Adie for asking me to join this party. I really..." she trailed as she gently burped, then giggled it off. "I, uh...thanks. I really needed this tonight."

"No prob, Bob."

Lifting one delicate hand, Caroline traced the shape of Billie Joe's jawline up to the top of his ear where she curled her finger around a lock of his dirty blonde hair. Leaning in closer, she whispered, "Good...good friend. Good friends. I got good--no--great friends."

Biting his bottom lip, Billie Joe just nodded as the Ashlee Simpson song changed to Disturbed's 'Stricken' and it seemed to rev up the brunette's alcohol-induced mood. Spinning around a little tipsy-ish, Caroline pressed her backside into Billie Joe as he wrapped her arms around her waist again; placing his hands on her hips to hold her in place and groaning slightly at the friction she was causing.

Had he any clue whatsoever just how seductive both were being together, even though they honestly meant nothing by it, the punk rocker wouldn't have been caught dead in this position. Granted, that would be if he were sober.

As Caroline spun back around to face Billie Joe, the two of them began to dance together off the dance floor, grabbing Jell-O shots from the waiter floating around with a tray propped up in his hands and then downing them in a matter of seconds. Returning to the mission at hand that backed each other into the corridor that led toward the bathrooms and when Caroline bumped into the wall, the duo began to cackle drunkenly as they fumbled to regain their footing.

"We're kinda not on the dance floor anymore," Caroline slurred.

Looking over his shoulder, Billie Joe stared straight-faced, but then burst out into a fit of giggles. "Yeah. Or maybe the dance floor ran away. Maybe we never went anywhere."

"Maybe." Smiling at her good friend Billie Joe, the chocolate-haired woman looked up at him with heavy-laden eyes; the effects of the drinks she'd consumed beginning to make her a little sleepy.

Without really saying anything further, except for a few indecipherable mutterings, the two of them leaned forward and were suddenly going at it like a pack of ravenous wolves pouncing on an unsuspecting elk. His hands were roaming her body, pinning her against the wall, while she closed her eyes and welcomed the foreign fingers that were snaking under her thin, red dress.

And then, almost comically, the two of them moaned two completely different names than each others, at the very same time.

"Mike," Caroline breathed against Billie Joe's lips and into the cavern of his mouth.

"Adie," he uttered.

"Uh, yeah, honey. That's not me," came Adrienne's voice.

Slowly turning his head to the left, Billie Joe found his wife standing at the beginning of the hallway; one hand on her hip and the other holding a red, plastic cup as she quirked an eyebrow at her husband and frowned a bit.

Looking back at Caroline who looked completely dumbfounded and out of sorts -- and not to mention a bit exhausted -- the 36-year-old guitarist stepped back and stumbled closer to his wife. Dipping his head sheepishly and holding his hands out, he dropped them limply at his sides. "I'm sorry...I thought..." he grimaced, putting a hand to his temple. "I don't know..."

Rolling her eyes, Adrienne reached out and linked her free arm through his. "It's okay. Stop talking, you lush." Throwing Caroline a glance, she took in how Caroline was starting to slump against the wall. "Care, honey. You really need to get Mike to take you home."

The older woman's voice was stern and meant business. Caroline simply nodded as best as possible, unaware that Mike had just stepped into the hallway with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

He looked almost forlorn as Adrienne dragged her husband away, leaving the betrothed couple alone.

"What happened?" he wondered sadly; his voice no louder than a whisper.

Tired hazel eyes finding their way to Mike's, Caroline pulled herself up off the wall and sauntered over to him, shaking her head. Closing her eyes, she practically fell into his chest as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Take me home?" she asked in a small voice.

His heart strickening as he returned the gesture, he rested his chin on the top of her head. Kissing her forehead before moving away from her, Mike placed a hand on the small of her back and helped lead her out of the hallway and out of the club to take the woman he loved home.

As soon as they were in his car and on the road, he threw several glances toward her time and again to see that she was doing okay but only to find she was passed out against the window on her side; her mouth slightly agape as she snored gently.

Once they arrived to the house, Mike parked the car and hopped out first in order to move around to her side and unbuckle her seatbelt, and once that was done, he lifted her up into his arms and carried her inside.

Taking the steps one at a time, the long-legged bassist quietly entered their bedroom just as Giselle was poking her head out of her own room, several feet away.

"Hey," she called out in a hushed voice. "She okay?"

Mike turned his head just enough to nod and then walk further into his room to set his sleeping fiancee down on their bed. After closing the door behind them, he returned to Caroline to take her shoes off and set them on the ground. He then worked her nylons off and reached under her back to unfasten her strapless bra; pulling it off and dropping that to the floor with her other belongings.

When he lifted the duvet up to her shoulders, she turned over onto her side with a stifled groan.

Watching her for just a moment, Mike went about taking his own clothes off until he was down his boxers. Then, slipping into the opposite side of the bed, Mike scooted closer to Caroline, pulling her to him so that her head was rested on his chest.

And it was then, for just a moment, that Mike felt as if everything was like it had been.

Like everything was fine.