Usual Disclaimer: The words are mine, the characters are Rupert Holmes' and some simian channel's.
Scott downed his third glass of beer. Or was it his fourth? He had lost track. The last thing he remembered was kissing Betty, and then...nothing until he got to the bar. NOT O'Malley's. It was too much a part of the station, and he didn't wan't to have anything to do with WENN right now. No, that wasn't true, he admitted. He wanted to be a part of their lives again. But he couldn't. He screwed up. Big time.
Especially with Betty. Scott shut his eyes. He could picture how his actions would have worked on at least ten other girls. They would feel flattered that he went to so much trouble just to meet them. A forged letter would seem like a love note in their eyes. If it had been any other girl.
Betty wasn't any girl. She was Betty Roberts, upstanding, honest to a fault. It could be downright infuriating, bumping into her idealistic nature. How could he imagine she would ever care for him?
He drank another glass. What was he thinking that kiss would do? That she would just melt in his arms? Burst into tears, and say 'I know it's wrong to love you, but I can't help it'? The words made him laugh even harder.
"Sherwood, you've been listening to too many of her radio scripts." The bartender, used to all sorts of behavior, didn't blink an eye when Scott spoke out loud. He just refilled the glass Scott handed him.
Finally, the beer was working. The pain was no longer as sharp. Just a steady ache. Scott tossed some money on the counter and headed out the door.
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