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Two are Halves of One

By: SmallTownPrincess



"Hello? Earth to Emma!"

Emma zoned back in to the real world, refocusing on her twin sister across from her and their friends seated around the dining hall table. "Where the hell have you been for the past five minutes? We're trying to figure out which show to hit tonight." Rachel, her twin, was staring at her expectantly, waiting for her to cast the deciding vote.

Emma flushed hot; she couldn't tell the table where her mind had been - where it seemed to drift more often than not these days. "I-I wouldn't mind hitting up Jack Rabbit Tim's. We went to Wild West the last two times." Emma hadn't heard which bands were playing, but there were only two venues in town with regular live music. She was relieved to see that Rachel seemed pleased enough with her choice.

"Tim's it is! Kate, we'll pick you up at nine, yeah?" Rachel stood, and the rest of the table gathered their trays and made their way toward the door as if that was their cue.

Emma glanced down at her watch. Almost one? It seemed like they'd just sat down. She must have tuned out worse than she thought. Rachel picked up Emma's bag for her, dropping it on her shoulder atop her own satchel. "You feelin' ok, Em?"

"Yeah. Just...tired." Emma tried to avoid her sister's eyes, but Rachel was like a dog with a bone when she thought something was up with her twin. Older by two minutes, Rachel believed her "baby" sister was her responsibility.

They emerged from the dining hall arm-in-arm and almost ran headlong into Dean and Carter Moore - the only other set of twins on campus. The boys and Rachel laughed, greeting amiably; Emma ducked her head, her cheeks burning with a raging blush. As they passed the boys and speed-walked toward the art building, Rachel's fingers dug into Emma's arm.

"What was that? Did something happen between you and Hot Stuffs one and two?" Rachel asked.

Emma just shook her head. What could she say?

***

Rachel and Emma shared a one-bedroom apartment. There was nothing new about that; they'd shared a room their entire lives. But it did make it difficult for Emma to escape her sister's rabid curiosity that evening when they both got home from classes and work. Emma did her best, setting an in-progress landscape on her easel in one corner and jamming earbuds in her ears, but Rachel was having none of her evasions.

"Are you gonna tell me what was up with you and the Moores, or am I gonna have to ask them?" she asked without preamble. She sat on Emma's desk, a bowl of microwave popcorn in her lap. She stuffed a handful in her mouth and chewed loudly.

"It's nothing, Rach. And anyway, they wouldn't know what you're talking about."

"So tell me why you decided to go red-faced super-creep on them today."

Emma dunked her bamboo brush in her water cup more forcefully than she meant to, splashing water over the desk. Rachel ignored the puddle creeping toward her, watching her sister and waiting for an explanation.

"I can't really explain it," Emma said at last. "I think I may be losing my mind."

Laughing, Rachel said, "I think that ship has sailed. What, do you have a crush on one of them?" When Emma didn't answer, her twin persisted. "You do, don't you! Which one?"

"Rachel, just leave it."

"I don't get what the big deal is. We've had a standing invitation to go out with them since, like, freshman orientation."

"It's..." Emma sighed. "Please just drop it."

Rachel chunked a piece of popcorn at her sister, where it stuck to her curly hair. "Not until you tell me which of those meatheads you're lusting after."

Emma studiously ignored her, dripping some purple paint on the carpet as she turned back to her watercolor landscape. If her sister knew the dark turn her thoughts had taken, she'd never speak to her again. Better to have Rachel mad at her for keeping secrets and leave it at that. 

"It's Dean, isn't it? He's always been the cuter one, even if he is a little shorter. There's something a little freaky about Carter's eyes. I know they're green, too, but sometimes it looks like they don't have any color at all."

Emma made a little choking noise in her throat, and Rachel laughed. "So it's Carter, is it? You like those eyes?"

Refusing to rise to the bait, Emma kept her eyes on her painting. Rachel, seeing that she would get nowhere with her questioning, snatched the watercolor off the easel.

"Hey!" Emma shouted, grabbing for her artwork. "Give that back!" 

Rachel clambered up onto the top bunk, waving the painting. "Tell me which one you like! Tell me!"

"Give me the-" Emma cut off her own words as she leaped and bellyflopped onto the upper mattress, reaching for the paper in her sister's hands. Rachel held her at arm's length, the painting hidden behind her. Emma threw herself at her sister, trying to wrestle the painting away without tearing it. They rolled precariously close to the edge as they struggled.

"Stop, stop!" Rachel said as Emma started to pull her hair. She'd always been a wimp about her sensitive scalp. "I will give it back, if you will just tell me! Which one do you like?"

"Both of them!" Emma shouted at last. "I want them both, ok?" 

Rachel stopped struggling, cocking her head to the side the way she did when she was puzzled. "You mean, you can't decide, or...?"

Blushing furiously again, Emma abandoned her quest to retrieve the painting and slid off the bunk. She rolled onto her own bed underneath it, turning so she could press her hot face against the cool wall. To her chagrin, Rachel followed, sitting down beside her on the lower bunk.

"Wait, clarify this for me. You want them?"

Emma pulled her pillow over her head. How could she possibly put into words the fantasies she'd been having? Her sister would never understand this bizarre desire to have Carter holding her in his arms, Dean pressed up behind her, their warm skin-

"Like, at the same time, Emma?" There was something odd about Rachel's tone. It didn't hold the condemnation Emma had expected from her sister. In fact, she sounded almost... excited. Emma rolled over, noting with confusion the mischievous glitter in her twin's eyes.

"Look, can you just leave me to wallow in my own sick mind?" 

Rachel shrugged. "Sure. But then who will help you seduce the Moore twins?"

Emma inhaled too sharply and dissolved into a fit of coughing. She had not expected Rachel to adopt this idea, make it one of her projects. This wasn't like scheming against their parents to sneak out late or get permission to dye their hair. Nevertheless, the thought of having her sister on her side held a certain appeal for Emma.

She'd felt terribly alone in her secret since this dark obsession had started to form a few weeks back. Emma had always found the Moores attractive, but she'd declined their multiple invitations to go out because she knew Rachel had no interest in them, or in being the novelty couple-pair that two sets of twins would make.

She'd been excited to see them at her friend Wilson's black light party several weeks ago. Rachel played beer pong in the back yard, leaving Emma in the kitchen with a couple of their girlfriends. Emma had spotted the Moores flirting with a pair of girls who were obviously overwhelmed by the two hot guys who could finish each other's sentences. About halfway through the conversation, Dean and Carter had exchanged a look, and they'd smoothly swapped the girls they were talking to, continuing each other's conversations as seamlessly as if they were the same person.

Emma had been totally fascinated. She and Rachel were as different as night and day, and they'd never experienced any of the rumored twin super-empathy. She wondered if the boys practiced to be so smooth. 

Later that same night, when she'd run into them dancing in the crush of bodies in Wilson's living room, somehow she'd ended up between them, her hands in the air as the whole room seemed to move to the same rhythm. Carter's hands were on her waist, his eyes on hers; at the same time, she was supremely conscious of Dean's strong chest against her back. She would have frozen that moment forever if she could.

Rachel got into some sort of drama with another girl, and she'd grabbed Emma and insisted that they bail. Since that night, Emma had had intense, highly distracting daydreams about that dance, and it had gradually progressed into a fantasy that simultaneously captivated and shamed her.

"I wouldn't even know where to begin," Emma said, eyeing Rachel, who was grinning and bustling purposefully about the room to put the painting back on the easel and fetch her snack. "And anyway, who has the time? I've got to focus on this capstone project or I'm totally screwed in the spring."

Rachel grabbed her sister by the hands and pulled her to her feet, spinning her around like they were children again. "I have the time," Rachel said in a sing-song voice. "Oh, you wouldn't believe how long I've been waiting for you to finally get laid!"

"Rachel!"

"What? We swore we were both going to lose it at prom. You're way behind, little sister."

Emma rolled her eyes, most of her discomfort gone now. "Maybe you're just way ahead, you maneater."

Rachel licked her lips dramatically, waggling her eyebrows. "Seriously, though, when are you going to jump on the tasty twins?"

"Jesus, Rachel. I've barely spoken to them outside of a couple classes. I'm not going to jump on them."

"Because they seem like they'd be down with it. You know, if you could bring it up in a way that didn't totally freak them out," Rachel continued as if she hadn't heard her twin. "They're so... in sync, you know? It's weird. Man... I wonder if they've been with the same girl before?" 

"Please don't pursue that train of thought any farther. I don't want to think about it."

Rachel laughed. "Yes you do. You just don't want to think about them doing it with someone else." The older girl blew a piece of hair out of her face, then swept all her bobbed curls back into a ponytail. "First things first, we're going to have to go out with them."

"We? I thought you had no interest in them?" The barest edge of jealousy crept into Emma's voice, surprising her. How could she be jealous about two guys who she had no real ties to?

If Rachel heard it though, she ignored it. "I don't. But it's usually us that they ask out, probably because sharing a girl is not their go-to scenario." She was teasing, and Emma was glad of it. Having her sister talk about it all so casually made her feel less like a freak. 

"So what's your plan, oh scheming seductress?" Emma asked, her tone just as playful.

Rachel put a finger to her lips, then grinned. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and scrolled through her contacts, punching Dean's number and putting it to her ear as it rang.

"You have Dean's number?"

Rachel shrugged. "He's the hot one." The phone connected, and Rachel smiled her flirtiest, despite the fact that the fellow on the other end couldn't see it. "Dean, hey. Any chance you and Carter are free tonight? Em and I would love to see Lost Element at Jack Rabbit Tim's with y'all."

She raised her eyebrows at Emma as she listened to his response. "Great! See you at nine." With a smirk, Rachel hung up, then took a small bow.

"Not sure you're quite ready for taking bows yet, Rach. We're going out with them, but that's not necessarily helping me get them alone, you know?"

Rachel smiled a smug, close-lipped smile. "Nuh-uh. You're going out with them. At eight-thirty, I'll have just remembered that I have to pick up Kate at nine, right? And who knows, maybe I'll feel bad and have to leave about halfway through the show. And - oops! I'll take the car, which means you'll have to afterparty with the fellas alone." She repeated her bow, and this time Emma obliged, giving her a small round of applause.

"You are truly devious."

Rachel basked in the praise. "Oh, please, it's nothing. Now, what are you going to wear?"

***

When the Moores pulled up in their small black car, Carter was in the driver's seat. Dean slipped out of the passenger seat and into the back, leaving the door open for Emma.

"Thanks," she said.

"Uh... where's your sister?" Dean asked, staring back at the front doors of their apartment building.

"She forgot that she had promised to pick up Kate for the show. She'll meet us there." Emma tried to fight the blush that threatened to burn her face to a crisp. Carter was eyeing her oddly, and she was sure he could see straight through their silly, bizarre plan. 

But he didn't comment, just nodded and pulled out of the parking lot. "You look great," he said after a moment or two of dead silence in the car. He kept his eyes fixed on the road as he spoke. 

"Thanks," she murmured again.

"So," Dean said from the backseat, leaning up so that his chin was on the seat back just over her shoulder, "whose date are you?" 

Emma darted a surprised glance over her shoulder. "Oh - I..."

Carter laughed, and Dean joined in. Carter rescued her by saying, "Your sister wasn't very clear on the phone, but I'd be happy to be your date this evening." He took his right hand off the wheel and extended it to her with mock-formality. When she laid her hand in his with equally goofy courtliness, he grinned over at her.

"Guess that means I get the absentee," Dean said, leaning back to sprawl across the backseat. 

Emma squeezed Carter's fingers and then let go so he had both hands for driving. She leaned her head back to speak to Dean. "That's probably for the best. She might have been miffed if I took you - she thinks you're the hot one."

Both brothers laughed at that; except for an inch or so difference in their height and the slight variation in eye color, the two were so similar in appearance as to be indistinguishable from each other. In fact, in the dim light of the car, Emma wouldn't have been able to tell them apart if she hadn't seen them first in the brighter light outside her apartment building.

"So we're seeing Lost Element? Is their stuff any good? I've never heard of them," Carter said. He drove fast, but easily. He wasn't racing anyone or cutting corners, he just clearly wanted to get where he was going.

Emma shrugged. "No idea. If it's terrible, there's always alcohol!" She was relaxing a little. The brothers were very easy to be around. She regretted that she and Rachel hadn't spent more time with them in the past - although that might have complicated her fantasies somewhat.

"Hear, hear!" Dean said from the backseat.

When they pulled into the Jack Rabbit Tim's parking lot, it was almost full. Scantily clad girls wove between the cars, making their way to the doors in clumps, sometimes with dates trailing behind.

Carter parked and Dean opened Emma's door for her, handing her out like an old-fashioned gentleman. He smirked at his brother as Carter rounded the car and offered Emma his arm. They made an odd, lopsided row as they crossed the asphalt to the front doors. 

It wasn't until they were standing in line that Emma really paid attention to the way her date - dates? - looked. Carter looked effortlessly handsome in dark jeans and a simple dark grey polo. Dean was smoking hot in all black. She stared as long as she thought she could get away with it, admiring them in the blue and yellow light from the bar. 

When they approached the girl taking money at the door, Carter guided her forward with a hand on the small of her back and she shivered happily.

Inside was all noise and darkness and the press of people. The band wasn't up yet, so house music pounded and pulsed through the room. Emma spotted Rachel standing at a tall table with Kate and shimmied through the crowd toward them. Catching her wrist so he wouldn't lose her, Carter followed, waving for Dean. 

Rachel greeted the two brothers with a toothy smile and wave; for Emma, she had that smug, tight-lipped grin. They shouted pleasantries at each other over the music, and Dean took up a place next to Rachel. Emma stood next to him, Carter on her other side. 

Emma's twin shooed the boys toward the bar, gesturing with one hand that they needed to get the drinks. With her other hand, she snatched Emma to her side, her eyes wide with excitement and impatience.

"Well?" she half-shouted into Emma's ear. "How's it going so far?"

"Fine, I guess." Emma glanced over at Kate, but the other girl was chatting animatedly with a couple from another table. "They're so hot!"

Rachel scanned the bar so she could eye the brothers again, then nodded. "Yeah they are! Ooh, you're gonna get it!" She started dancing in her place, waggling her hips suggestively and pointing at Emma with both hands. 

"Stop that," Emma said, slapping her sister's hands down. "So what's the plan for the rest of the night?" 

Rachel was still dancing in place, rotating around to the house music with complete unconcern for being the only one dancing. She leaned back in to say, "I want to hear the first few songs. Kate was just telling me she's got a ton of homework to do, so she's the perfect person to drive me home when I start feeling under the weather." Rachel smiled wickedly. "I don't think Dean will be too disappointed. He was watching your ass pretty happily when you were making your way over here."

Emma laughed, shaking her head. She didn't reply, as the boys had returned with drinks. Emma took a long swig of her beer so she wouldn't have to answer Carter's questioning look.

"Just in time," Rachel said as she snagged the beer Dean offered. The band was filing onto the stage, fiddling noisily with their instruments.

The band was pretty good, and lively. A few people tried to start a mosh pit in front of the low stage, but it didn't take off. Emma relaxed, sipping her beer and enjoying the music. About three songs into the set, Rachel clutched her head very dramatically. 

"Ugh," she moaned. "This music is loud."

Dean reached out a hand but didn't quite touch her. "You ok?" 

Rachel increased the volume of her complaints. "Man, I don't feel so great. This music is giving me a major headache. Think I may have to head home!" She turned to Kate. "Hey, I'm sorry I dragged you out! I know you have a ton of homework."

Kate's face was creased with concern. "Hey, it's ok! Do you need me to drive you home? You are my ride."

"Oh, would you? That would be so great of you." Rachel gathered her things off the table, took one last swig of her beer, then vanished with a wave, Kate close behind. 

Dean looked surprised and a little confused. "Well, that was - abrupt," he said to his brother and Emma. He laughed. "Was it something I said?" 

Emma watched her sister go with a sigh. She could have at least made it seem like she wasn't trying to bail. She put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "I doubt it. She gets whims."

"She what?"

Emma leaned closer and shouted, "She gets whims. Once she's decided something, no one can say anything to stop her." 

"Ah." Dean glanced back toward the door through which Rachel had left, then shrugged and turned back to Emma and Carter. "You're not going to bail on us, are you?"

Emma grinned. "Not a chance." She raised her beer bottle and clinked it with his as he laughed. 

As if to reassert his presence, Carter rested his hand on her back again and reached around her to add his own bottle to the celebration before all three of them drained what was left of their drinks.

They returned to their quiet enjoyment of the music, occasionally making loud commentary and cracking jokes. Emma's face was flushed and her cheeks were sore from smiling; she could not have imagined the night better.

As they joked and talked, Carter seemed to be subtly trying to steer her closer to himself. Dean wasn't exactly pulling her attention away, but he was making it clear that he didn't want to be left out of the fun just because his half of the date had left. There was a tension between the brothers that grew as the night swung on. Emma began to realize that getting literally between them would be harder than just presenting the opportunity; they could barely share a single casual evening with her. 


Two are Halves of One



She intercepted a meaningful look from Carter to his brother, obviously a signal that he needed to talk to him. With a sigh, she pushed away from the table. "I'll get the next round. You two... play nice." She gave them both a wry smile.

Ducking through the crowd to the bar, she marveled at how many people were packed into the building. Wasn't there some sort of occupancy limit? It seemed like the entire town was squeezed into the large, dark room. There was a semi-organized line at the bar, so she slid in behind a couple of girls wobbling in sky-high heels.

"A girl as pretty as you shouldn't be waiting for your own drinks," someone shouted over her shoulder, and she turned to see who was speaking. A broad-shouldered blonde guy in an Ed Hardy shirt was as close to her as he could be without touching, leering down at her. When her initial shock of discomfort wore off, she realized he was waiting for a response.

"Oh, you know, just-"

He cut her off, so perhaps he hadn't been waiting on a response at all. "Can I buy you something?"

"Sure," she said quickly, more to get him out of her personal space than because she wanted the free beer. He wandered off to the back bar, where the line was shorter, and she sighed, relieved to have no one hulking over her.

Her line didn't seem to be moving, and Emma peered around the pair of girls gesticulating at each other in front of her. Leaning across the bar and flirting for all he was worth with the female bartender, the guy at the front of the line was ignoring the drink she was trying to shove into his hand. He was clearly drunk already; Emma wondered that the bartender hadn't just cut him off, but the tip he left when he finally stumbled off was sizable.

The next guy had a huge order of shots for his table, so Emma crossed her arms and settled in for a wait. To her dismay, Ed Hardy was back.

"Here, sexy," the guy half-bellowed, handing her an electric blue drink in a stein.

"What the hell is this?" she asked, eyeing the drink doubtfully. She hadn't drunk many fruity drinks since freshman year, when she'd gotten totally wasted on them and spent the better part of the night hugging a toilet at her friend's place.

He shouted something that Emma couldn't understand, but she assumed it was the name of the drink. She sniffed it; smelled like berries. She took a sip and was pleasantly surprised, although it was a little sweeter than she usually liked her drinks. The guy kept chatting her up as the line moved forward again, although she could barely hear him over the music. She drained some more of the blue stuff so she wouldn't have to formulate a response.

When they finally got to the front of the line, Emma waved three fingers at the bartender, pointed at the Budweiser sticker on the bar and hoped the girl would understand. She turned her body away from the lurker, hoping that he would catch the hint that she was with friends and didn't want his company, but he stayed, shout-flirting and occasionally touching her shoulder or arm.

Emma traded her empty glass for the three bottles and passed the bartender some bills, then tried to turn on her heel and ditch her admirer. She found herself a lot dizzier than she'd anticipated; after all, she'd only had one beer and that stupid blue drink, which hadn't even tasted alcoholic. Catching her balance required a startling amount of concentration, and she almost dropped all three beers in the process.

"Jeez," she muttered, and it came out long and drawn out. She blinked and shook her head, trying to refocus and get back to her table. For some reason, Emma was having a hard time navigating the dark bar through all these people. They seemed to be jostling her unnecessarily, throwing her off balance and trying to pull the drinks from her hands.

"Whoa, watch out," somebody said as she nearly fell over trying to swerve around a laughing couple. It was that infernal drink-buyer, catching her arm and holding her up. "Looks like you've had a bit too much to drink, my friend," he called out.

"No," she protested, "I've had barely anything. I have to find my friends."

He wouldn't let go of her arm, and she was having a hard time shaking him off with her hands full of bottles. She dropped one of the beers with a loud crash as she tried to push his hand away.

Ed Hardy laughed. "I am your friend," he said, pulling her toward him and off balance again. He took the other two bottles out of her hands and set them on a nearby table, then draped an arm around her like he was supporting her.

"Get off," she said, but she found herself dragged stumbling along beside him. Where did he think he was taking her? That was the front door ahead of them, not the tables. Dean and Carter were the other way. He tightened his hold on her as she tried to shrug out from under his arm, even as her limbs threatened to go limp and give out on her.

Someone else grabbed her arm, and her whole body jerked like a rag doll as the two opposing forces tugged her in opposite directions. There were a few quiet, angry words, followed by some angrier shouting. The arm around her shoulders disappeared and someone pulled her back into the bar, away from a pair of men that she could see now were fighting.

Her head felt loose on her neck, and she thought she might be sick. "Emma? Emma?" someone was saying, but she didn't respond, and things went dark and quiet after a while. 

***

Carter tried to hold Emma up as he led her to the car. She giggled like a child, swaying back and forth to the beat of the music still pumping out through the open doors of the bar. Dean caught her free arm and laughed when she looked at him with wide, startled eyes.

"Where'd you come from?" she slurred. "You were just over-" She swung her head to look back at Carter, then laughed, squeezing her eyes shut. "There's two of you."

"Nope. I just run at light speed," Dean quipped lightly. "You got her?" he called over her head to Carter.

"Yeah." Carter wasn't quite ready for lighthearted banter. Most of his thoughts were still angry as he thought about the guy who'd tried to snatch Emma, and about the bouncer who had been so spectacularly unhelpful in detaining him. The jerk had booked it as soon as Dean took a swing at him, and neither of them had gotten a good enough look at him to describe him to authorities.

"Dance with me, Carter," Emma said, grabbing him around the waist. She was grinning from ear to ear, her eyes not quite focused. "Don' care what Rachel says, you're the hot one."

Dean exploded with laughter as his brother peeled Emma off of his body. "Well, I guess she likes you! What's wrong with her anyway? She only had one beer."

"He had to have drugged her. We've seen her drink - she's not this much of a lightweight." Carter struggled to keep the anger out of his tone as he caught Emma lightly around the waist, picking her up after she tripped on the rough pavement. "Jesus Christ, what an asshole. If I ever see him again..."

"Should we take her to the hospital or something?" Dean put a hand out as Emma twirled, trying unsteadily to dance, but Carter's hand on hers was enough to keep her on her feet.

Carter contemplated just carrying her; she was difficult to steer and impossible to reason with at this point. "She seems ok. And anyway, I don't think they can do anything about it if she was drugged. Probably needs to just sleep it off. Let's take her home. Her sister can take care of her."

It took a few tries to get Emma into the backseat of the car. She seemed confused and a little paranoid, asking them over and over where they were going and why there were two of them. At length, they convinced her to sit down, and Carter leaned in to buckle the seatbelt around her. He had to put her arm back on her lap twice to get it out of the way before he closed the door.

Carter plopped into the driver's seat while his brother swung in on the passenger side. "What I'd like to do to that asshole," Carter muttered.

When he looked into his rearview mirror to back out, he saw that Emma had already slumped over into unconsciousness. She appeared to be peacefully asleep, curled up against the window. They didn't try to wake her when they pulled up in front of her building. Instead, Dean carried her out of the car while Carter jogged up the steps to open the door.

"Shit. It's locked." He rattled the door again, in case it could be shaken open. He glanced around, but there were no buzzers, and he didn't know which apartment was Emma's in any case. "Call Rachel."

"Here," Dean said, passing Emma's limp form to his brother and digging through his pockets for his phone. He found Rachel's number with no problem, but it didn't even ring, jumping straight to voicemail. "She's got it turned off. Hey, Rachel, it's Dean. Look, your sister got drugged by some shithead at the bar, and we're trying to bring her home. Call me back!" He hung up and looked helplessly at his twin. 

"Well... what do we do until she calls?" Carter asked. "Do you know where that Katie girl lives? We could drop her there."

Dean shrugged. "Don't know her. Never had a class with her. Do you know any of their other friends?"

Carter adjusted his grip on Emma, whose dead weight was heavier than he would have thought. "I don't know. Come on, think. We have to know somebody else she'd be safe with."

They stared at each other, racking their brains. It was a lost cause; she didn't have classes with them, hadn't pledged a sorority and kept mostly to herself. Her friend circle was a complete unknown for them.

"I guess we could take her home with us," Carter said at last. "Although I don't know that she'd thank us for it in the morning. I don't want her to think-"

"Just until her sister calls," Dean said. "Unless we're just going to drop her right here on the steps, I can't think of anything better."

They loaded the girl up in the car again, certain they looked like some sort of kidnappers to anyone watching from their apartment windows, and drove back to the little house they rented at the edge of town.

"It's a shame Rachel bailed," Carter said. "Hope you didn't get too bored."

"Nah, Emma's fun." Dean grinned deviously at his brother. "Maybe next time I'll switch you."

"I get the feeling that Emma and Rachel wouldn't take too kindly to being treated interchangeably," Carter said quickly. He didn't want to switch. "You remember how pissed we used to get when people mixed us up."

"How pissed you used to get. I never gave a damn. It's like when that girl - what's her name - Melanie?" Dean laughed as Carter winced. "It's like when she screamed your name in my bed. Didn't bother me a bit, so long as she kept riding me."

"Well, I would have liked to know she was also screwing you on the side."

"And didn't I tell you as soon as I figured it out? Well, as soon as she left, anyway. Ha. If it's any consolation, she was with you first, so-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Carter interrupted. "It's not particularly a consolation."

Emma made a small noise in the back seat, and they both turned to check on her; she was still unconscious. "Hope she doesn't throw up in the car," Dean said helpfully.

They weren't far from the house, though, and Emma didn't upchuck. Carter parked in the driveway and let Dean take his turn carrying in the sleeping Emma. She stirred when he lifted her off the seat. "Carter?" she asked drowsily.

"Close," Dean said with a grin. He hefted her up and kicked the door shut, then weaved through the mess of their garage and into the house. "She's totally sleeping in your bed, Cart. She's your date."

"Fine. Got no problem with the couch." Carter felt a little bad about the messy state of his room when they brought her in, but he supposed Emma was in no condition to care. And it was infinitely better than Dean's train wreck. Dean tucked the girl in neatly, but Carter pulled the blankets back off with a grunt of annoyance and bent to take off her shoes.

"Do you think she'd prefer to sleep in something more comfortable?" Dean asked, gesturing at Emma's tight outfit. She did look pretty uncomfortable in her bar get-up.

"I think if you take her clothes off at this point, you officially qualify as a pig no matter what your intentions," Carter said decisively, dropping Emma's second shoe and pulling the blankets up to her neck.

"Eh, you're probably right," Dean said. There was a wistful note in his voice that made his twin scowl fiercely at him. "Oh, come on, like you weren't hoping to see her naked tonight."

Carter shoved his brother toward the door, ignoring his brother's continued needling about what he might or might not have expected out of the night and kicking his trashcan over close to the head of the bed. "Let's let her sleep."

***

Emma woke to a pounding head, cotton mouth and eyes that stubbornly refused to open and deal with the morning light streaming in across her face. She moaned, rolled to put her face against the wall - and was startled to find her bed at least twice as wide as it should have been. Her eyes opened immediately.

What the hell? Whose bed was this? Whose house was this? A quick scan of the room suggested it belonged to a guy, and not a particularly neat one. Fighting rising anxiety, she struggled to remember how she'd gotten here. She'd gone out with the Moores, and - and what? Had she really gotten so wasted she couldn't remember anything?

In full panic now, she ripped the covers off and looked over herself. Well, she was fully dressed, aside from her shoes. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and nearly kicked over a small plastic trash can someone had put next to the bed. She was relieved to see she hadn't needed it. There was also a cold glass of water on the bedside table, thoughtfully accompanied by a couple of aspirin. 

Dread tightened her gut, despite the signs that someone had taken care of her. She picked up her shoes like a weapon and crossed to a closed door on the opposite wall from the bed, half afraid to open it and find out who was on the other side.

It turned out to be a bathroom, which Emma hastily backed out of before she had to see what a mess she looked. There were two other doors in the room. One was open and clearly a closet, so she crossed to the other, feeling decidedly unsteady on her feet. Why couldn't she remember how she'd gotten here? She cracked the door and peeked out. There was no one in sight, and the room she was in was at one end of a hallway. She could hear someone moving around in the house at the other end.

Emma glanced behind her, wondering if she should slip out a window instead, but she was too anxious to know the details of what had happened the night before and how on earth she'd ended up - wherever she was. Cautiously, she padded down the hall in her bare feet.

She emerged into a bachelor's living room; shabby hand-me-down furniture, beer signs and band posters on the walls, a big-screen TV with a couple of game consoles hooked up to it. It was open straight into the kitchen, so she could immediately see the person sitting at the breakfast bar eating a huge bowl of cereal. To her relief, it was Dean.

"Ah, she lives!" he cried with a mouthful of Cheerios. He waved his spoon at Emma and gestured for her to come sit next to him. She took the seat shyly, wondering just how badly she had embarrassed herself the night before. And why, why, why she was in their house with total amnesia about the night. "So," Dean began, then swallowed his food so he could speak more clearly, "how are you feeling? Did you take the aspirin?" 

"No, I... I wanted to figure out where the hell I was first," she said with a hollow laugh.

"Ah." He nodded, shoveling another huge spoonful into his mouth. "What all do you remember from last night?"

The way he said it filled her with embarrassment without even knowing what had happened; she was sure she had totally shamed herself. Oh jeez, had she slept with Dean? Was that his bed she had woken up in? She could feel her eyes getting wider and her cheeks getting redder as she contemplated all the ways she could have totally screwed up the plan.

Before she could even try to shape an answer to Dean's question, the front door opened, and Carter plodded in, followed by Rachel.

"Oh, Rachel!" Emma crossed the living room in two strides and stopped her sister in the doorway with a huge hug.

"I guess Dean told you what happened, huh? What an asshole," Rachel said, patting Emma's back with her one free hand. In her other hand was a drink carrier full of coffees, which she held out for Carter to take into the kitchen.

Emma pulled back in confusion. "Dean's an asshole?" Even if he was, what would Rachel know about it?

"No," Rachel said with a surprised laugh. "I guess he didn't tell you. And I figured you wouldn't remember. Here, drink some coffee, wake up."

Emma accepted the hot beverage. Something about Rachel's easy, casual tone made her feel better about the situation, even though she didn't know anything yet. "Ok, so from the beginning, whose bed did I just wake up in, and why?"

"That would be mine," Carter said, "and because some asshole at the bar spiked your drink and we couldn't get hold of your sister."

"Spiked my-" Emma remember the Ed Hardy-shirt guy, the behemoth of a dude who wouldn't leave her alone. "Ooh, that is the last time I drink a fruity drink."

"I can't believe you took a drink from some random guy, Em," Rachel said, pausing in picking the peel off an orange to take a sip of her coffee. "That's, like, Going to Bars 101. Don't drink anything someone else gives you."

Emma felt her face coloring. "Yeah... Pretty stupid, I guess." 

"No worries," Dean said. Finished now with his bowl of cereal, he patted Emma on the shoulder as he went to rinse his dishes in the sink. "We weren't going to let any 'roided up dudes take you home all drugged up. That's our job, apparently."

"Dean," Carter warned, irritated. To Emma, he said, "Don't worry, we drove you here, took off your shoes and left you alone. No funny business."

She believed him. "And Rachel, you...?"

"My phone was dead in my purse, and I didn't even think about it. When I plugged it in this morning, it started blowing up. I guess the guys were calling and texting for a while. Anyway, I headed over as soon as I knew where you were. Carter and I got breakfast. You just sit there; I'm gonna make you a bacon sandwich."

Ah, she loved her sister. She knew Emma's hangover food of choice. Dean had disappeared from the kitchen, but he reappeared a moment later with the glass of water and the aspirin. "You're gonna want this too," he said, setting it next to her on the counter. 

"Bless your sainted heart," Emma said, draining the water. She plodded over to their fridge to refill it so she could take the pills as well. Her clothes felt itchy and rumpled and very slept in. She hated to think what her hair must look like. "Rach, you didn't bring any toiletries with you, did you? I'm feeling decidedly... morning after."

Rachel pointed at her oversized purse on the floor near the door. "Course. Go get cleaned up."

She grabbed the bag, thanking the heavens for her wonderful sister, and ducked back into the room she'd woken up in. She cut into the bathroom, smiling to herself at the pile of dirty clothes laying in front of the vanity. No hampers for Carter, apparently. Within minutes, Emma felt better; teeth brushed, makeup redone, hair pulled back, deodorant on. It could have been in combination with the water and pills, but she felt like a new woman.

Breakfast was ready when she came out, and she ate everything on her plate with gusto. She was the only one eating; the guys had apparently already had breakfast, and Rachel had finished her orange.

"Hey," Dean said, "I didn't hear a 'thank you' for rescuing you, Miss Damsel in Distress." He laughed, but his eyes were intent on Emma.




Two are Halves of One



"Mm," Emma mumbled around her mouthful of food. She swallowed, wiped her mouth, then thanked each of the boys as sincerely as she could. She shuddered just thinking about what might have happened if they hadn't stepped in.

Dean responded to her gratitude with a wide, toothy grin. "Do we get a reward?"

"A...reward?" She hesitated before taking another bite of eggs. After a moment's thought, she grinned. "How about another date? A better one. One where I'm not stoned off my ass."

"And Rachel's not a no-show most of the night," Carter added.

Ah- she hadn't meant to volunteer Rachel too, but of course they would assume she meant both of them. Dean appeared to be considering it in much depth, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Alright. But we get to choose the venue this time. And I say nowhere where meatheads are going to try to steal our dates."

Rachel laughed. "When is this reward date going to be?"

"Today," Carter said. "Now." He looked over at his brother, who nodded.

"Sure, why not," Dean agreed.

Emma looked with dismay down at her outfit. "I should really change. Maybe, like, later tonight or something?"

"I've got a t-shirt and some basketball shorts you can borrow," Carter volunteered. He started walking back to his room before she'd even responded, apparently not taking no for an answer. When he returned with the clothes, he was grinning. "We've been asking you out for three years. No way are we letting you make excuses and get out of it now that you've finally said yes."

The shirt hung tent-like on her and the shorts had to be cinched very tightly to stay on her hips, but they would serve as long as the foursome wasn't hoping to go the opera or eat at a fancy restaurant. "Alright," Emma said as she threw herself down on the couch next to Carter. "What are we doing, then?"

As it turned out, the guys didn't have any one thing in mind. They wandered to the entertainment multiplex downtown and played a few rounds of pool and a couple games of bowling. They raced once on the go-kart track, then again when Dean declared that the first race had been unfair because he'd spent most of his time trapped in one corner where he'd spun out, waiting for an attendant to drag him back out onto the course.

The whole day would have been great fun - except for Rachel.

Emma knew immediately her sister was up to something when she started to put on airs, pretending to be high maintenance and unpleasant most of the day. She whined; she wheedled; she demanded; she was by turns moodily taciturn and obnoxiously loud. The boys were baffled. At first, Dean had tried his hardest to keep his good humor with his date, but it was clear by the time they were looking for a place to eat that she had worn him down. Emma thought she was overdoing it, and she pulled Rachel aside to tell her so when they got to the restaurant.

"Hey, what are you doing out there, ya nut?" Emma demanded, dragging Rachel into the restaurant restroom.

Rachel was unperturbed. "I'm nipping this double date thing in the bud. We've got to get them out of the mindset that I belong with Dean and you belong with Carter."

"Well, I think you're killing Dean. He hasn't smiled for, like, an hour!"

"You'll just have to perk him back up again," Rachel said wickedly, blowing her sister a kiss as she skipped out of the bathroom to rejoin their dates.

It was clear the guys had been having a conference of their own, because they sat up abruptly and went silent as the girls sat down. Carter smiled very sweetly at Emma as she put a napkin in her lap; Dean's eyes were on Emma as well, when she finally looked across the table. Rachel was ignoring them all, texting someone under the table.

"Earth to Rachel," Emma hissed, stepping on her sister's foot. "We're having a conversation here."

"Just a sec," Rachel said without looking up. She didn't stop until the waiter came, and even then she only paused long enough to wave him away without ordering anything.

"Not hungry?" Dean asked. He was still being remarkably good-natured for someone who was probably on the worst date he'd ever had. Rachel just grunted in response, fingers flying over her touchscreen. "Well... alright then." He shot a look at his brother that could have killed.

Dinner was pretty tense as Emma tried to keep up the entire female half of the conversation. It got better once they sort of collectively decided to ignore Rachel; they picked up some of the friendly dynamic they'd had the night before at the bar. Still, Dean waved for the check as soon as the last bite was eaten, and he looked immensely grateful when the waiter returned with his receipt and all four of them could slide out of the booth and head back to the car.

When they got back to the boys' house, Dean slipped into the house without a word of farewell, not that Rachel seemed to notice. Carter lingered outside, and took Emma's hand. "I had a really great time today. Even-" He made a vague gesture with his hand, then cleared his throat and seemed to think better of the way he was going to finish his sentence. "Could I see you again sometime?"

"It's still early. You ready to see me off so soon?" Emma felt her heart clunking away in her chest as she tried to find an opening to get back in that house. Carter seemed surprised, but not unpleasantly so.

"Oh! I just figured, you know, since your sister..." He glanced over at Rachel's car, where Rachel was sitting in the driver's seat talking with great animation into her cell. "...didn't seem to want to stay." He very kindly didn't say that she would probably not be welcome. "But I could definitely drop you off later, if you wanted to stay. We could watch a movie or something."

Emma gave him a dazzling smile. "Sounds like fun. Let me just tell Rach." She practically floated over to the car, elated. Rachel rolled the window down, glancing over Emma's shoulder at Carter before meeting her sister's smile.

"Well? Are you staying?"

Emma tried to be cool about it. "We're gonna watch a movie or something."

Rachel laughed. "Yeah. Or something. Have fuuuuun!" She dragged the word out as she rolled the window back up and started backing out of the driveway, all at the same time. She gave her sister a wink and a wave, and then she was gone.

When she and Carter went in the house, they were greeted by Dean yelling from the couch as he flipped channels. "Oh my god! You owe me, you bastard. That was the worst- Oh!" He had glanced over and realized his brother was not alone. He dropped his head to his chest, eyes shut as he apparently quietly berated himself. "Hey, Emma," he said at last.

Emma waved away his awkwardness, trotting over to sit next to him on the couch. "Dean, I am so sorry about that. I have no idea what got into Rachel. She's not usually that...awful."

Dean laughed, a sound she hadn't heard for most of the day and was glad to hear again. "It's cool. Whatever. So, you're still here? Figured you'd have left with your sister."

"I'm going to take her home later," Carter said, staring his brother down. They spent a moment communicating in that instant, silent way that only siblings and the oldest friends can.

"In that case..." Dean stood up leave, but Emma caught his arm. 

"Oh no, stay! Let's watch a movie."

Dean gave his brother a quick glance, then sat back down. He smiled at Emma. "What movie?"

Carter sat down on Emma's other side, draping his arm across the back of the couch. "Yes, what shall we watch? You pick, Emma." He and his brother appeared to be arguing silently while Emma slid onto the floor in front of the TV, perusing the boys' DVD collection. She picked a horror movie, something she's heard of but never seen, and popped it into their Xbox.

The movie was almost laughably un-scary, but Emma wasn't paying much attention to the film anyway. Every time one of the Moores shifted or made a sound, he drew her attention, and every inch of her skin was tense, waiting for a touch.

It was clear that Carter wasn't sure what his brother was still doing there. He wouldn't kick him out since Emma had specifically asked Dean to stay, but she could sense him trying to determine how the night was going to end, trying to formulate a plan that would put the two of them alone together.

His fingers brushed her shoulder, and his arm behind her on the couch crept closer and closer to being wrapped around her. Not to be outdone, Dean grabbed her leg just above her knee to startle her during all the tense parts of the movie. The attention, the tension - it was all making Emma deliciously lightheaded.

She could see, though, that this wasn't the night to spring her idea on the two of them. They were uncertain of her, uncertain of how each of them should behave with her. At this moment, she could see that Dean could take her or leave her - and was more inclined to back off and give his brother the space he needed - and she would need them both fully invested and interested. 

When the movie ended, she put a little distance between herself and the guys, making it clear that she'd had a good time, but not encouraging either of them to make a move, especially Carter.

"This was fun," she said, pulling on her coat. She spoke carefully to both boys at once. "We definitely need to do it again. Maybe next weekend?"

"Yes," Carter said, almost on top of Dean saying, "Absolutely!"

Carter glanced over his shoulder at his twin so that she couldn't see his face, then extended a hand toward the door. "Shall we?"

They drove companionably, and Emma slipped out of the car when they got to her building before Carter could try to kiss her. She waved a hand behind her as she trotted up her steps. "I'll wash these clothes and get them back to you," she called in farewell.

***

"I knew I wasn't the only devious one," Rachel said smugly from her perch on the bathroom counter. Emma was trying to get ready for work around her sister, leaning into the mirror as she swiped on some mascara.

"I'm not being devious, I just want to make sure the moment's right. I'm seeing them this weekend, and I can get them both... in a better mood."

Rachel grinned, checking her own makeup in the mirror. "You never did congratulate me on my fine performance on that date."

Rolling her eyes, Emma said, "Yeah, that's because Shatner didn't overact as hard as you. I think your disinterest might have actually been a blow to Dean's ego."

"Ha! He probably needs it. Anyone that gorgeous needs to be taken down a peg or two every now and then." She sighed, tucking a stray piece of hair back into her bun. "It's kind of a shame, really. I might not have minded getting a piece of him."

"What? I thought you weren't interested in them! Isn't that why we spent three years putting them off?"

Rachel shrugged. "So they're more fun than I thought they would be. Sue me. Anyway, I wouldn't dream of getting in the middle of your little fantasy, so don't worry." She slid off the vanity and dove into the closet in search of shoes. "Actually," she said, her voice muffled as she dug through the piles on the closet floor, "I think you should be more worried about Carter. He seems..." She emerged from the closet with shoes in hand and blew her hair out of her face. "...kind of possessive?"

Emma chewed on the inside of her lip. "He does seem like a one-man-woman kind of guy. I'm not sure how he'll react to this whole suggestion. And Dean seems like he'll probably back out if he thinks Carter's not up for it."

Rachel patted Emma's cheek. "You just gotta get Dean so into it that he'll convince Carter. And you've got to make sure Carter doesn't start getting the sense that you're his. He already had that look on his face at dinner, like he wanted to steal you away to some cabin in the woods somewhere."

Laughing, Emma toed into her heels. "You make him sound like some sort of psychopath kidnapper." In a heavily accented, breathy male voice, she said, "I vill keep you here forevah. You are mein precious!" 

Both sisters giggled, grabbing their bags and heading out to the car. Rachel dropped Emma at work and skidded on to her class, music pounding through the open sunroof. Rachel always drove like she was being chased by twenty cop cars.

Emma was a terrible employee that day. She couldn't keep her mind off of what had happened and what could happen. All through her hours, she sat at her desk, running imaginary scenarios through her mind and plotting what she would say or do in any eventuality.

Her boss, annoyed, asked if she was feeling alright. Eventually, he shooed her off, telling her to come back the next day with her head in the game. He was gruff, but a sweetheart. He could tell there was something on her mind.

It was only a couple of blocks to her campus, so she elected to walk instead of calling Rachel up. She'd meet her outside her comm law classroom. It was a beautiful day, and a ton of students were milling around on the grass, reading, laughing and throwing frisbees like something straight out of the college brochures. She spotted Dean standing under a tree with a couple of guys she didn't recognize and waved, smiling.

He gave her a smile that had probably coerced a dozen girls into his bed and waved back. He held up a finger asking her to wait, said a few words to the guys he was with, and jogged over.

"Hey, long time no see," he said with a grin. "What're you up to?"

"Just got off work," she hedged. "Coming to meet Rachel. You, uh, just hanging out?"

He nodded, still smiling. "Listen, uh-"

"Emma!" Rachel came bustling down the sidewalk, cheerfully greeting them from several paces away. Emma smirked as Dean straightened up slightly, like he was steeling himself for her twin's arrival. "Why aren't you at work? I was just on my way to pick you up."

"Oh, Doug let me off early. I was like a zen master of focus today." Emma raised an eyebrow at her sister. "I was just asking Dean what-" She turned and saw that Dean was making his escape, waving over his shoulder at them as he skittered back up the lawn to his waiting friends.

The sisters met eyes and laughed. "Maybe I did overdo it," Rachel said.

***

Carter glanced out the front window again, squinting into the darkening evening. There was no sign of headlights.

"Dude, she's coming. Chill out," Dean called from where he sprawled on the couch. "If you look out that window one more time, I swear to god I'm just going to lock you outside, and you can wait for her there."

Carter let the curtains drop and went to the fridge, opening the door and looking blankly inside. "What the hell, man? I just got a six pack this afternoon. Why are there only two left?"

"Maybe I thought Emma would be glad to spend some time here not inebriated," Dean quipped. "I drank it."

"Asshole." Carter grabbed one of the remaining bottles out of the fridge and popped the cap off, draining half of it in one swig. "Jesus, why am I so nervous? She asked to come over."

"I'm more curious about why I'm nervous," Dean said lightly. Carter could see now that his brother was definitely buzzed. "Or I was anyway."

"Maybe it's because you're hanging around here cockblocking me instead of getting lost like I told you to?"

Dean raised his hands defensively. "Hey, she said she'd see us this weekend. And I am not about to let the lady down."

Carter snorted, then a thought occurred to him. "You don't think she means to bring Rachel, do you?"

Carter's twin sat up sharply, scowling. "God, I hope not. I could not believe what a bitch she was that whole day. Hasn't she always seemed, I don't know, more normal than that?" 

Carter shrugged and finished his beer. "I don't know, man. Maybe we just assumed she was cool because she's so hot." 

"They're so hot," Dean corrected.

"Watch it," Carter said, dropping onto the other couch. "That's my date you're talking about now."

"She's mostly been our date, really," Dean said. "And if I recall, you nominated yourself for the position when we picked her up. Emma hasn't actually picked you."

Carter scowled. "So you're going to sit here and be a pain in my ass all night trying to find out if she might like you better?"

Laughing, Dean threw up his hands helplessly, "Hey, all I'm saying is, let's leave it up to the lady's choice. I like her, you like her - unless you want to duke it out, seems like we should just follow her lead."

Carter rolled his eyes. "You're lucky you're my brother, or I'd've already beat your ass and thrown you out of here."

"Like you could!"

Someone knocked on the front door, and both guys froze. Dean started to stand up, but Carter shoved him back down on the couch and trotted over to let Emma in. "Hey," he said as he opened the door for her. Always eloquent. He gestured for her to come in, staring openly at her. She looked great; she was wearing some sort of sweater-shirt-dress thing that barely came down over her butt, and tight leggings underneath. He fought the urge to grab her.

"Hey yourself. Do you guys have anything to drink? I'm parched." She didn't wait for Carter to get anything for her, just marched over to the fridge and opened the doors to both the fridge and freezer.

"Ooh, what's this?" She hauled a frosty, half-empty bottle of vodka out of one of the freezer shelves, holding it up like a trophy. Carter had no idea that stuff was in there; it was probably something Dean had gotten for a girl. "Hmm. No mixers, though. What do you think, shots?"

Carter's eyebrows shot up. Apparently this wasn't going to be a casual, movies-on-the-couch sort of evening. Dean hopped up off the couch and snatched the booze from her, clearly happy enough with the turn of events.

"Do you need shots, Dean?" he asked pointedly. His brother was clearly already feeling fine.

"I don't know, mom. You clearly do." Dean shoved the cold bottle into Carter's hands and started digging through cabinets, looking for shot glasses. Emma took it back, pulled the stopper and took a swig. She coughed, laughed and handed the bottle back to Carter.

Well, if it was going to be that kind of night, so be it. Carter knocked back a mouthful, then grimaced at the bottle. "Raspberry vodka?"

Dean laughed and grabbed the booze. "Ladies love the fruity stuff," he said, taking a drink and passing the bottle to Emma. "Right, Emma?"

"Actually," she said before downing another gulp, "I'm not a huge fan. But since I'm at the mercy of your stash..." She handed over the vodka and glided into the living room. "Do you guys have some cards or something? Let's play a game."

They played poker at the kitchen table, betting drinks rather than chips. In two hands, Dean was clearly drunk and the vodka was almost gone. Emma stopped shuffling and thrust the last of the vodka at Carter. "You finish this. Dean and I are going to go dig up a better game than this."

"We could just play strip poker," Dean joked, but Emma shook her head and laughed.

"You didn't have quite enough vodka for that."

The board games in their closet weren't necessarily better, so they played a couple of dice games and made a brief attempt at truth or dare, but Dean's suggestions were all too outrageous and Emma's too tame. Carter's buzz started to wear off, and he worried that Emma was getting bored.

He shouldn't have been worried, though. Emma could take care of herself. She drifted back into the living room, punching buttons on their sound system until she got to the radio.

"My friend is DJing at Cabo's tonight, and KXVX is out there live," she said, clicking through the channels until she found the one she wanted. With a flick of her wrist she turned the volume all the way up until the house was pounding with dance music.

As she kicked off her shoes and started undulating to the beat, Dean was quick to join her in her barefoot-living-room dancing, and Carter tossed the empty vodka bottle in the trash before sliding over onto their imaginary dance floor too. He leaned to talk into Emma's ear so that he could be heard over the music, "You don't want to head out to Cabo's and see your friend? There'll be plenty of dancing there."