song-fic loosely based around 'baby come on' by +44. lyrics are bolded.

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she's a pretty girl, she's always falling down

It's cold. She remembers that much, anyway. She feels the cool wooden panels smooth against the small of her back as she makes her way through the cramped apartment, desperately seeking an escape. She's lightheaded but not in a good way... in fact, in a very bad way. The music screeches to a halt and the motionless bodies rise up from their spots on the couches. What the bloody hell? What's going on? Come on, let's get outta here. People are getting up faster now, a lot faster than before. Faster than she could comprehend. Were they really getting busted? She was 26 years old.. much too old for college parties, at least in her opinion. She couldn't exactly say no to the younger boy she may or may not have fancied in her Introduction to Physics class though when he asked her to swing by on this fateful Friday night. It's not like she was expecting anything at all, she kept telling herself. He was five years her junior and was somewhat involved with a girl she recognized from one of her sociology classes. Under normal circumstances she would politely decline, citing a research paper as her reason to stay in. But tonight? She wasn't really sure why she said yes. She just knew it felt... right.

"Everyone get out! Come on! You on the floor, yeah, get up! I'm not losing this place on account of you lot!"

Suddenly that blonde haired boy from her physics class (Theo she thought his name was), didn't seem so great. No, not at all. And he was certainly involved with that other ginger from her sociology class she realized as he shoved her out of the way unapologetically in an attempt to clear out his living room. Surprisingly enough she didn't care... at least she didn't care enough to do something about it. That uneasy lightheadedness swept over her again as she slid down the cool panelling. Her conservative blue top was gliding down with her ever so slightly, her hands trying to steady herself. She hadn't drank a lot, she never does at things like this. But tonight felt different...

"Oi come on ginger, get outta here!"

A first year she recognized from one of the chemistry labs she instructed offered her a hand. Would he recognize her in this state? Her hair wasn't in its usually tidy bun. Her eyes were lined with black kohl. Her clothing suggested something a little more risque than the iodine scented lab the young man would probably recognize her from. She extended her limp arm towards him.

"Ms Lewis? What are you... what are you doing here?"

The boy's name was Wesley. She should have cared more about her pristine reputation but oddly enough, didn't.

"I could ask you the same question," she replied, straightening herself up and dusting off her plain black skirt. "Now I suggest you leave before... before the police arrive, yeah?" She was slurring her words a little bit... she could feel it on her tongue. The boy nodded vigorously and headed towards the door, his girlfriend in tow. She managed to pick up the black clutch she brought with her, small enough to carry her phone and some change for a cab or something in case she needed it.

The stairs leading down towards the alleyway were a bit of a struggle in her state and paired with three inch heels it was even more difficult. After making her way down the first four of five (out of approximately thirty), she kicked off her shoes and decided to carry them instead. The metal shone cold and dark beneath her pale feet as the florescent lightbulbs blazed overhead. She could still hear the odd patter of feet make their way across the upper level she had just left, and every time she did she felt that strange twinge of purpose deep inside. She had made it down to the final six of seven steps when she heard the large metal door open at the bottom of the landing. Oh shit, she thought, time to put the heels back on and act semi-professionally. The last thing she wanted tonight was for someone to mistake her for a drunken prostitute or something of the sort as she fumbled down the dark staircase. However, it was too late. She had managed to get one foot back into the uncooporative black shoe before falling down a step or two and clutching onto the railing, watching the other skid down onto the now occupied landing below. She was never very graceful even when she was sober.

and i think i just fell in love with her but she won't ever remember..

He pushed on the cold metal door, hoping to gain access to whatever was inside. Well, he knew it was the stairwell. And he knew he needed somewhere to hide. Well, no, hide was perhaps a stronger word with some negative connotations associated with it under these circumstances. He just wanted to be alone at the moment, somewhere he could think in quiet. God knows there was a lot to think about... getting thrown out of Oxford wasn't exactly the easiest thing to face with a crowd watching. He felt embarrassed and numb, maybe a little cold. He was only wearing his signature button-down dress shirt with the black tie. How appropriate, he thought, to be dressed up to mourn the loss of his promising career.

As he peered inside he noticed a young woman on the abandoned stairwell, holding on to the railing with one shoe on and one shoe off. Even in this apparently unfortunate state he couldn't help but think there was something different about her, something... special. Perhaps there was.

"Oi, can I help you?"

Her voice was raspy yet thin. He thought she might've had one too many by the looks of things. She cleared her throat and tried again before he had a chance to answer.

"I said... can I help you?"

He smiled. Just a small, shy smile. No need to show off.

"Umm, I'm not sure. But I think I can help you."

He walked over to the abandoned shoe that had tumbled down the stairs and skidded across the cracked concrete. Picking it up, he ascended a few steps towards her and sat down on the cold metal ledge.

"I believe you dropped something."

He held the shoe out in an awkward manner, something which may have irked her if she had been in a better state of mind. Instead, she nodded, smiled sheepishly, and went to take it out of his hands.

"No, really, allow me."

She raised an eyebrow, both arms still linked around the wrought iron railings. He placed it down on the step for her and she slipped her foot back in. Much easier than taking another unfortunate tumble, she figured.

"Now tell me," she said kind of softly, easing herself down onto the same step as him, pulling her skirt down in a lady-like manner while doing so, "what are you doing here this late at night?"

He frowned a little and looked up at her. Despite whatever had transpired this evening, she still looked extraordinary. He wondered if she even realized it.

"The same thing that I think you're doing."

She laughed out loud, leaning forward a little while doing so, causing him to reach out and restrain her for fear of taking another little tumble. He managed to force out a small laugh of his own.

"Oh really? You're getting trashed at Theo's party? Little Theo Fellowes' party, yeah? Well let me tell you... it was absolutely rubbish. Worst party I ever... I've ever been at. And I don't care if they were first years, right... it was just... I'm not..."

She trailed off, staring blankly into the darkness that surrounded them, save for a few little track lights that were placed along the walls. He shifted uncomfortably and tried to explain himself a little better.

"Well, no... not exactly. I'm... looking for myself. Or maybe just trying to sort things out, you know? Just... thinking."

She turned around to face him, her blue eyes cut like steel and boring into his. "Are you implying, Mr. Sneaking-around-in-dark-stairways, that I am looking for myself? Well, I've already found her. I'm right here. It's okay, you can leave now. I'll just call a cab and... yeah, I'll get home. It's all fine, we're okay." She attempted to get up but he managed to stop her, even though he wasn't exactly sure why. Did he want the company even though he had originally wanted to be alone? What was it about her that seemed different? He really wished he could place his finger on it.

"Of course you're fine, you're... more than fine. It's just that... well, you're... okay, first of all, my name is Daniel." He pointed to himself whilst saying this as if to reinforce the statement. She nodded slowly, refusing to lower her eyes. Those eyes, he thought, probably thought he was crazy. But then again those eyes wouldn't remember a thing come tomorrow. There was no way they possibly could.

"I just lost my job. And I don't mean I was laid off or replaced or whatever. I was fired. Expelled, you could say. Forever. Well, that's what expelled means I think. Anyway, the point is, that was my career. That was my goal, my... well, my dream. Sort of. At least I think, you know? Now it's gone. I fucked it up, pardon my language. That is why I'm here in this stairway, with you I may add, instead of at home eating some thawed out food in front of a television set like I do every other night. That's... sort of what's going on right now, not that you needed or wanted to know."

She nodded slowly, bringing her hands to rest on the knobbly bare knees that poked out from under the hem of her skirt. It's not like she really cared about what this man was talking about, or that she really understood him entirely either. Oxford? She did understand that though.

"Were you a professor? You look awfully young... Daniel."

He nodded, exhaling quietly. "Yeah, physics."

She leaned in closer, throwing him a little off guard. She smelled like some kind of girly drink he didn't know the name of because he didn't drink and he also didn't really care about these trivial things much either.

"Wanna know a secret? I fancied a physicist once. Sort of. I like... science. Kind of. No, yeah, I like it. I guess you do too?"

She started laughing a little, her fire engine red hair falling down around her shoulders. What was he doing? He'd really love to know. None of this evening made any sense to him at all, but yet it felt right. It felt... necessary.

"Oh. Yeah. I do."

He didn't really know how to respond to that. How could he? He was pouring out his life story to a drunken girl in a stairway, but yet he didn't know how to respond to an apparent compliment. Or maybe it wasn't even a compliment considering she wasn't really in a right state of mind.

"I go to Oxford," she blurted out loudly, a thick accent rolling off her tongue. Strange how he hadn't noticed it before...

"Oh do you? You look a little old to be a student..."

"Do I? Well you look a little young to be a proffessor. And bugger off, I'm 26. A perfectly acceptable age to be... educating myself."

He laughed and nodded, although he was still a little confused. "Twenty-six years old and attending a freshman party? I'm betting you have some issues, too."

She shrugged and adjusted the straps on her blue top, fidgeting with the decorative bows.

"I'm confused, that's all. I mean... well, no I'm not literally confused... at least not when I'm sober, yeah? I'm into anthropology. And I really... I really, really love it. It's just... sometimes I wonder if I'm doing it for the right reasons. It's... it's really stupid. A long, pointless and boring story."

He looked around at their surroundings. "Well if you haven't noticed, we're both sitting in an empty stairwell at one in the morning. I think I've got time if you want to tell it."

She smiled. Not just one of those smiles you flash to pacify others, but a genuine smile. He knew there was something special about her but he just couldn't put his finger on it, not yet...

quit crying your eyes out, quit crying your eyes out and baby come on

isn't there something familiar about me?

the past is only the future with the lights on.

She felt it before she even noticed what was happening. She had started to cry. She really wished she knew why, but it was kind of hard to pinpoint. Was it because she had finally come to the realization that her career path might not be the one she truly wanted? Or maybe it was because her situation at the very moment was so utterly terrible. Either way, it couldn't have been anything good she was crying over. These were definitely not tears of joy... that much she knew.

"What... what is it? It's okay, you don't have to talk about it. It's just that..."

He was odd. Not in a bad way, but just... in a way. She kind of liked it... at least, she thought she did. She wouldn't remember. In fact, she wouldn't remember for years.

"No, no it's fine. Really. Just... would it make sense if I told you I was looking for the place I was born?"

He looked at her quizzically but with a smile on his face. "No, not really." She smiled back and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

"All my life," she said quietly, "I've been trying to get back there. This place... I... I know you're going to think it's the drinks talking but I swear, there's this place that no one's ever heard of before.. this... beautiful island. I'll find it some day, I'm sure of it. I just need to get good at... well, finding islands. And stuff. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He really wanted to think she was crazy. He really wanted to think she was just drunk. But somehow he couldn't. He believed her and he didn't know why. Everything felt weird, oddly coincidental yet obviously fateful. Or something like that, he didn't know how to put it in words exactly. But this chance encounter was nothing but ordinary, he knew that much. They sat in silence for the next few moments, save for the few times she bent down to fix her skirt although there was nothing wrong with it. It broke the apparent tension that flittered into the vacant stairwell.

"Are you sure I don't recognize you from somewhere?"

She leaned in closer as if to examine him, trying to wrack her addled brain. It was of no use.

"Maybe Oxford? Just a wild guess."

She giggled a little, rocking back on the stairs. "Oh, yeah. Mmm. That's probably it, right. Right."

She agreed. She nodded and smiled and did the whole bit but she seriously doubted that. Nothing was coincidental tonight, she thought to herself. Nothing at all.