"Hello, I'm Clay." Those were the first words out of his mouth, paired with a cheeky grin that would send any girl swooning. He held his hand out to her and she shook it, her eyes never leaving his; he leaned in to speak to her so he could be heard over the loudness that surrounded them. He made her feel like she was the only girl in the room.

"It's nice to meet you; I'm Alex."

"Is that short for something?" Clay asked, his mouth quirked into a larger smile. She could feel his breath on her cheek and it didn't make her want to jolt back and run away, either. The tall, portlyish man beside her had his back turned to her and was talking to some women reporters, making them giggle and check their teeth in the glare of the camera.

She smiled, "Alexandra, I'm told. But I haven't gone by that since kindergarten."

"Alexandra," he repeated, trying it out; she liked the sound of his voice when he said her name. "I like it. Nobody calls you that anymore?" He took a step towards her and straightened up as a group of tittering girls walked past them. They were now almost touching, they were so close.

"My grandmother," Alex replied, making a face. "But she's the only one."

Clay crinkled his nose and his smile now reached his eyes, which twinkled in the spotlights all around them, "You don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

Alex tipped her head back and laughed; as if she minded, "You can call me whatever you want."

His eyebrows, which often had a life of their own, rose into his hairline and he licked his dry lips, "Well, I'll do that, then."

A woman's voice broke through their little meeting and his head jolted up upon being bellowed at, "CLAY!" He looked at Alex briefly, giving her a "I'm sorry" kind of look before he smiled and then walked away.

The man beside her turned around, putting his hand in the small of her back. "Who was that?" He asked, giving her a little push so they could get out of the throng of reporters and get inside.

"That was Clay Aiken," Alex answered, sounding quite far away.

"Who?" Mark asked, looking over his shoulder as Clay was devoured into a sea of screaming girls. "He's quite popular, by the looks of it."

"He's from American Idol," Alex replied, poking Mark in the stomach. He cringed and laughed.

"I'm not American," Mark stated obviously. "How would I know?"

"You wouldn't," she laughed; they were inside the building now and being directed to their seats. They were apparently seated with the rest of Mark's group and their dates, near the front of the auditorium. She sat down beside him, crossing her legs and heaving a great sigh; she didn't particularly like going to these types of things, award shows, because she was often shoved into the limelight when she'd rather have just watched from home in comfortable pajamas with a bowl of popcorn in her lap. But Mark insisted she accompany him, as he claimed he didn�t want anyone else with him.

"You were flirting with him," Mark said after a moment, his lips nearly on her ear; his breath blew her hair, tickling her.

"I wasn't," Alex replied, turning to stare at him; the rest of the band looked over, wondering if this would be another lovely and quite public break up.

Mark snorted, "You were, too. Or was he flirting with YOU?"

"Neither," she answered haughtily, turning away from him. "Now will you drop it, please?"

The empty seat beside her was suddenly filled and she turned to see who was now occupying the aisle seat, only to come face to face with stunning, sparkling green eyes and a crinkly smile. "Hello, again." The southern accent was rather prominent now that there was no background noise. The houselights were going down and the show was about to start. "Apparently we're seated together. I didn't realize I'd be in the Euro Pop section."

"Better not say that too loud," she laughed. "They've got hefty kicks."

"And right hooks," Mark said, leaning over Alex to shake Clay's hand. "Mark Feehily. Westlife."

"Clay Aiken. Clay Aiken." He grinned and shook Mark's hand; Alex held back giggles.

Mark shot him his most menacing look, but Clay shook it off and turned towards the stage; Alex glared at Mark in the dark, but he ignored her. She was used to him being jealous and stupid, but not where an obvious gay guy was concerned. Or perhaps she just thought him to be gay, and he really wasn't. Oh well, she thought, there's no way you'll ever know.

The boys of Westlife were performing their new single halfway through the show which meant that Alex had about twenty minutes by herself sitting beside a very friendly Clay. He was very fun to talk to, and joke with, but she kept shooting apprehensive glances towards the back of the stage where Mark was, no doubt, steaming. His bandmates claimed he'd never been so possessive of a girlfriend before, and were shocked that he was so jealous, but she wondered if it was only because he didn't trust her. In fact, she had a feeling that was exactly why. And just because she had a lot of male friends, who she spent a relatively large amount of her free time with.

"So," Clay said companionably during one of the breaks; the boys had just finished and were probably on their way back to their seats. "How long have you been under Mark's supervision?"

Alex laughed, "Not long."

"He's not your older brother?"

She shook her head, "No, no. We were friends for a while. I'm, uh, Bryan's cousin. Bryan's the big blonde one with the pregnant wife."

"Ah, yes," Clay chuckled. "You sure don't look much like him. Well, besides the hair, that is."

Alex flipped her hair back, "Yes, there is that. I am his American cousin. Sort of like an exchange student type thing. My parents exchanged with his aunt and uncle for their son, Avery. Because, I guess, he wanted to go to school in America, and I wanted to travel abroad." She shrugged, "The end."

"Are you and he dating?" Clay asked, glancing around to check the coast was clear.

"Yes," Alex said hesitantly, wondering why he'd want to know. "Aren't you and Ryan Seacrest a thing?"

"I see you have access to the internet," Clay chuckled, shaking his head. "No, I'm not gay. Neither is he, as far as I know. So I guess you wouldn't want to go to an after party with me, would you?"

"I would, but I can't." She frowned, "I'm sorry. You seem really nice and you're very cute...but..."

"Hey, our job's done so we can take off," Mark said, coming up to them. "You ready?" He glanced meaningfully at Clay and then his eyes traveled back to Alex's.

She shrugged, "I guess, the show is nearly over, anyway. Um, can you give me two seconds?"

Reluctantly Mark agreed, telling her he'd go round up the limo and meet her out front. She turned to Clay as soon as he'd gone; he was smiling in a sad sort of way at her. "You want my number? Just in case, you know, my status changes?"

"Will it, in the weeks to come?"

"Days, more like," Alex replied, laughing and pulling a pen from her purse. "I'm sorry I haven't got a piece of paper...but..." She took Clay's hand in hers and jotted her number on his palm.

Clay looked a little surprised at her forwardness, but didn't comment; instead he moved out of the way so she could get out onto the aisle. "I'll talk to you soon," she said, smiling.

"Yeah, I'll give you a call." He watched her go, wondering if she really would break up with the guy she seemed so comfortable with. Half of him didn�t want her to, just because he didn�t want to be the one to take all the blame; but people didn�t break up just because there was someone new, there had to be more reason behind it. At least, he hoped there was, for his sake just as much as hers.

*

It was one week later when Alex was sitting in bed with a book propped up on her lap and a mug of hot chocolate on her bedside table; the stereo was playing sad love songs that Alex wasn�t paying attention to. The sound was really only to drown out the silence that had bestowed her since that dreary night about four days ago when she had finally cut Mark loose. This time, it was for good, and they both knew it.

There was finality in the way they kissed goodbye and the awkward way they hugged. He was upset, but he�d move on�just like he always did.

As for Alex, she would find someone new; though the one she couldn�t stop thinking about hadn�t called her yet.

The rain that was steadily falling outside the window was not unusual for London, but still she could do with a bit of sun; even if it was just a ray of light shining through the dark clouds, it would be appreciated.

She turned the page and heard a faint ringing in the distance; her head jolted up and she bolted from the warmth of her bed, catapulting herself onto the hall phone.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the receiver and said in her calmest voice, �Hello?�

�Alexandra?�

�Granny?�

He laughed; it made goosebumps appear across her skin and she smiled. �No, it�s Clay. Aiken. Of Clay Aiken.�

Alex couldn�t help but giggle, �Oh, sorry. As I said, she�s the only one to call me by my full name�and you do sound an awful lot like her.� She sat down in the chair beside the table and curled her feet up under her.

�Do I?�

A smile played on her lips, �No, not really.�

�You�re funny, but I suppose you know that.� He laughed, �Anyway. I was wondering�ah�what you were doing.�

She twirled the phone cord around her finger, �Reading.�

�Anything good?�

�Eh. Not really. Just something to pass the time while London is washed away.�

�It�s raining there again? It was raining when I left.�

�It rains all the time,� she chuckled. �So I guess you�re not still here, then?�

�Nah, I�m in Ireland.�

She inhaled sharply, �Ireland? Why?�

Clay�s eyebrows knitted in confusion, �Um, I�ve got a show tonight. With the European Idols. It�s this whole big promotional thing.�

�Ah,� Alex coughed. �When will you be back?�

�Next year, possibly.�

She laughed, �That�s a very long time off.�

�It is, yeah. Which is why I�m calling, really. I was wondering if you were single again?�

�As a matter of fact, I am.�

�Fantastic, what are you plans on the 29 of August, 2028?�

Alex bit her bottom lip, squinting, �I think I�m washing my hair that day, actually.�

�Oh, bad luck.�

�Yeah, you need a four leaf clover or something.�

�Maybe I can find one here.�

The grin that was on her lips would not disappear, �Maybe.�

�How about next Tuesday?�

�I�m probably not doing anything.�

�Great, then how about having dinner with me? Or lunch. Or a snack. I don�t really care what we do.�

Alex snickered, �You�re not that hard to please, are you?�

�No way, I�m a Southern boy.�

�You certainly sound it,� she took a deep breath. �How about I give you my address and you come by here�and we can go from there?�

�Sounds good to me.�

�Brilliant.� She gave him her address and any landmarks around her building which might help him find her.

�Did you realize you use a lot of British slang, though your accent is remarkably American?�

�No, I hadn�t noticed. I guess it just comes from living here, around the locals and such.�

�Guess so. Alex, I�m sorry, I�m being pulled away, so I�ve gotta go. Um, I�ll see you on Tuesday, then.�

�I�ll see you then.� She put the phone down, and the smile wouldn�t dissipate for several days, even as the rain poured steadily down and her pipes froze and the heater decided to quit working.

*

It wasn�t like Alex to be rummaging through her closet and throwing clothes out at random; in fact it was more like her to grab something from the hamper, throw it on and then grab a huge sweatshirt to complete the outfit. Today, however, she had showered just after she�d gotten up (a first) and hadn�t bothered to switch on the television to watch a bit of BBC before going off to work; she had the day off, and as such, had a day of pampering in mind so she�d be all good to go when Clay arrived later that afternoon.

She�d never been this nervous in her entire life; none of her clothes seemed good enough and she couldn�t find her favorite boots, nor her favorite leather jacket, which was hanging on a hook in the living room, right where�d she left it.

�I have nothing to wear,� she muttered, tossing a few pairs of socks out of the safety of their draws. �Oh, my god. I can�t believe I just said that.�

The phone rang, interrupting her conversation with herself, so she huffed out the living room to land on the sofa and answer it with an aggravated, �What?�

�What�s the matter with you? Is that always how you answer a phone?� The haughty Irish voice was the last one she wanted to hear; she sighed and dropped onto the sofa, rolling her eyes. �Your surrogate parents didn�t teach you any manners?�

�I have nothing to wear, Bry, and I�m positive you know what that feels like, even though you own about six thousand articles of clothing.�

�You�ve lost your lumberjack shirts and combat boots, have you?�

�Shut up. What do you want, anyway? Why are you calling me? You only ever call to chastise me about things Mark has told you, most of which were untrue.�

�I just ran into a fellow called Clay on the street, with Mark, and Mark had a bit to say to, about and around him.�

Alex made a face, having not a clue what he was saying. �Um, so? And you must be in town, instead of far away like I thought, and hoped, you were. It�s not like I don�t want to see you, it�s just Mark�you know.�

�I know, Al, it�s all right. We were closer than you ever imagined, being directly outside your building. I wanted to come and see you before we took off tomorrow, and Mark was stalking me.�

�Where are you now?� Alex asked, horrified, as she crossed to the window. She pulled the shades back and looked down and across the street, but couldn�t see anyone but daily shoppers.

�Hotel,� Bryan grunted. �Anyway. I thought you ought to know that Mark told Clay to stay away from you. He threatened to tear his red hair out, or something.�

�That bastard,� Alex stated angrily. �I�ve gotta go. Thanks for calling. Bye.� She hung up and threw the phone into a chair before racing through the apartment trying to get herself together.

Alex was running her fingers through her hair and pulling a sweater over her head when the doorbell sounded. She screamed, tugged her shoes on and answered it, praying to god it wasn�t Mark, or Bryan, or anybody else besides Clay.

He stood there, grinning from ear to ear, holding a bouquet of flowers and wearing a tailored black suit that hung loosely and snug at the same time. She laughed when he handed the flowers over with a cheeky grin, because she could practically see her reflection in the shine of his shoes.

�What�s so funny? Do I have something in my teeth?� He picked at his perfectly sparkling white teeth and handed over the multi-colored tulips, whose fragrance wafted into Alex�s nose; she smiled.

She took them, sniffed and giggled, �No, you haven�t got anything in your teeth. Though they should come with a warning label. Danger: Blinding.�

Clay�s eyebrow rose, �Very funny.�

�I thought so. Wanna come in so I can put these in water?�

He nodded and followed her into the apartment, closing the door behind him. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and let his green eyes travel around looking at the trinkets around, and the family photos on the wall. He noted the lack of pictures of herself and Mark and felt himself smile unintentionally; he didn�t know their past, or the definition of their relationship, but he knew he didn�t like it one way or another. He also knew it was none of his business, so he didn�t ask about it.

Alex set the flowers delicately in a vase and turned around to face him, leaning against the counter. �So, um, where are we going?�

�Anywhere you want,� Clay smiled at her.

She nodded, and muttered, �Haven�t ever heard that before,� even though she hadn�t meant to say it, at least not aloud.

Clay cocked his head to the side slightly and looked at her, surveying her, �No one�s ever let you choose where you want to go?�

�Nope,� she affirmed, pushing herself off the counter and walking past him. �Let me just grab my jacket and we can get out of here.�

�Alex, what happened with Mark?� He walked out into the living room to see her standing there with her jacket draped over her arm; she stared at him, taken aback.

�Mark was overly protective,� Alex said by way of an answer. �Maybe we should go to a movie, since it�s raining.�

Clay took a step towards her and her eyebrows rose, but she didn�t move. �He threatened to pull all my hair out if I didn�t stay away from you. I�m not scared of him, really, but he�s a large guy�a bit taller than myself, and a bit heftier. I only weigh fifty pounds, when wet.� He paused, smiling a little at her. "And I may look like I�ve got muscle, but that's all lighting and the cut of my t-shirts. I have them specially made to make me look buff.�

Alex laughed and smiled fondly at him, �You�re something else, you know that?�

�I�ve been told that, to be honest.�

�He won�t hurt you,� Alex promised, suddenly serious. �He wouldn�t dare. He�s all talk, anyway.�

He took another step towards her, leaning out to tuck a piece of stray hair behind her ear in a most intimate gesture that almost made Alex�s knees go weak, �Yeah, I�ve heard that before, and I ended up with a broken nose and a black eye.�

�I�ll talk to him if it�ll make you feel better, but he�s not a violent person. He�ll find some other girl to fulfill his fancies and he�ll forget all about me.�

�If I were him, I�d find that really hard to do,� Clay said, pursing his lips together in a sweet smile. �Since that�s all I can seem to do, since I met you.�

�Same here,� she barely whispered, having lost the ability to speak it seemed.

Clay smiled warmly and cupped her chin in his hands, pulling her closer to him; their lips met in a soft kiss that sent shivers down her spine. Behind her eyelids she saw sparks and fireworks and everything else clich� as she melted into his embrace, into him.

When he pulled away and dropped his hands to his sides, her eyes remain closed as she savored the moment, committing every second of it to her memory. She opened her eyes eventually, slowly, and gazed at him; his green eyes were watching her, admiring her and she felt her cheeks color from the attention. �Well,� she said, and coughed.

He laughed, �Maybe we should order in? And rent a movie?�

Alex closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying herself against him, �That�s the best suggestion I�ve heard in a long time.�

She could feel his laughter vibrating against his chest and she felt like this is how it�s supposed to be, like everything was okay with the world and exactly how it should be. She sighed happily and snuggled deeper into him, feeling his arms wrap around her.

�Clay?� Alex asked after a few moments of silence.

His voice was sleepy and faraway when he answered, �Yeah?�

�You�re stepping on my foot.�

Clay hopped back, looking horrified, �I am SO sorry. I just completely ruined this romantic moment with my big ole clown feet.� He shook his head, �Are you okay?�

Alex let out a little laugh, �I�m fine.�

�How can I make it up to you?� He asked, pouting slightly with a twinkle in his eyes.

�I can think of a few things,� Alex replied, pressing her lips to his.

After a second, he pulled away, �I was thinking more along the lines of buying you stuff.�

She hit him playfully on the arm, �Oh, stop it.�

�Why? Money can buy you love, I�ve learned that recently.�

�Haven�t you ever heard that song? By The Beatles?�

�Of course I have,� Clay replied, sounding falsely affronted. �But they�re wrong.�

�Oh ho, no. The Beatles are never wrong.�

Clay grinned at her, �Let�s just get some food. You must have to shut up while you chew.�

�No, I talk with my mouth full,� she said, grabbing her keys and heading for the door.

�That�s not very ladylike,� Clay stated, crinkling his nose at her.

�Who said I was ladylike?�

�No one, I guess. I just assumed---�

Alex smiled when he opened the door for her, �You�re a gentleman. Gentleman always assume too much about a lady�s behavior.�

�That�s not true,� Clay responded, his voice high pitched. He put his arm around her as they headed for the stairs. �I suppose I�ll just have to teach you how to be a lady, will I?�

�Probably, and I�m a really slow learner.�

Clay kissed her quickly and then took off down the stairs, �Lucky for you that I�ve got plenty of time, then.�

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