With the antique shop being just down the road from the bar it was the work of a short jog for Rose and I to get ourselves to the scene of the crime. A cop car and an ambulance were pulled up in front of the old farmhouse, washing the faded wood in flashing neon.

“Mr. Fairweather!” Rose yelled as soon as we came into range. A middle aged man engaged in conversation with a police officer turned, waving her closer.

“Where is--”

“Getting checked out,” he replied, pointing towards the flashing ambulance. “He’s alright, got a knock to the back of the head--”

Rose was off and sprinting, seeking out her fiance. I followed in her wake and we discovered Allen, sitting upright and looking disgruntled in the back of the ambulance.

“I’m fine,” he growled up at the EMT who was ducked over him, trying to examine the back of his head. “You can stop groping me anytime.”

“Allen!” Rose sprinted towards him. He turned, grimacing a little at whatever ministrations he was receiving.

“I told Dad I’d call you myself,” he said and she rushed to him, grabbing his arm and looking panic stricken.

“What happened? Are you OK?”

“Someone broke into the store after I’d locked up. Bastard came up behind me and knocked me out, then went to town on our inventory.”

“What’d they take?” I asked, wondering what kind of valuables the rural shop could have. Fortunately I was drowned out by Rose repeating her inquest as to Allen’s health.

“He’s going to be just fine,” the EMT said, straightening out. He turned and flashed Rose a lopsided smile. “Couple days of rest and relaxation and he’ll be good as new.” A pair of hazel eyes zeroed in on me and the smile widened.

“Oh, hey there, firebug,” Reid Decker, apparent EMT, said to me. Due to the volume of beer I had consumed that evening all I could do was gape at him mutely.

“You two know each other?” Allen said, raising a brow. He focused his gaze on me, smirking. “Jesus, you do have a type, Clarke.”

I glared at him-- clearly this wasn’t the kind of head injury that was going to improve his personality. Reid, at least, seemed to not pick up on the underlying meaning.

“Harper and I just met today, as I was heading in for my shift, actually. Figured I’d be neighborly and introduce myself,” he said, winking at me.

“Oh,” I said. “I hope I didn’t make you late or whatever.”

“Not at all,” he replied, smiling easily. He seemed to do that a lot. I wondered if he was even capable of frowning.

“Ally!” A new voice cut through the awkwardness, running shrilly towards us. A middle aged woman, with hair made even more shockingly red in the emergency lights, ran at Allen, knocking Rose out of the way and grabbing Allen in a fierce hug. Even Reid, a trained professional, took a surprised step back.

“Oh Ally, my baby,” the woman who could only be Mrs. Fairweather said, rocking her son back and forth in a way that I couldn’t imagine was great for a head injury.

“Ma, I’m fine,” Allen grumbled, trying without much success to push her off.

“He really is, Mrs. Fairweather,” Reid interjected helpfully. Mrs. Fairweather turned sharply, as if realizing other people were around for the first time.

“Oh, hello, Reid,” she said coolly. “He certainly will be fine, once I’ve had a chance to look after him. You’re staying at the house tonight, young man.”

“Ma, I’m fine,” Allen repeated.

“I’ll stay up with him,” Rose added. She looked to Reid. “If it’s a concussion he needs to stay awake, right?”

Reid glanced at Allen. “Well, he actually doesn’t exhibit any symptoms of a concussion… but I suppose you can never be too careful.” Allen had clearly had enough. He rolled his eyes, pushing himself up from the back of the ambulance and doing his best to disentangle himself from his mother-- he managed to stand up with her gripping only his arm.

“Thanks, not-a-doctor,” he said. “Rose, let’s go. Your car’s here?”

“Yes…” Rose began, “but I’m not sure either of us should be driving…” Rose and I exchanged guilty glances. While I was quickly sobering up from this experience, I wasn’t there yet.

“Then it’s settled, you’re coming home with me. You can come too, Rose, sweetie,” Mrs. Fairweather added.

“Can Harper come?” she asked. Though I hadn’t often seen the elder Fairweathers in my previous stay in Wild Haven, what little time we had spent together had not been my exact cup of tea. A slumber party with Allen’s parents was one of the last things I wanted to experience.

“You know what, I’m pretty starving,” I said. “If it’s OK with you I’ll stick around and grab some food, and then I can just drive your car home, after.”

“You sure?” Rose asked, and when I nodded emphatically she dug her keys out of her purse and handed them over to me. “If you go back to the Haven, can you explain to Miles why I just ran out?” I nodded, and as she leaned in to hug me she whispered, “And put your food on my tab, seriously. I owe you one for this.”

I squeezed her tightly and when we broke apart it was to see that Mrs. Fairweather had already started to lead her son away; with one last wave Rose dashed after them. I was suddenly left alone with the boy next door.

“You sure you’re OK to drive?” Reid asked, glancing at the key ring in my hand. I shook my head.

“Oh definitely not right now. But after I stuff a burger and some water in my face I will be.”

“The Haven Burger is real good,” he said solemnly. “Drunk or sober you’ll probably want more than one.”

“Man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” I replied just as seriously. He cracked first, his lopsided grin returning to its natural state.

“Well, I’ve got to get back to work, but if you find yourself not in good shape, Miles can hook you up with the only taxi in town. I mean this in the nicest way possible when I say I don’t want to see you again tonight.”

“I’m definitely sobering up already because I followed your logic. Here’s to not seeing you again,” I said, giving him a mock salute and turning to walk back towards the bar.

“Harper,” he called after me. I turned my head and he was smirking at me, leaning up against the doors of the ambulance. “Tonight. I said I don’t want to see you again tonight.”

I kept walking, picking up my pace. My cheeks were flushed from the alcohol lingering in my system and the exertion of running here in the first place. And those were the only possible reasons why.