So I'll Tell You Something, This Could Be Love

The soft hum of the hotel lobby greeted Sara as she shuffled in, hair all tangled from sleep and cheeks blushing slightly. Breakfast was already in progress at the long communal table, and she immediately spotted Charlotte, Abby, and to her mild horror, Kathryn.

Her stomach fluttered—partly nerves, partly anticipation. Last night’s conversation with Kathryn had left her head spinning in ways she wasn’t entirely prepared to process. Every glance, every soft smile, every near-touch replayed in vivid loops in her mind, and the thought of sitting near her now made her pulse skip.

“Morning, Sara!” Charlotte’s voice rang out. She was already in full morning energy mode, shifting slightly in her seat as if she was full to the brim with energy, which she probably was.

“Uh… morning,” Sara said softly, lowering herself into the chair next to her.

Kathryn, sitting next to Abby with a mug of coffee in hand, raised an eyebrow as she caught Sara’s uncharacteristic hesitant approach. “You look… awake enough to function,” she remarked dryly.

Sara shifted in her seat, fingers lightly clutching her cup. “I… uh… yeah. Good morning,” she said, trying to sound casual while internally reminding herself to breathe.

Charlotte, oblivious to the tension, leaned forward. “Guess who made blueberry pancakes! And they’re totally socially shareable if you promise not to hog them all.” She grinned, eyes sparkling. “I even put extra syrup on mine!”

Sara nearly choked on her own breath, cheeks warming as she feared what Charlotte with extra sugar would be like.

Abby’s attention, meanwhile, shifted deliberately toward Sara. “Are you… okay?” she asked softly. “You seem… different this morning.”

Sara fumbled with her fork, trying to keep her composure. “I… just… had a… weird night,” she admitted vaguely.

Kathryn, sipping her coffee, tilted her head and gave a small, knowing smirk. “Weird night? That’s one way to put it,” she said, voice low, almost teasing.

Charlotte clapped her hands together, breaking the tension with all the grace and decorum of a bulldozer. “Alright, feelings aside! Who wants more pancakes? Sara, Abby, Kathryn—don’t all say yes at once!”

Sara blinked, grateful for the distraction, but she couldn’t entirely shake the lingering tension from last night. Every small movement of Kathryn’s—the tilt of her head, the glimmer in her eyes—sent pulses of heat she had no control over.

Abby began buttering her toast with benign indifference, but even she didn’t escape the electric tension in the room. "So, Sara, what are your date plans for tonight?" she tried, attempting to diffuse the tension in a more subtle way than Charlotte's guns-blazing approach.

Sara’s fingers froze mid-air, hovering over her fork. “Uh… I… I’m meeting Turner,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She avoided looking at Kathryn, though her chest felt impossibly tight.

"No shit you're meeting Turner," Abby rolled her eyes and spun her fork in tandem. "That's kinda the whole point of the show, y'know? We're all...fighting for his love and attention or whatnot."

Sara swallowed hard, cheeks warming again. “I—I just… want it to go well,” she said, twirling her fork nervously. “Just like last week...” Her voice drifted off as she remembered the escapade her and Turner had gone off on last week.

"Am I missing something here?" Abby asked with a piece of pancake on her fork and a dumbfounded look on her face. "Is today National Dance Around Abby's Questions Day? Can you all hear me? Hello?"

"Sara’s just… overthinking," Kathryn smirked a little wider. "Guess she's been taking after me recently.” She leaned back slightly, taking a slow sip of her coffee, though her eyes never left Sara.

Sara’s ears burned. “I—I’m not overthinking,” she said quickly, though her racing pulse betrayed her. “I just… want things to… feel right.”

Abby leaned in, her posture relaxed but her eyes quietly observant. “Sara,” she said softly as she put her hand over one of Sara's, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. You don’t have to… perform. He’ll notice you just being… you. Do you remember what he said during your date night on round two?"

"Well, he said a lot of things," Sara's mouth contorted into a flirtatious smirk. "Not a lot of it was PG."

"I...did not need to hear that," Charlotte stood up theatrically. "I mean, again, happy for you and Turner, yay! I just...need to check on the griddle again!"

Before anyone could respond, the dining room doors swung open with a subtle whoosh, and Anastasia entered, her usual detached demeanor in full effect. She wore comfortable clothing, but that seemed about where her sense of "relax" ended. Sara immediately stiffened, feeling the familiar heat of nervous anticipation flare through her as she remembered the heat that she and Kathryn had been subject to two days ago.

Charlotte, however, didn’t miss a beat. "Ana!” she exclaimed, her voice bouncing excitedly. “You’re here! Come try my pancakes! They’re practically made for champions!”

Anastasia’s lips twitched. "I'm good with my tea,” she answered flatly, her gaze sweeping over the table, though it lingered slightly on Sara and Kathryn before moving on.

Charlotte, undeterred, practically skipped over to Anastasia. “Oh, come on! You have to at least try one! It’s the syrup. You’ll never know life’s joys without syrup!”

Anastasia’s eyes softened almost imperceptibly. “Fine,” she said quietly, voice low, almost begrudging, “One.”

Charlotte clapped her hands like she’d just won a gold medal, practically bouncing in place. “Yes! That’s the spirit, Ana! One bite, and you’ll be a believer!” She plopped a golden pancake onto a plate, smothered in syrup, and thrust it toward Anastasia like it was a peace offering.

As the other three people watched the unstoppable **** meeting the immovable object, Sara took the opportunity to jab Kathryn in the side. "She reminds me of you before we all really got to know you," she whispered to the analyst. "Although, you were at least a little more talkative than her."

Kathryn’s lips twitched into a half-smile at Sara’s whisper. “I’ll take that as a compliment… I think,” she murmured, voice low enough that only Sara could hear.

"Soooo...how is it?" Charlotte leaned forward expectantly towards the gymnast.

"It's pretty good," Anastasia relented, sitting down next to Abby in resignation of being trapped in conversation for the next indeterminate amount of time.

“See?” Charlotte chirped, unbothered by subtle tension. “Even Ana is falling for the syrup magic!” She glanced at Kathryn and Sara, grinning. “You two look like you’ve got your own private stuff going on over there, what's up with you two?”

Sara’s ears turned pink, and she quickly looked down at her fork. “We’re not… it’s not—”

Her protest died in her throat when Kathryn’s hand casually brushed against hers while reaching for her coffee, a faint jolt of warmth spreading through her. “Nope,” Kathryn said softly. “Definitely not private. Just… strategy discussion.”

"Is anyone else...?" Abby trailed off, looking at everyone else and how they reacted to Sara and Kathryn. "Nobody? Fine, I'm gonna go see what Becca's up to."

Anastasia shifted slightly in her chair, crossing one leg over the other in her usual precise manner, but the tension in her shoulders was noticeably less severe than normal. Her eyes flicked toward Sara and Kathryn again, a hint of curiosity softening the usual clinical detachment. “You two… are… close?” she asked finally, her tone careful, almost testing the waters, as if afraid to misstep.

Sara’s cheeks blushed, but she cast that aside with a subtle chuckle. “I… I mean I guess. We're roommates, and after looking at all the other roommate pairs here...not exactly the harshest competition."

Kathryn’s lips quirked up in that faint smile again. “I suppose you could say that. We’ve had a few… heart-to-hearts.” Her eyes flicked briefly to Sara, and Anastasia caught the soft undercurrent that Sara’s own pulse betrayed—something more than just camaraderie.

Anastasia tilted her head, scrutinizing both of them. “Sounds… complicated.”

Sara flushed, twisting the edge of her napkin in her hands. “It’s not that complicated,” she stammered. “Just… talking. It matters.”

Anastasia’s lips curved, subtle but genuine this time. “Hmm. You two do seem different together. Less guarded.” She crossed her arms loosely, leaning back, studying them.

Kathryn’s gaze softened toward Anastasia, the usual analytical edge replaced by something warmer. “That’s because we can be,” she said, almost quietly. “It’s… comfortable. Safe. We trust each other.”

"Aww, you finally admit it!" Sara suddenly exclaimed with an arm pump.

"Admit what?" Kathryn asked, oblivious to what she had just inadvertently said.

"That you trust me!" Sara excitedly answered as she hugged Kathryn's arm. "Do you know how long I've been trying to get her to finally say that? I tell you, these CIA people—"

"Again, National Counterterrorism Center," Kathryn corrected.

"Whatever, these analyst people," Sara amended. "Are such tough nuts to crack."

"He should be here by now..." Sara's thoughts trailed off once again as she tapped her foot against the ground.

She had chosen a more casual outfit than her previous red dress, today donning some shorter heels, jeans, and a breathable, deep-necked, green shirt. She'd also kept her hair down today, letting it fall naturally over her shoulders and down her back.

"I told Kendra to tell him where to meet me," she continued, wondering what was taking the seemingly-omnipotent host so long. It had only taken Sara five minutes to walk from the hotel lobby to this place, why was it taking Turner so much longer?

She peered into the karaoke lounge where she had chosen their date to be held at. Like many other façades she had seen on the show, there were a bunch of other people in there, all laughing, relaxing, and singing. All people that seemed to have been planted by Kendra, or the executives, or whomever was in charge of the realism department of Harem Hotel.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality only about ten minutes, she saw Turner round the corner. Tempering her excitement to run up to him and jump into his arms like an excited schoolgirl, she settled for simply walking up to him and meeting him halfway.

"Hey you," she simply said. "Ready to go?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," he replied. "What extravaganza do you have cooked up this week?"

"Well...I don't know if it's gonna top last week," Sara began, before blushing as she recounted exactly what had happened last week. "But, we're going to a karaoke bar! Doesn't that sound fun?"

"Just what I'd expect from someone looking to keep me on my toes," Turner responded. "I'm game though."

Sara giddily took his hand in hers as she led him to the front of the building where she had been standing moments prior. After the frenzy that she had whipped up with Turner last week, she was taking some of Kathryn and Abby's advice to heart and trying to make this a more relaxed date.

After the two stepped inside, the full ambience of the lounge hit her. The dimly-lit environment, disparate neon signs scattered about, manufactured couples singing together, it was all far more intimate than Sara had initially expected. Not that it was a bad thing for her; far from it, actually.

"I've never been anywhere like this before," Sara noted as she took in the setting around the two of them.

"Me neither," Turner admitted. "Closest is probably a jazz club I went to my senior year when I took a trip to New Orleans, but it wasn't as...intense as this."

"Mmhmm," Sara nodded as she took in his statement, clutching onto his arm a little tighter. She could feel her face getting a little flushed, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle.

"Well, would you care to sit down for a bit?" Turner offered as they found an empty couch near the stage.

"Oh!" Sara suddenly said, as if she was snapping out of something. "Yes! Yeah, of course! We can sit down for a minute!"

Sara slid onto the couch first, smoothing her jeans reflexively as Turner settled beside her. The vinyl was cool against the backs of her legs, a sharp contrast to the warmth already blooming in her chest. She crossed one leg over the other, then uncrossed it a second later, suddenly too aware of where her knee had brushed his thigh.

“So,” Turner said, glancing toward the stage. “Are you… excited? Or should I be afraid?”

Sara laughed softly. “A little of both,” she admitted. “I’ve, um… been thinking about this all day.”

“About karaoke?” he teased.

“Well… about tonight,” she corrected, turning toward him. “About you being here. With me.”

Turner shifted slightly, swallowing. “Yeah,” he said after a beat. “Me too.”

For a moment, they just sat there, watching the stage lights pulse and fade. The lounge buzzed with laughter and off-key singing, but Sara felt oddly separate from it all, like the world had narrowed to the space between their shoulders.

“I, um,” Turner began, rubbing the nape of his neck, “I should warn you. I’m not great at this. Singing. Or… performing.”

Sara turned fully toward him without thinking, her knee now pressed lightly against his leg. “Hey,” she said softly. “You don’t have to be great. You don’t have to be anything except… you.”

Turner inhaled sharply, stiffening slightly. His eyes flicked away, then back, a bit flustered. “Right. Yeah. Totally. Just… wow. You’re really good at saying things like that.”

Sara blinked, suddenly aware of how close she’d leaned in and what she had just said. “Oh,sorry! I didn’t mean to...I mean, I just wanted you to feel okay.”

“No, it’s...it’s fine,” he said quickly, though the color rising in his cheeks betrayed him. “Just… caught me off guard a bit, is all.”

She pulled back slightly, folding her hands in her lap to calm herself, but that had the unintended consequence of allowing her to feel how hot she was getting. “Do you want to…maybe order a drink first? Wait, you're 21 right...of course you are, I knew that. Or we could sign up for one? Or...” She laughed nervously. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

Turner smiled. “No, it’s okay. I kind of like it. Makes me feel like I’m doing something right.” He nodded toward the sign-up tablet near the stage. "Do you wanna do a duet first? That way it's not like putting either of us on the spot? It could ease us into things."

Sara’s heart did a small flip at the word duet.

“A… duet?” she repeated somewhat breathlessly, eyes flicking from Turner to the tablet and back again. The idea of standing that close to him, sharing a microphone, breathing the same air...two voices, one song. A shared moment. It sounded like the kind of thing she would bookmark in a novel to pick her up whenever she was having a rough day.

“I think…” she said slowly, smiling as she nodded, “I think that sounds perfect.”

Turner’s smile widened, relieved. “Yeah? Okay. Cool. Let’s… uh… let’s do it before I psych myself out.”

They stood together at the tablet, shoulders nearly touching as they scrolled through the song list. Sara was suddenly acutely aware of him again: his arm brushing hers, the warmth radiating from his body, the way he leaned in just slightly when he laughed under his breath at some of the song titles. Her body responded before her brain could intervene.

"Oh no", she thought faintly, swallowing. "Already?"

“You okay?” Turner asked, glancing over when he noticed her tense up.

“Mm-hm,” she said automatically. “Just… deciding.”

Turner tapped the screen to confirm. “You sing a lot?”

“Not… in front of people,” she admitted. “Mostly just… to myself.”

“Lucky me,” he said lightly. "Although I'm the same way."

The screen flashed their names, and suddenly the countdown began.

As they returned to the couch to wait their turn, Sara felt the anticipation coil tighter and tighter inside her. Every laugh from the crowd, every off-key note from the stage only heightened the sense that something was building, that she was stepping into a moment she’d imagined a hundred times but never actually lived.

Turner leaned back, exhaling slowly. “Okay. I’m officially nervous now.”

Without thinking, Sara turned toward him, placing her hand lightly over his forearm. “Hey,” she said gently. “You don’t have to impress anyone. You already...”

She stopped herself mid-sentence, eyes widening. Too late.

Turner inhaled sharply, shoulders tensing beneath her hand. His jaw clenched, then relaxed, like he was bracing against something unexpected. His gaze flicked down to where she was touching him, then back up to her face.

Sara pulled her hand back as if she’d been burned. “I...I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to...I just wanted you to feel...I mean...”

“No, no,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s fine. Really. Just…wow.” He laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re…very convincing.”

Her cheeks were on fire now. She folded her hands in her lap again, but again, all that did was make her more aware of the restless warmth pooling low in her stomach. Being this close to him was already enough to send her down a spiral.

Their names flashed again. Now performing.

Turner stood first, offering his hand. “Ready?”

Sara looked up at him, heart pounding, and nodded. “Ready.”

The stage lights were brighter than she expected, warm and low and flattering in a way that made everything feel unreal. Turner took the mic first, clearing his throat, his voice a little rough but sincere as the music started.

The opening chords washed over the room, familiar and cinematic, and Sara’s breath caught as the first notes of I’ve Had the Time of My Life filled the lounge.

Turner glanced at the screen, then at her. “Guess… I start.”

“Yeah,” Sara whispered, smiling encouragingly. “You’ve got...er...go ahead!”

He brought the mic up, shoulders a little stiff, but when he sang the first line his voice surprised both of them, a bit rough around the edges and not nearly as in-key as he'd hoped, but honest.

"Now I’ve had the time of my life, no I never felt like this before…"

She watched him sing. The way his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, slowly softening as he began to get more confident and loose himself in the moment.

"Yes I swear it's the truth, and I owe it all to you…"

By the time Sara's cue approached, her heart was already racing. All she could hear was Turner’s voice, honest in a way that made her chest ache. The lyrics hit her harder than she’d expected, not just because of the song itself, but because he was singing them to her, even if he didn’t fully realize it. She turned slightly toward him for the next line, eyes lifting to meet his.

“'Cause I’ve had the time of my life, and I owe it all to you…”

By the time the final notes rang out, Sara's pulse was racing, her body buzzing like she'd just stepped off a rollercoaster she hadn't realized she was strapped into. Turner was smiling deeply, both out of relief that the public eye was no longer on him and the excitement that followed the performance they had just had. He lowered the mic first, exhaling.

"Wow. Okay, I did not expect that," he breathily said.

Sara laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear. "Good 'that' or bad 'that'?"

"Good," Turner said quickly. "Just intense."

They walked off of the stage together, holding hands without a care in the world. When they reached the couch, Turner sat down a bit stiff, like he was trying very hard not to think about something.

"Hey," Sara said gently. You don't need to be nervous. I mean it. You were...really good up there."

Turner's expression tightened a bit. He let out a sigh and laughed slightly, his cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. "See, when you say something like that...it's a bit hard to not internalize things..."

Before Sara could respond, they were interrupted by one of the many other patrons at the karaoke lounge. "What are you two doing here?" a voice asked them.

In tandem, Sara and Turner looked up at the source of the question. Nobody had really interacted with them that wasn't a part of the show, so this piqued Turner's interest. Once he saw who it was, his eyes widened with shock.

"Phoebe?" he simply asked incredulously.