a heart in barcelona - a carrison fanfiction

Chapter 5 - The Aftermath

for angie

It was a queer, sultry friday night, the night of the wrap party for The Empire Strikes Back, and Carrie and Harrison had silently agreed to keep their distance, as rumors of their involvement didn't show signs of dying down.

"Carrie, so glad you could make it!" one of the producers joins her right at the entrance.

"Couldn't miss it," she smiles satisfactorily at her employer.

"Great, great," he smiles back, looking around the room. "Enjoy the party." he says, as he walks away, distracted by this one and that.

"Enjoy the party," she huffs to herself.

The last few days Carrie's been in hiding in her London apartment, not wanting to go back home to LA, to be lectured by her mother, nor to New York, to Paul. As if he'd still want her after the news broke.

"Carrie!" Marilou rushes towards her. "Finally a familiar face." She exhales.

"Hey," Carrie hugs Mark's wife, and she squeezes back.

"I lost Mark right about the time we walked in," she laughs, though curtly. "It's fine, I found you now!"

"Yeah," Carrie smiles, though her head is still dizzy.

"So, how've you been?" they sit down around a table, Marilou sipping on her wine. "Mark mentioned you've been sick lately."

"He did?" She mentally kicks Mark. "I guess I've been. I'm feeling good today, though." another smile, a smaller, edgier one, forms on her lips.

"Hum," Marilou ponders. "Alright."

"How are you? How is little Nathan?" Carrie turns her body towards Marilou's, crossing her legs.

"He's good, won't stop screaming and crying, but I think that's normal." She replies. "I must find Mark so he can show you some pictures!" She promptly gets up to find her husband, leaving Carrie to herself.

Not long after that, a voice echoes behind her:

"Hey, kid." it's deep, raspy and slightly demanding. It's Harrison.

"Harrison," her tone is monochromic.

"What happened to "Hello, lover"?" He teases, but there's no hint of smile or playfulness in his voice.

"Take a seat, lover," she obliges. "Better?" She raises one eyebrow.

"Nah, I don't want to sit down." He shoots back. "They're playing our song, care to dance?" He cocks one eyebrow at her, but doesn't offer his hand.

"Save it," she waves him away. "We don't even have a song," she looks at him straight in the eye and listens closely. "Unless you and I have slow danced to "Take me On" before without my knowing."

He grins.

"We'll wait for the next one, kid." he promises. "I have the whole night."

"Well, I don't. If you'll excuse me," she gets up to leave, but his hand on her arm stops her.

"Carrie, I know you're hiding something." His breath is hot against her ear. "Be a good girl and tell me." he's still gripping her arm, and she inhales shakily. How does he know?

"Well, hotshot, I have positively no idea what you're talking about." She frees herself and puts her hands on her hips. "Please, let me go." her tone is strong and assertive.

"Please, you dug yourself a hole and haven't come out in days. And I know you can't resist me for more than thirty two hours, we've tried that before." it could sound like he's teasing her, making her deliberately uncomfortable, but his voice is very much matter-of-factly.